Inconsistencies in Greek and Roman Religion I: Ter Unus : Isis Dionysus, Hermes Three Studies in Henotheism 9004092668, 9004092676, 9004092684, 9789004092662
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Table of contents :
TRANSITION AND REVERSAL IN MYTH AND RITUAL
CONTENTS
PREFACE
ABBREVIATIONS
INTRODUCTION
Chapter I WHAT IS SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR THE GANDER: MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
1.
QUESTIONS
2.
THE RISE AND GROWTH OF MYTH AND RITUAL THEORY
1. Jane Ellen Harrison
2.
Myth arises from rite: the Cambridge school
3.
Myth as a scenario for dramatic ritual: the 'Myth and Ritual School' proper
3.
THE FUSES BLOW: OUT AND OUT MYTH AND RITUAL THEORISTS
4.
CRITICISM
5.
INITIATION, A MODERN COMPLEX
1.
From Harrison to Burkert
2.
Marginality: profits and pitfalls of a concept
6. EPPURE SI MUOVE ...: MYTH AND RITUAL PARI PASSU
7.
PROSPECTS
Chapter II KRONOS AND THE KRONIA
1.
MYTH
2.
RITUAL
3.
CONTRADICTIONS
4. THE FESTIVAL OF REVERSAL
5.
THE AMBIGUITY OF THE KRONIA AND RELATED FESTIVALS
1.
The paradox of the impossible harmony
2.
The paradox of the festive conflict
6. THE KING OF A PRIMEVAL REVERSED WORLD
7. CONCLUSIONS
Chapter III SATURNUS AND THE SATURNALIA
1. THE EVIDENCE
1.
Saturn
2.
Saturnalia
2. SATURNIAN MYTH AND RITUAL: THE CARNIVALESQUE SIGNS OF THE REVERSED ORDER
1.
The eccentric god
2.
The cult
3.
Licence
3. LOOKING BACK: ORIGINS
1.
The implications of the calendrical position
2.
The implications of the topographical position
3.
The contributions of myth
4.
An interim balance sheet
5.
A new interpretation of Lua
6.
The origin of the Saturnalian imagery: the relationship of myth and ritual
4. LOOKING FORWARD: THE CONTINUING STORY OF MYTH AND
RITUAL
1.
The ambivalence of the Satumalian king: Mythical topicalities
a.
Redeunt Saturnia Regna
b.
Non semper Saturnalia erunt
2.
The king must die. Ritual re-enactments
Chapter IV THE ROMAN FESTIVAL FOR BONA DEA AND THE GREEK THESMOPHORIA
1. THE FESTIVAL OF BONA DEA
1.
Traditional interpretations
2. THE THESMOPHORIA
1.
The evidence and the traditional interpretation
2.
New directions in interpreting the Thesmophoria
3.
Numphai sleeping on lugos: the paradox of the Thesmophoria
4.
The contribution of myth
3. BACK TO BONA DEA
1.
Wine in, myrtle out
2.
The presence of wine
3.
Ambiguous virgins
4.
The contribution of myth
4. TWO FESTIVALS, ONE PARADOX
5. GUNE-PARTHENOS: ON THE FATAL AMBIGUITY OF THE FEMALE RACE
6. CONCLUSION
Chapter V APOLLO AND MARS ONE HUNDRED YEARS AFTER ROSCHER
1. COMPARING TWO GODS: ROSCHER AND AFTER
2. COMPARING TWO GODS: A STRUCTURALIST VIEW
3. THE SOCIAL ROOTS OF A STRUCTURAL ANALOGY
1.
Apollo
2.
Mars
4. KINDRED FUNCTIONS, DIFFERENT IMAGES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEXES
STUDIES IN
GREEK AND ROMAN RELIGION
Citation preview
INCONSISTENCIES IN GREEK AND ROMAN RELIGION II
STUDIES IN GREEK AND ROMAN RELIGION EDITED BY H.S. VERSNEL IN CO-OPERATION WITH F.T. VANSTRATEN
VOLUME 6, II
INCONSISTENCIES IN GREEK AND ROMAN RELIGION II
TRANSITION AND REVERSAL IN MYTH AND RITUAL BY
H.S. VERSNEL
E.J. BRILL LEIDEN • NEW YORK • KOLN 1993
The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data (Revised for vol. 2) Versnel, H. S. Inconsistencies in Greek and Roman religion. (Studies in Greek and Roman religion, 0169-9512; 6) Includes bibliographical references and index. Contents: 1. Ter Unus. Isis, Dionysos, Hermes - 2. Transition and reversal in myth and ritual. I. Title. BL722.V47 1990 292 90-2301 ISBN 90-04-09266-8 (pbk.: v. 1) ISBN 90-04-09267-6 (cloth: v. 2) ISBN 90-04-09268-4 (set)
V.
ISSN ISBN ISBN ISBN
0169-9512 90 04 09267 6 (vol. 6, II) 90 04 09266 8 (vol. 6, I) 90 04 09268 4 (set)
© Copyright 1993 by E.]. Brill, Leiden, The Ndherlands All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by E. ]. Brill provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to Copyright Clearance Center, 2 7 Congress Street, SALEM MA 01970, USA. Fees are subject to change. PRINTED IN THE NETHERLANDS
FOR HADEWYCH the second
Toch hou ik er niet van, Marij"ke. Zeljs als 't iets zij"n zou waar het echte niettemin als je het schrijft met een volmaakte tegenzin stralend uit oplicht-wie wordt er gelukkig van? Anton Korteweg, Stand van zaken, Amsterdam 1991 (met een kleine aanpassing)
CONTENTS
PREFACE
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INTRODUCTION Chapter I WHAT IS SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR THE GANDER: MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW 10
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THE FUSES BLOW: OUT AND OUT MYTH AND RITUAL THEORISTS
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THE RISE AND GROWTH OF MYTH AND RITUAL THEORY
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Chapter II KRONOS AND THE KRONIA 1. MYTH 20
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VIII
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4.
THE FESTIVAL OF REVERSAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
115
5.
THE AMBIGUITY OF THE KRONIA AND RELATED FESTIVALS ...
122
1. The paradox of the impossible harmony . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122 2. The paradox of the festive conflict . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
6.
THE KING OF A PRIMEVAL REVERSED WORLD . . . . . . . . . . . .
129
7.
CoNCLUSIONS
132
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter III SATURNUS AND THE SATURNALIA
1.
THE EVIDENCE
....................................
136
1. Saturn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 2. Saturnalia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146
2.
SATURNIAN MYTH AND RITUAL: THE CARNIVALESQUE SIGNS OF THE REVERSED ORDER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
150
1 . The eccentric god . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 2. The cult . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153 3. Licence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157 3.
LOOKING BACK: ORIGINS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1. The implications of the calendrical position . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2. The implications of the topographical position . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 . The contributions of myth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4. An interim balance sheet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5. A new interpretation of Lua . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6. The origin of the Saturnalian imagery: the relationship of myth and ritual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4.
164 165
171 176 180 181 184
LOOKING FORWARD: THE CONTINUING STORY OF MYTH AND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
190
1. The ambivalence ofthe Satumalian king: Mythical topicalities . . . a. Redeunt Saturnia Regna . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . b. Non semper Saturnalia erunt ....................... 2. The king must die. Ritual re-enactments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
191 192 205 210
RITUAL
CONTENTS
IX
Chapter IV THE ROMAN FESTIVAL FOR BONA DEA AND THE GREEK THESMOPHORIA 1.
THE FESTIVAL oF BoNA DEA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
229
1. Traditional interpretations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 230 2.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
235
The evidence and the traditional interpretation . . . . . . . . . . . . New directions in interpreting the Thesmophoria .......... Numphai sleeping on lugos: the paradox of the Thesmophoria . . . The contribution of myth ............................
235 240 245 250
BACK To BoNA DEA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
261
1. Wine in, myrtle out . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2. The presence of wine ............................... 3. Ambiguous virgins ................................ 4. The contribution of myth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
261 264 269
272
4.
Two FESTIVALS, ONE PARADOX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
274
5.
GUNE-PARTHENOS: ON THE FATAL AMBIGUITY OF THE FEMALE
THE THESMOPHORIA
1. 2. 3. 4. 3.
RACE
6.
...........................................
CONCLUSION
......................................
276 284
Chapter V APOLLO AND MARS ONE HUNDRED YEARS AFTER ROSCHER 1.
CoMPARING Two GODs: RoscHER AND AFTER
290
2.
COMPARING TWO GODS: A STRUCTURALIST VIEW
296
3.
THE SOCIAL ROOTS OF A STRUCTURAL ANALOGY
313
1. Apollo ......................................... 313 2. Mars .......................................... 319 5.
KINDRED FUNCTIONS, DIFFERENT IMAGES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
328
BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335 INDEXES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345
PREFACE
Some chapters (or sections of chapters) of this book originated as short( er) essays-two of them in Dutch-and have been completely rewritten and elaborated. Others are original contributions. Accordingly, various people have read and criticized sections of the book in different phases between the status nascendi and the coming of age. Gerhard Binder, Josine Blok, Jan Bremmer, Fritz Graf and Renate Schlesier have offered helpful advice and valuable criticism on various sections, which will be accounted for in more detail in the introduction. I had the special privilege of trying out a number of issues during a visiting lectureship at the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes (Section des Sciences Religieuses) in Paris. I drew lots of inspiration from the enthusiasm, the tokens of interest, and the always refreshing 'other' way of posing questions by colleagues of both this school and that of the Sciences Sociales. I trust nobody will be offended when I single out Stella Georgoudi, the mater castrorum, for a special tribute to her Greek hospitality and helpfulness. I am grateful to all these colleagues and friends for having helped to improve the book. This is no less, though in a different way, true of the students of my Leiden seminar on 'Ambiguities' in the academic year 1989-1990. Gradually I have come to realize that the topics broached during that seminar must have been a most alarming experience to students who are normally treated to the Second English war, the history of the slave trade, or the causes of the French revolution. Have I really succeeded in convincing Jan ter Horst that there must be an explanation for why a mythical father castigates his mythical daughter with a mythical rod of myrtle beyond the fact that myrtle was the most popular material for making besoms due to its abundance in Roman parks and gardens? However, when Jent Bijlsma, speaking on the goats of Polyphemos, could be heard explaining to the lesser-gifted: ''these are not natural goats, these are pre-cultural goats", I knew our common efforts had not been in vain. Add Lily Knibbeler's attempts to make me understand what I actually meant, and it must be clear that I have greatly benefitted from this experiment. I dedicate the footnotes of the
XII
PREFACE
present book to this happy class (the only part of the book, by the way, that does not provide full translations of all the quotations in foreign languages). Once more, a stay at Vandoeuvres and one in the Dutch Historical Institute in Rome offered the necessary rest and ideal academic circumstances to proceed. Once more, too, it was Peter Mason who conscientiously corrected most of the English text, though some sections, to be detailed in the introduction, had been translated by others in earlier stages. I am grateful to all of them for their efforts to improve the text, and apologize that the profusion of my later insertions, especially in the footnotes, has eventually distorted the picture.
ABBREVIATIONS Books and articles for which I use the name-date system are given in the bibliography. Other books (mainly works of reference) which I cite simply by (name and) abbreviated title are given here. For the abbreviations of periodical titles I have followed the conventions of L 'Annie philologique. For the abbreviations of collections of papyri see: J. F. Oates, R. S. Bagnall and W. H. Willis, Checklist of Editions of Greek Papyri and Ostraca (BASP Suppl. 1, 1978 2). Corpora of inscriptions are referred to as (e.g.) l.Priene; these works are either listedinJ.J. E. Hondius,SaxaLoquuntur(Leiden 1939)and, currently, in SEC or form part of the series Inschriften griechischer Stadte aus Kleinasien (1972- ). For a full list of the epigraphical corpora covering Asia Minor see: St. Mitchell, CR 37 [1987] 81- 2). The exceptions are listed below.
Abh. Adonis AE AFA AL ANET ANRW ARW BE
CGF GIL CLE
Abhandlungen Adonis. Relazioni del colloquia zn Roma 1981 (Rome 1984) L 'annie ipigraphique ( 1888- ) G. Henzen, Acta Fratrum Arvalium (Berlin 1874) Anthologia Latina J. B. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Princeton 1955 2 , 3d ed. with supp. 1969) Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt (ed. H. Temporini & W. Haase, Berlin 1972-) Archiv for Religionswissenschaft Bulletin ipigraphique (by J. & L. Robert, annually in REG until 1984, continued by a team of epigraphists, 1987- , cited by year and paragraph number) G. Kaibel, Comicorum Graecorum Fragmenta (Berlin 1899) Corpus lnscriptionum Latinarum (1863- ) Carmina Latina epigraphica (ed. F. Biicheler 1926)
XIV
Diet. Ant. FGrHist FHG GB GGR GR HrwG IBM IG IPhilae IGR ILS Kaibel
KBO LEW LIMC LSAM LSCG LSJ LSS OCT OF
ABBREVIATIONS
C. Daremberg & E. Saglio, Dictionnaire des antiquites grecques et romaines (Paris 1877 -1918) F. Jacoby, Die Fragmente der griechischen Histon·ker (Berlin- Leiden 1923-58) Fragmenta historicorum Graecorum (ed. C. & T. Muller, 1868- 78) ]. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough I-XIII (London 1911-36 3) M. P. Nilsson, Geschichte der griechischen Religion I-II (Munich 1967 3-19612) W. Burkert, Greek Religion. Archaic and Classical (Oxford 1985) Handbuch religionswissenschaftlicher Grundbegrif.fe (ed. H. Cancik,B. Gladigow&M. Laubscher, 1988 - ) Inscriptions of the British Museum Inscrzptiones Graecae I-XIV (1873- ) A. & E. Bernand, Les inscriptions grecques [et latinesj de Philae (Paris 1969) Inscriptiones Graecae ad Res Romanas Pertinentes I-IV (ed. R. Gagnat et alii, Paris 1911-27) Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae I-III (ed. H. Dessau, Berlin 1892- 1916). G. Kaibel, Epigrammata Graeca ex lapidibus collecta (Berlin 1878) Keilschrijttexte aus Boghazkoi ( 1916- ) A. Walde &J. B. Hofmann, Lateinisches Etymologisches Worterbuch (Heidelberg 1938-543 ) Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae (Zurich 1981-) F. Sokolowski, Lois sacrees de l'Asie Mineure (Paris 1955) F. Sokolowski, Lois sacrees des cites grecques (Paris 1969) H. G. Liddell, R. Scott, H. S.Jones,A GreekEnglish Lexicon (Oxford 19402) F. Sokolowski, Lois sacrees des cites grecques. Supplement (Paris 1962) Oxford Classical Texts 0. Kern, Orphicorum Fragmenta (Berlin 1922)
ABBREVIATIONS
OCIS OLD OMS PCC PC PCM
PMC PSI RAG
RE
RML
Sb SEC Syll. 3 Thes.L.L.
XV
Orient is Craecae I nscriptiones Selectae I-II (ed. W. Dittenberger, Leipzig 1903-5) Oxford Latin Dictionary L. Robert, Opera Minora Selecta I-IV (Amsterdam 1969), V (1989) Poetae comici graeci ( ed. R. Kassel & C. Austin 1983- ) Patrologiae cursus completus. Series Craeca (ed. J.P. Migne) Papyri Craecae Magicae. Die griechischen Zauberpapyri I-II (edd. K. Preisendanz et alii, Stuttgart 1973-42) Poetae melici graeci (ed. D. L. Page, Oxford 1926) Papyri Societa Italiana (1912-) Reallexikon fur Antike und Christentum (ed. Th. Klauser et alii, Stuttgart 1950- ) Paulys Real-Encyclopiidie der classischen Altertumswissenschaften (ed. G. Wisowa, E. Kroll et alii, Stuttgart-Munich 1893-) Ausjuhrliches Lexicon der griechischen und rom ischen Mythologie (ed. W. H. Roscher et alii, Leipzig 1884-1937) Sitzungsberichte Supplementum Epigraphicum Craecum (ed. J. J. E. Hondius et alii 1923-71, continued by H. W. Pleket et alii, Amsterdam 1976-) Sylloge Inscriptionum Craecarum I-IV (ed. W. Dittenberger et alii, Leipzig 1915-243 ). Thesaurus Linguae Latinae (Leipzig 1900- )
INTRODUCTION When we asked Pooh what the opposite of an Introduction was, he said: "The what of what?", which didn't help us as much as we had hoped, but luckily Owl kept his head and told us that the Opposite of an Introduction, my dear Pooh, was a Contradiction, and, as he is very good at long words, I am sure that that's what it is. A. A. Milne The House at Pooh Corner
Culture is a categorical construct. As a corollary, it cannot but provoke numerous and disquieting contradictions, anomalies, ambiguities and paradoxes-in short, all those inconsistencies which threaten to make the world a jelly. This is the keynote of Inconsistencies in Greek and Roman Religion as expounded in the introduction to the first volume. In that introduction I also sketched-heavily leaning on Mary Douglas' theories of cultural ambiguities and Leon Festinger's analyses of cognitive dissonance-the universal feelings of discomfort induced by disturbances of the cultural universe among such divergent categories as adolescents, adults-both Western and non-Western-scholars, theologians, politicians, and idiotai, with a special focus on historians' aversion to the paradoxical. Numerous and varied are the prevailing strategies to escape from unbearable clashes or to cope with irritating ones. One, for instance, is to reduce or deny the ambiguity by a deliberate choice for one of two contradictory options. The inherent rejection of the other option can take the form of abominating, tabooing, destroying, forbidding, but also of various types of denial. Denying the existence-or at least the relevance-of one of two conflicting options is a prevailing course of action. More interesting, however, and less researched is the strategy of keeping the inconsistency from the retina altogether, for instance, by a virtuoso winking process, which enables the subject to save two conflicting realities or convictions by keeping them radically apart 1 . 1 After the first volume had appeared, Marliesjansen drew my attention toR. Foley, Is it possible to Have Contradictory Beliefs?, Midwest Studies in Philosophy 10
2
INTRODUCTION
The pervasive influence of this strategy in history, especially in the history of religions, and the fierce resistance of modern historians to perceiving, accepting or appreciating it 2 was the theme of the first chapter of the first volume: the curious Hellenistic paradox of simultaneously embracing both absolute freedom and total submission in relation to kings and gods. For all that, sooner or later such inconsistencies will attract attention, if not generally, then at least in more critical circles. Even then, the two conflicting elements are sometimes saved, for instance, through the development of new hermeneutic systems. The inconsistency appears to be no inconsistency after all: the submission to a fatherly and righteous ruler is the highest form of democratic freedom, as second-century political philosophers contend; or the service of the Lord is the most sublime form ofliberation, as the apostle Paul taught. Finally, however, it also happens that people maintain two conflicting elements, while simultaneously acknowledging their incompatibility and the impossibility of denying or eliminating either of them. The aporia lies in the nature (or culture) of things. Instances of such paradoxes are the clash between the demands made by intransigent gods and those made by an equally intransigent social or political system; or the blatant paradoxes that emerge when mortals acquire divine traits. Two literary genres in particular have the natural mission of questioning, problematising and challenging society by tearing away the covers that hide such inconsistencies, and thus disclosing tensions and dissonances in religious, cultural and social life. These are tragedy and comedy, whose task is to explore, analyse and finally to communicate these fundamental tensions to their contemporaries. They are neither able nor expected to offer
(1986) 327-55, whose argument in favour of the answer "no" primarily shows that the gap between logical and psychological approaches is even wider then I supposed. 2 To the few exceptions in the study of ancient culture and history lauded in Inconsistencies I, 22 ff. I should add: N. H. Bluestone, Women and the Ideal Society: Plato's Republic and Modern Myths of Gender (Oxford 1987), who provides a revealing discussion of the many desperate attempts to get rid of the inconsistencies in Plato's theories on the position of women in his ideal state. For D. Cohen, whose gratifyingly related approach I recorded (23 n. 74), see now his Law, Society, and Sexuality: The Eriforcement of Morals in Classical Athens (Cambridge 1991) esp. ch. 1-3, 6, 7, 9. A particularly relevant study by Mary Beard will be amply discussed and exploited in ch. IV of the present volume.
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3
solutions. The second chapter of the first volume treats Euripides' tragedy the Bacchae, staging the insoluble paradox between the totalitarian demands of a tyrannical god and the no less totalitarian claims of society. The third chapter illuminates the impossible consequences, indeed the absurdity, of divine praise when applied to a human being, as seen through the eyes of the satirist Martial. What the first volume did not discuss becomes the central issue of the second: Mary Douglas' fifth and last provision for dealing with ambiguous events, which is, in a way, the collective variant of the individual initiatives by tragedians and comedians just mentioned. Collective myths and rituals are often created and performed in order to expose in word or action anomalies and paradoxes of nature or society, thus reducing the threat of their inherent tensions. Both myth and ritual may even go further and devise a non-realistic, paradoxical and internally contradictory imagery in order to show what happens if one ventures outside the borders of orderly society. These strategies prevail especially in two types of festivals: festivals of licence, such as the Saturnalia and carnival; and rituals of initiation. Both carry the notion of 'transition'; both are marked by signs of reversal. The present volume discusses some focal issues connected with the relevant myth and ritual. By way of introduction, the first chapte~ presents a survey of the history and development of the myth and ritual debate. One of its objects is to discover why this debate started in the last quarter of the nineteenth century and why it was revived in the last quarter of the twentieth. Another purpose is to show that the two shifting paradigms, so conspicuous here, naturally exploited the same dramatic material of 'dying and rising heroes' . The reason is that the two festive types under discussion-the New Year festival and the rites of initiation-both involve the notion of transition as their central feature. The former type was discovered and researched in the framework of the 'fertility paradigm', the latter in that of the social interpretation of religion. The title of this chapter does not imply that nothing has changed between the two stages of the debate-on the contrary, the chapter shows exactly how much has changed-but it 3 The essay that was first published in the Dutch periodical Lampas 17 (1984) 194-246, was translated by P. P. J. van Cas pel and edited by L. Edmunds for publication in Edmunds 1990. Renate Schlesier offered a shower of comments and suggestions on this version. Chr. Auffarth's pertinent reactions prompted me to clarify my argument further and to adjust my formulations.
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INTRODUCTION
does give expression to views concerning both the identical thematic contents and the functionally related natures of these two types of festival. Myth and ritual of transition and reversal: even the outsider will expect an occasional paradox or inconsistency here. Yet it appears that many scholars, especially those of a previous generation, are unwilling to accept the internal inconsistencies in the myths and rituals of reversal. Once more, the 'strain towards congruence' (Q. Skinner) makes itself manifest. The thesis that these internal contradictions should not be smoothed over or-worse-explained away, for instance by assuming a fusing of traditions (an overworked panacea in classical scholarship), is advanced in chapter II, on Kronos and the Kronia4 . The utopian imagery of the Golden Race under king Kronos is reflected in the affluence and euphoria of the Attic festival of the Kronia; the dystopian traits of despotism, cruelty, savagery-in short, the radical abolition of moral standards-, which are another recurring characteristic of the mythical Kronos, can be recognized in some (alleged) Kronian cults and sacrifices. It is argued that the stark contradictions in these complexes of myth and ritual reveal the very essence of their function and message. The third chapter5 has a similar objective with respect to the closely related Roman myth and ritual of Saturnus and the Saturnalia. Fortunately, the evidence here permits us to cast glances both backward and forward in time. Accordingly, there is an attempt to discover the origins of the Saturnalian festival and one of Saturnus' early functions, including the nature of the goddess Lua Saturni. On the other hand, the Saturnalian imagery provides an ideal opportunity for demonstrating how the contradictory-utopian and dystopian-components could be (and were) still eagerly exploited in the early imperial period. Their continuing power becomes apparent in expressions illustrating the reigns of two emperors: they give voice to the high expectations of the reign of Augustus and to the disillusion after the disconcertingly 'Saturnalian' emperor 4 A first, shorter version of this chapter was commented on and edited by Jan Bremmer for publication in Bremmer 1987a. 5 Jan Bremmer and Fritz Graf offered comments on the first three sections, and Gerhard Binder read the entire chapter. We also discussed the theme of section 4 during the 'Bochumer Altertumswissenschaftliches Colloquium', on: "Karnevaleske Phiinomene in antiken und nachantiken Kulturen und Literaturen" in May 1992.
INTRODUCTION
5
Claudius. Finally, there is a sketch of the revival of Saturnian myth and ritual in the late Roman empire. While chapter II and chapter III deal with a Greek and a closely related Roman myth and ritual complex respectively, each of the next two chapters treats a pair of comparable instances of Greek and Roman myth and ritual. In chapter IV the Roman festival of Bona Dea is compared with the Greek Thesmophoria6 . Both are women's festivals displaying a reversal of roles and, more generally, a suspension of normal routine. Here a focal problem emerges: how do we explain the paradox that, on the one hand, matrons celebrate their basic procreative qualities in rites that focus on sexual symbolism, while, on the other, they are rigorously prevented by antaphrodisiac symbolism from satisfying their erotic desires? It can even be argued that matrons were temporarily reduced to the status of virgins during these festivals. In both cases the concomitant myths help us to explain the ritual paradox in the light of the contrasting functions and images of matrons and virgins in ancient society. The conclusion is that, if there is a necessary return to 'precultural' circumstances during these festivals, matrons cannot continue to act as matrons. They must once again assume the status of maidens on the brink of marriage. Exactly hundred years have passed since Roscher claimed that Apollo and Mars shared so many elements of myth and ritual that they must originally have been identical gods. In accordance with the prevailing 'meteorological' preoccupations of the time, the gods were considered to be images of the Sun. This theory was sufficiently untenable to be completely discarded soon after its emergence. As a corollary, the similarities in the myth and ritual of Apollo and Mars disappeared from the discussion as well. Chapter V presents a reconsideration and elaboration of Roscher's arguments for his comparison 7 . For, as a matter of fact, they appear remarkable enough to require a new analysis and explanation. This explanation is sought in the gods' early roles in the context of initiation. With respect to Apollo, Jane Harrison's earlier initiatory suggestions 6 The English version of an abridged draft of this chapter was corrected by P. Walcot for publication in the "European" issue of G&R 1992, appearing in the same year as the present book. Josine Blok and Fritz Graf contributed some comments. 7 An earlier version appeared in Visible Religion 4/5 (1985/6) 134-72. I benefitted from comments and suggestions by Jan Bremmer and Fritz Graf.
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INTRODUCTION
have been circumstantially substantiated by Walter Burkert. I now argue for a similar function for early Mars, who, as both myth and ritual indicate (and as might be expected), is more directly concerned with the military aspects of Italic initiatory practice. Myth and Ritual of transition and reversal cannot but provoke paradoxes, ambiguities, contradictions-in short, inconsistencies; and that is what this book is about. However, as is evident from the above survey of contents, no chapter can ignore the history of the issue and the shift in the paradigms that form the frame of interpretation; indeed, some chapters actually make it their task to discuss these questions. In other words, this is myth and ritual in transition, which calls for a few further remarks. In a Dutch anthropological periodical8 , the Indian anthropologist Rajendra Pradhan analyses a peculiar feature of the Dutch character: the obsession with the weather. In his attempt to detect why this is so, and more especially why this is manifested through frequent conversation on the topic, he distinguishes three types of explanation: a) the physical or climactic; b) the social; and c) the cultural. The first two explanations are offered by his Dutch informants themselves as follows: a. we talk about weather because, unlike the inhabitants of more privileged regions, we have weather, and very bad, ever-changing and unpredictable weather at that, b. we talk about weather because, since it is uncivil to keep silent in the presence of fellow humans, it is a neutral topic, useful as an initial point of contact with a stranger or as a stopgap when an angel is passing ove~. Talking about weather therefore involves a stark paradox: it functions as an instrument for maintaining social cohesion by the act of not really saying anything. These two explanations belong to 'native exegesis', to use V. W. Turner's phrase. For this very reason, they are liable to serious suspicion in anthropological circles. Consequently, Pradhan considers
8 Mooi weer, meneer. Why do the Dutch speak so often about the weather? Etnofoor 2 ( 1989) 3-14, with thanks to Marlies Jan sen for drawing my attention to it. 9 G. Leech, Semantics. The Study of Meanings (Harmondsworth 1981) calls this the 'phatic function of language', and defines it as (41 ): ''the function of keeping communication lines open, and keeping social relationships in good repair ... it is not what one says, but the fact that one says it at all, that matters". On phatic speech and its insidious consequences for the interpretation of written or spoken source material see: Inconsistencies I, Introduction.
INTRODUCTION
7
these explanations inadequate, or at least not exhaustive, without discarding them completely. The real solution, he argues, is to be sought in a third option, the cultural explanation, which answers to the demands of the 'collective mentality': c. the Dutch are obsessed with the weather for the very reason that it does not fit neatly into their scheme of things, which is based on order, regularity and control. The Dutch, he states, prefer everything to be regular, ordered and controlled: you have only to look at the polders with their straight canals, the neat gardens, the rigid temporal framework of social life, with fixed times to eat, to pay visits, to work and to interrupt work, etc., etc. Now, the ever-changing and unpredictable Dutch weather is a metaphor for all that is irregular, disorderly and uncontrollable. That is why it is discussed, not only with an occasional stranger but also and even more 'ritually' in the private domain of the family, till death us do part. I mention this discussion because it is a splendid and very recognizable illustration of one of the implicit (and sometimes explicit) premises of the present book: that in explaining codes and conventions-in our case: myths and rituals-it is most naive, unprofitable, unwise and therefore inadmissible to adopt a single, monolithic clue and to ignore or decline all others unconditionally as being superseded, short-sighted or downright stupid. If we transpose the above three options to the conceptual categories of the well-known scholarly approaches to the interpretation of religion, anybody will immediately recognize the three major schemes connected with the names of Tylor, Durkheim and (for instance) Geertz respectively, i.e. with 1) the substantive, 2) the functionalist, and 3) the cosmological, symbolic-perhaps including structuralist and semiotic-, cultural approaches to religion; or, to put it another way, religion as communication, as social cohesion and as orientation 10 . "Belief in spiritual beings" was Tylor's "rudimentary [or] minimum definition of religion" 11 . Belief in these beings involved the 10 It is unnecessary, of course, to dwell on this classification, which can be found in any historical survey of anthropology, especially anthropological approaches to religion. I have especially consulted: Kardiner & Preble 1962; Van Baal 1971; Waardenburg 1974; Lewis 1976; Sharpe 1980; Evans-Pritchard 1981; Kuper 1985; Doty 1986; Harris 1986; Morris 1987. Cf. below p.15 n.l. For a recent, stimulating and critical summary I refer to Platvoet 1990, to whose discussion I am much indebted. 11 For a long list of sympathizers up to 1966 see Platvoet 1990, n.29. For a short
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INTRODUCTION
necessity of communicating with them. Tylor and his contemporaries, especially J. G. Frazer, viewed this communication first and foremost from the perspective of the wish to achieve direct goals: fertility of the human population, of cattle and fields, and defence against illness and enemies. 'Religion as communication' one might also call it 12 , albeit in the strict sense of communication with addressable objects of religion and in the context of generally clearly defined, specific goals. Though it has been heavily censured by representatives oflater schools for its 'individualism', 'intellectualism', 'utilitarianism', 'evolutionism', and a craving for 'origins' 13 , more recent investigators-even in the field of sociology 14-are heading for a re-evaluation of the Tylorian position 15 . "Religion as social cohesion" is the well-known Durkheimian definition. Durkheim's phrase "The reality expressed by religious thought is society" 16 highlights a radical farewell to any religious discussion: B. Gladigow, HrwG I (1988) 26-40. Of course, the phenomenological school is the most conspicuous inheritor, with R. Otto and, in a different way, M. Eliade as the most important names. Cf. for instance R. Otto's attack on the functionalist approach (Das Heilige [Breslau 1917) 8): "Wer das nicht kann (i.e. 'sich besinnen') oder wer solche Momente iiberhaupt nicht hat, ist gebeten nicht weiter zu lesen. Denn wer sich zwar auf seine Pubertiits-gefiihle Verdauungs-stockungen oder auch Sozial-Gefiihle besinnen kann, auf eigentiimlich religiose Gefiihle aber nicht, mit dem ist es schwierig Religions-psychologie zu treiben." 12 As does Platvoet 1990. 13 In the background there is sometimes fear of Western ethnocentric projection in the Tylorian model. In general, these warnings are salutary. I refer for instance to H. G. Kippenberg, Diskursive Religionswissenschaft, in: B. Gladigow & H. G. Kippenberg (edd.), Neue Ansi.itze in der Religionswissenschaft (Munich 1983) 9-28; idem, Introduction, in: H. G. Kippenberg & B. Luchesi (edd. ), Magie. Die sozialwissenschajtliche Kontroverse uber das Verstehenjremden Denkens (Frankfurt 1978). However, one detects traces of paranoia here and there, especially in the sheer spasmodic fear of the use of the term magic. I have discussed this in: H. S. Versnel, Some Reflections on the Relationship Magic-Religion, Numen 38 ( 1991) 177-97. In my view, it is an illusion to believe that the substantive approach is more ethnocentric than, say, the semiotic. I~ One of the most impressive: P. L. Berger, Some Second Thoughts on Substantive versus Functional Definitions of Religion, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 13 (1974) 125-33. He reproaches the functionalists for an "interest in quasiscientific legitimation of the avoidance of transcendence''. 15 See for instance: R. Horton, A Definition of Religion and Its Uses, Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 90 ( 1960) 201-20; idem, N eo-Tylorianism: Sound Sense or Sinister Prejudice?, Man 3 (1968) 625-34; E. Ross, Neo-Tylorianism: A Reassessment, Man 6 (1971) 105-16. 16 "La realite qu'exprime Ia pensee religieuse est Ia societe", Les formes elhnentaires de la vie religieuse (Paris 1912) 616, and cf. the statements quoted below p.26 n.22.
INTRODUCTION
9
objective beyond the social function as a cohesive instrument. Again, later specialists17 have mercilessly denounced its deficiencies: it is a (deliberately) reductionist 18 definition, which aims to explain religion fully in terms of one of its non-religious social functions. It has been correctly objected that, on the one hand, it is not applicable to all religious behaviour 19 , and, on the other, it is applicable to many non-religious rites. Furthermore, there is the persistent danger of petitio principii in the analysis and interpretation of (religious) motives, most conspicuous in the frequent confusion of intent and effect. 20 Yet few will deny that the study of the social functions of religion has been and still is an important and most productive branch of religious studies 21 . "Religion as orientation" 22 , "to create a world of meaning in the context of which human life can be significantly lived" 23 , is the third of the major definitions. The difference with the previous one is that it does not primarily ask what religion does for society, but what 17 H. H. Penner, The Poverty of Functionalism, HR 11 (1971) 91-7; idem, Impasse and Resolution: A Critique of the Study of Religion (New York 1989); H. Burhenn, Functionalism and the Explanation of Religion, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 19 (1980) 350-60; Berger, o.c. (above n.14). Cf. M. E. Spiro, Religion: Problems of Definition and Explanation, in: Banton 1966, 85-126, against interpreting religion in terms of the non-religious aspects of religion instead of its religious aspects. !8 On types of reduction see: E. H. Pyle, Reduction and the 'Religious' Explanation of Religion, Religion 9 (1979) 197-214. 19 Particularly aggravating is the fact that functionalism cannot account for the revolutionary and sometimes anti-social aspects of religion, and its failure to account for social change: I. C. Jarvie, The Revolution in Anthropology (London 1964). 20 R. K. Merton, Social Theory and Social Structure part 1, published separately as idem, On Theoretical Sociology (New York-London 1967) is still a lucid introduction to the merits and pitfalls of the functionalist approach. Cf. also: G. W. Stocking Jr. (ed.), Functionalism Historicized (Madison 1984), esp. 106-30. 21 Cf. for instance: R.N. McCauley & E. Th. Lawson, Functionalism Reconsidered, HR 23 (1984) 372-81. 22 Best-known in the form in which it was introduced by C. Geertz, Religion as a Cultural System, in: Banton 1966, 1-46 = Geertz 1973, 87-125, from which I quote his well-known definition of religion (p. 90): "a system of symbols which acts to establish powerful, pervasive, and long-lasting moods and motivations in men by formulating conceptions of a general order of existence and clothing these conceptions with such an aura of factuality that the moods and motivations seem uniquely realistic". Geertz had predecessors, among whom I single out Mary Douglas. Segal1980, 181 contrasts her to Hooke, Durkheim, Malinowski, and Radcliffe Brown (while Penner 1968, 51, adds: Kluckhohn, Spiro and Leach) and praises her for concentrating on the meaning, not the effect of ritual. See below ch. I, nn.67 f. Cf. Platvoet 1990, 202 n.34. 23 T. F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewoods Cliffs 1966) 5.
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INTRODUCTION
it says about society (and culture). The focus is on 'meaning' 24 instead of 'effect'; on 'making sense', instead of 'effectuating cohesion'. The similarity with the Durkheimian definition is that both nonetheless are essentially 'functionalist': in the service of society, either as an instrument for maintaining its coherence or as an instrument for constructing a cosmology 'to live by' 25 . Another point of similarity is that this symbolic-cosmological function is not restricted to religion either. It is therefore legitimate to lump together the latter two options as an instrumental and a symbolic functionalist 26 definition respectively, and to contrast this functionalist category with the Tylorian substantivist-communicative definition. In the domain of myth and ritual, a good illustration of what I mean is offered by W. R. Comstock27 , who distinguishes inter alia the following aspects in the functions of myth and ritual: they 1) provide "assistance in the symbolic articulation of the social patterns and relationships themselves", 2) serve to "validate the society", 3) contain a "performatory function", 4) have a "heuristic, educative" function, and 5) are helpful in "solving personal and social dilemmas". It will be immediately apparent that here symbolic and instrumental functions, if distinguishable at all, cannot be separated, since one is often dependent on the other. 24 Geertz accepts the challenge conveyed by S. Langer, Philosophical Sketches (Baltimore 1962), that "the concept of meaning, in all its varieties, is the dominant philosophical concept of our time", that "sign, symbol, denotation, signification, communication ... are our [intellectual] stock in trade." And, with Max Weber, he basically believes that man is ''an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself has spun", Geertz 1973, 5. 2 5 Geertz 1973, 118, himself, speaking of the effects of a special ritual, says: ''By inducing a set of moods and motivations-an ethos-and defining an image of cosmic order-a world view-by means of a single set of symbols, the performance makes the model for and model of aspects of religious belief mere transpositions of one another." 26 Instrumental and expressive symbols are distinguished by Mary Douglas 1970, 3. Cf. particularly the phrase ofGeertz quoted in the preceding note. In the same vein already: W. J. Goode, Religion among the Primitives (New York 1951) 223: "Religion expresses the unity of society, but it also helps to create that unity". Cf. Doty 1986, 44 ff. There is also a higher common multiple of the two 'functions' "doing for" and "saying about", in a statement made by P. Berger o.c. (above n.14) 127, in his discussion of the 'functionalists' R. Bellah, C. Geertz, and Th. Luckmann: "In all three cases, religion is defined in terms of what is does-be it for society, for the individual, or for both. And this, of course, is what the word 'functional' essentially means." Cf. also Platvoet 1990, 202 n.33. 27 The Study of Religion and Primitive Religions (New York 1972) 38-40. For an evaluation see: Doty 1986, 48 f.
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11
In distinguishing 'substantive' and 'functional' approaches to religion one may feel tempted to apply the term 'paradigm', and I have occasionally yielded to that temptation. In doing so, I am consistently referring to the division between the nineteenth-century 'substantive' paradigm with its focus on individual and often utilitarian motives, and the twentieth-century 'socio-cultural' paradigm, with its emphasis on collective mentality and behaviour. I mention the term 'paradigm' especially because the recent discussion of this concept may help to clarify one of the main themes in the present volume: the reluctance to select a single clue as a unique, monolithic and exclusive definition, while radically rejecting other ones. Th. S. Kuhn recently complained that his concept 'paradigm' is being grossly abused and misinterpreted in the modern discussion28. Though understandable, this reaction seems a bit naive. The inventor of a concept should be delighted that the invention is so widely acknowledged that it has found a niche in everyday jargon, which simply needs 'broad definitions' 29 . The same has happened to terms like 'taboo', though the Polynesians have not drawn much glory from their contribution to our language. After all, we all have a broad idea of what we are talking about when we use the term 'structuralist', however vague the concept may be, and few will need (or could stand) Fx(a): Fy(b) = Fx(b):Fa -1(y), to further a better understanding of what is really intended. However, there was yet another target for Kuhn's displeasure. While some applications of Kuhn's concept of 'paradigm' in the natural sciences are open to criticism 30 , the concept has proved Scientific American (May 1991) 14 f. This is not to say that the use of the term paradigm should be open to any whim of any speaker. M. Bernal's flirtation with "a post-Kuhnian age, (in which) paradigm shifts or flip-flops of a fundamental sort are now seen as possible'', (Arethusa, special issue 1989, 17; on p.55 he is even praised for having offered several paradigms in his Black Athena!) is verging on improper use (in more than one sense of the word). Cf. M. B. Skinner, CJ 83 (1987) 70-1, who refers to the 1973 and 1978 issues of Arethusa, which made isolated researchers (in women's studies) suddenly aware of a common endeavour, as "Clearly an example of a Kuhnian 'paradigm-shift' in operation.'' It may be so, but one should beware of inflation. For a similar criticism of Ginzburg's use of the concept 'paradigm' see: P. H. H. Vries, De historicus als spoorzoeker, Theoretische Geschiedenis 15 ( 1988) 163-83, revised in: idem, Vertellers of drift. Een verhandeling over de nieuwe verhalende geschiedenis (Hilversum 1990) 86-107, esp. 98. For a balanced account of paradigms and ancient history see: J. Ober, Models and Paradigms in Ancient History, The Ancient History Bulletin 3 ( 1989) 134-7. 30 After The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago 19702 ), Kuhn revised his 28 29
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INTRODUCTION
helpful in analysing developments in the social sciences. However, it has been pointed out that in this sector paradigms are, as a rule, not radically exclusive. This tolerance has earned anthropology the qualification: 'polyparadigmatic' 31 , which is exactly what I had in mind with the rainy introduction to this theoretical discussion. If you arrive soaking wet (and late) at work, you will talk about the rain, but not necessarily in order to foster communication. What you really (want to) do is to curse your beastly climate. This perfectly substantive behaviour may even lead to a direct communication with the rain, such as by cursing it all the way to your office in a monologue interieur. You may also use your climatological comments in the Durkheimian functionalist sense, to fill a gap. It happens all the time, and it is subject to the same restrictions as the Durkheimian interpretation of religion, since a discussion of politics or the price of vegetables may function in the same way. Finally, your comments may also very well be taken as an expression of the collective mentality, in the sense of cultural or cosmological interpretation, although, as a rule, this will be harder to substantiate. Similarly, whoever throws pigs into a chasm and after some time places the putrefied remains on an altar before spreading them over the fields is acting in an essentially substantive manner. Ignoring, neglecting or playing down this aspect, as overenthusiastic addicts to the social or cultural interpretation of religion are sometimes tempted to do, cannot but result in desperately cramped interpretations. However, this does not mean that different connotations of the ritual do not deserve serious attention 32 , nor that the 'fertility' interpretation should reign supreme33 . In fact, it is even less recomideas in The Essential Tension (Chicago 1977). For criticism see for instance: I. Lakatos, Falsification and the Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes, in: I. Lakatos and A. Musgrave (eds.), Criticism and the Growth of Knowledge (Cambridge 1970) 91-196; P. Feyerabend, Against Method (London 1975). 31 For application of the concept 'paradigm' to social theory see: B. Barnes, T. S. Kuhn and Social Science (London 1982). On 'tolerance': S. Seiler, Wissenschajtstheorie in der Ethnologie. Zur Kritik und Weiterfuhrung der Theorie von Thomas S. Kuhn anhand ethnographischen Materials (Berlin 1980); P. Kloos, Culturele antropologie als polyparadigmatische wetenschap, in: A. de Ruijter (ed.), Beginselen in botsing (Utrecht 1981). 32 For a different (additional) meaning of the pigs see: p.256 33 In fact, much of the criticism of the monomaniac fertility interpretation is fully justified and convincing. See for instance: H. Cancik, Fruchtbarkeit, HrwG 2 (1990) 447-50.
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13
mendable to start a total war against Durkheimian and Turnerian explanations and stubbornly adhere to the old rule of rain magic and fertility 34 . Nor is it necessary to swap instrumental functionalist interpretations completely for semiotic/symbolic ones 35 . In my view, the three types of interpretation should be put to the test in any issue, for they say different things about religion, myth and ritual. Each of them may turn out to be helpful in explaining elements that cannot be explained by others 36 • That they are not mutually exclusive I hope to show in every chapter of this book. The (new) fascination for 'initiatory' interpretations37 , for instance, is 34 N. Robertson is perhaps the most characteristic-and militant-represen· tative of this attitude. Cf. for instance, The Riddle of the Arrhephoria at Athens, HSCPh 87 (1983) 241-88, esp. 280,: "the concept of 'initiation rites' in ancient Greece needs to be contested on the whole broad front where its proponents are entrenched''. Why this crusade? The curious results of his most learned but genuinely regressive approach will become apparent at various points in the present book. See for instance his interpretation of the Thessalian Peloria ("festival of the giants") as tables heaped with food, below Ch. II p.131 n.136. For a more differentiated approach see below n.36. 3 5 As F. Zeitlin is in danger of doing in an exclamation quoted below p.244, though in the same article she convincingly combines the agricultural and the social 'paradigms' in the context of the Oschophoria, Pyanopsia and Theseia festivals. Cf. also the criticism by D. Sider, CW82 (1988) 127, of Bremmer 1987a, as cited in Inconsistencies I, 30 n.93. 36 I find this exemplarily demonstrated by A. F. C. Wallace, Religion: An Anthropological View (New York 1966) 168 ff., though he restricts himself to biological, psychological and sociological functions. In a different way, this is expressed by G. J. Baudy, Exkommunikation und Reintegration. Zur Genese und Kulturfunktion fruhgriechischer Einstellungen zum Tod (Frankfurt 1980) 574 n.137: "Wer ( ... )neue Komponenten zu isolieren versteht, sollte das bereits Entdeckte nicht beiseiteschieben, damit die eigene Leistung in umso hellerem Licht erstrahle, sondern sich urn eine Integration bemiihen." The same author offers some valuable remarks on the ever important agricultural aspects of early religions in his: Das alexandrinische Erntefest: Ein Rekonstruktionsversuch, Mitteilungen fur Anthropologie und Religionsgeschichte 6 (1991) 5-110, esp. p.6 with n.1. And cf. below p.167 n.136. 37 Initiation, or more generally 'transition', is as popular an issue within the present socio-cultural paradigm as was Frazer's dying and rising king/god in his substantive one. There is a hectic activity in the application of initiatory elements these days, which will be treated in chapter I. In his review of Bremmer 1987a, containing contributions by a great number of scholars, C. Grottanelli, HR 29 (1989) 58-64, esp. 63, writes: "This book is not the only sign that initiation ( .... ) may be the new (though not so new) dernier cri", followed by a few warning remarks. There is a spate of recent or planned monographs: Chr. Sourvinou-Inwood, Studies in Girl's Transitions: Aspects of the Arkteia and Age Representation in Attic Iconography (Athens 1988); K. Dowden, Death and the Maiden: Girl's Initiation Rites in Greek Mythology (London-New York 1989); Y. Dacosta, Initiations et societes secretes dans l'antiquite greco-romaine (Paris 1991). J. N. Bremmer's forthcoming book Birth,
14
INTRODUCTION
certainly helpful and revealing in a number of instances but, as will be argued in the first chapter, it runs the same risks of monopolisation and dogmatism as did the dying and rising god in the paradigm of Frazer's magico-religious views. However, trying to be as inconsistent as possible, I shall add a new initiatory god to the rapidly expanding list in the fifth chapter, while also trying to show that a (mildly) structuralist analysis may very well be combined with questions of social origins. Something comparable is attempted in the combination of the socio-cultural interpretation of the Saturnalia and the enquiry into its agricultural background (indeed, a question of origins). The three approaches will be most apparent in the fourth chapter. The women's festivals include aspects offertility, of social function, and of cultural meaning. All this means that there is an ambiguity in the title, as is fitting for a book in a series on inconsistencies: transitions and reversals are not only the themes of the myths and rituals under discussion, but they also indicate the changes in the interpretation of myth and ritual during the last hundred years. Maturity, and Death in Ancient Greece focuses on related issues. For more literature see ch. I below. Furthermore, there have been two conferences on the theme in recent years, one in Montpellier in 1991, and one in Rome, which resulted in a special fascicle of MEFRA 102 (1990) 1-137. And, of course, there is the present volume.
CHAPTER ONE
WHAT IS SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR THE GANDER: MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW And it was in this way that the complex of myth and ritual, though not indissoluble, became a major force in forming ancient cultures, and as it were, dug those deep vales of human tradition in which even today the streams of our experience will tend to flow. W. Burkert
The debate on the complex of problems concerning the interrelation of myth and ritual is exactly a century old by now. The primary aim of the present chapter is to obtain an insight into its history and development. I have found that it is impossible to gain an adequate impression of the present state of theory in this field if its previous history is overlooked or is sketched along too rudimentary lines. Naturally, a survey of the evolution in toto means entering an already well-ploughed field. There is no lack of historical and critical surveys of earlier views and I have made grateful use of them 1 . The 1 This is only a selection of titles on the theory of myth and ritual (for literature on specific myth and ritual complexes see below nn.21 ff. and 35 ff.): C. Kluckhohn, Myths and Rituals. A General Theory, HThR 35 (1942) 45-79, reprinted in: J. B. Vickery (ed. ), Myth and Literature (Lincoln 1969) 33-44; L. Raglan, Myth and Ritual, and S. E. Hyman, The Ritual View of Myth and the Mythic, both in: Sebeok 1974, 122-35 and 136-53; W. Bascom, The Myth-Ritual Theory, journal of American Folklore 70 (1957) 103-14; Ph. M. Kaberry, Myth and Ritual: Some Recent Theories, BIGS 4 (1957) 42-53; J. Fontenrose, The Ritual Theory of Myth (Berkeley-Los Angeles 1966); H. H. Penner, Myth and Ritual: A Wasteland or a Forest of Symbols? H&TBeiheft 8 (1968) 46-57; R. A. Segal, The Myth-Ritualist Theory of Religion, Journal of the Scientific Study of Religion 19 (1980) 173-85. Also important are the relevant passages in Kirk 1971, 8-31; Kirk 1974, 66-8; 223-53; Burkert 1979, 34-9; 56-8; Burkert 1980, 172-82; Graf 1985a, 43-5 7. The title ofW. G. Doty, Mythography. The Study ofMyths and Rituals (Alabama 1986), is slightly misleading in so far as the bulk of the book consists of a (good) discussion of various theoretical approaches to myth, though including two (good) chapters on myth and ritual. I would also mention the interesting chapter 'La ripetizione miticorituale' in Di Nola 1974, which treats the subject from the perspective of 'repetition phenomena'. Not all of these publications, which will be henceforth cited by name and date, are of equal value. The article by Kaberry, for instance, is insignificant; both Penner and Segal fail to draw the necessary distinctions
16
CHAPTER ONE
emphasis here is on those aspects of the theories of myth and ritual that relate to the ancient cultures of the Mediterranean world, a feature that distinguishes this essay from, for instance, Kluckhohn 1942, Kaberry 1957, Penner 1968, and Segal 1980, all of them studies offering a broader, notably anthropological perspective. I have tried, moreover, to prevent the critical element from dominating: Bascom 1957 and Fontenrose 1966 contain many valuable thoughts, but, because of their strongly negative bias, are not the appropriate tools for an introduction to the subject. In plan and approach my introduction is closest to the survey by Burkert 1980, which, however, does not go beyond a summary view. What distinguishes the present effort from all its predecessors is that it does not stop short at those theories that, until now, have been associated with the phrase 'myth and ritual', but pays special attention to the newest trends in classical studies. The main task I have set myself is to show where the roots of the recent approach are to be found; to what extent there is a connection between the old and the new points of view; and, finally, to pose the question whether the gap that separates them is as unbridgeable as is commonly believed. The way I have arranged the material is unorthodox and some aspects of the disposition are no doubt debatable. The two phases are characterized by two names: Jane Ellen Harrison and Walter Burkert. The overall structure, moreover, is based on Harrison's suggestions about the various ways in which myth and ritual may be connected. 1.
QuESTIONS
Myth was the dominant factor in nineteenth century (and earlier) studies of the history of religion until a change took place somewhere in the last quarter of the century. Textbooks that nowadays would carry 'Religionsgeschichte', 'history of religion', in the titles were then classified regularly as 'mythology', as witness the well-known works by Gruppe, Preller and Roscher. Ritual dominates the scene in practically all the textbooks on Greek and Roman religion during most of the twentieth century.
between the theories of Harrison and Hooke (see below pp.23-37). In the otherwise important article of Segal one reads: "According to myth and ritualist theory religion is primitive science", which is, as a general rule, quite mistaken.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
17
This is what M.P. Nilsson says when speaking about the protagonists in this field from around the turn of the century, H. Usener2 and A. Dieterich3 : "Der Umschwung war vollendet: statt der Mythen waren die Riten in den Vordergrund getreten" ("The reversal was complete: instead of myths, rites had come to the fore''). Nilsson, author of the two monumental volumes of Geschichte der griechischen Religion4 , ''that masterpiece of patient brilliance'', as it has been called\ died in 1967, the year in which the third edition of volume I was published. On the same page I quoted from, Nilsson continues: "Seitdem ist keine durchgreifende oder grundsatzliche Anderung der Methode und der Richtung der Forschung eingetreten" ("Since then there has not been any radical or essential change in method and direction of research"). In this nonagenarian's view, then, rite, cult, and ceremonial action had carried the day, once and for all. Only recently, nonetheless, an American scholar, B. Lincoln, complained that "ritual (is) a neglected area for study ( ... ) for most scholars have tended to give far more attention to myth than to ritual", and "there still exists a grievous imbalance in favor of myth" 6 . 2 On this 'heros ktistes der modernen Religionswissenschaft' (thus his son-in-law, A. Dieterich, in ARW 8 (1905] p.X.) see: H.-J. Mette, Nekrolog einer Epoche: Hermann Usener und seine Schule, Lustrum 22 (1979/80) 5-106; A. Momigliano, New Paths of Classicism in the Nineteenth Century, H&TBeiheft 21 (1982) 33-48; Aspetti di Hermann Usener, jilologo della religione. Seminario della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa (Pisa 1982);J. N. Bremmer, Hermann Usener,in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 127-41. Cf. also: R. Kany, Mnemosyne als Programm. Geschichte, Erinnerung und die Andacht zum Unbedeutenden im Werk von Usener, Warburg und Benjamin (Tiibingen 1987). 3 There is a bibliography of this 'founding father' of the German 'religionsgeschichtliche' school in his Kleine Schriften (Leipzig-Berlin 1911) 11-42. 4 Nilsson I (Munich 19673, 1940 1l, II (Munich 1961 2 , 1950 1l. A bibliography of Nilsson's works: E. J. Knudtson, Beitrage zu einer Bibliographie Martin P. Nilsson, in: Dragma: Festschrift M. P. Nilsson (Lund 1939) 571-656, reprinted in Scripta Minora (1967-68, Lund 1968) 29-116; C. Callmer, The Published Writings of Prof. M.P. Nilsson 1939-1967, ibid. 117-39. Cf. Waardenburg 1974, 191-7. Biographical sketches and evaluations of his works are given by E. Gjerstad, M. P. Nilsson in memoriam, Scripta Minora (1967-68) 17-28; C.-M. Edsman, Martin P. Nilsson 1874-1967, Temenos 3 (1968) 173-6; McGinty 1978, 104-40; J. Meijer, in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 335-40. 5 Thus A. D. Nock, who was honoured by his fellow students with the proud title of 'the greatest living authority on Pauly-Wissowa', and who was lauded by Nilsson (GGR Vorwort) as "der bewiihrteste Kenner der spatantiken Religion". For an epistolary contact between the two giants see: M. P. Nilsson, Letter to Professor A. D. Nock, HThR 42 (1949) 71-107; 44 (1951) 143-51. There is a bibliography in Nock 1972, II, 966-86. 6 B. Lincoln, Two Notes on Modern Rituals,JAAR 45 (1977) 149.
18
CHAPTER ONE
What actually happened, then, in the interval between Nilsson's complacent statement, dating from the middle of this century, and Lincoln's complaint in 1977? Has the evident shift of interest from myth to ritual round 1900 been followed by a reverse movement in recent decades? In a way, this is indeed what has happened, as can be seen from a comparison of Nilsson's work referred to above with W. Burkert's textbook of Greek religion (Burkert 1985) or his more explicit study of myth and ritual (Burkert 1979). Like other modern scholars, Burkert has given myth its due once again. A theory of myth and ritual worthy of the name should focus on myth and ritual; it is therefore no coincidence that both the myth and ritual complexes I plan to discuss were discovered at a time when-precisely because of the shift of interest-both elements were topics of debate: the last quarter of the 19th and the last quarter of the 20th century. A qualification might be in order, though: myth, of course, has never been supplanted completely by ritual. Some scholars have set great store by myth, such as Freud, Jung, and Kerenyi from a psychological viewpoint; Dumezil, whose comparative mythology, as far as the classical cultures are concerned, focuses specially on Rome-a subject that I shall leave out of account here-or Mircea Eliade, whose phenomenological school includes Lincoln, quoted above. Furthermore, myth, of course, takes pride of place in the studies of the Paris school of Vern ant, Vidal-N aquet and Detienne 7 , and in other recent, especially semiotic, studies. It may not be too 7 A discussion of Kerenyi and Dumezil would be beyond the scope of the present chapter. On the latter see: C. S. Littleton, The New Comparative Mythology. An Anthropological Assessment of the Theories of Georges Dumezil (Berkeley- London 1966, 1982 3); 'Aspetti dell'opera di Georges Dumezil', Opus 2 (1983) 327-421; J.-C. Riviere, Georges Dumizil ala decouverte des Indo-Europiens (Paris 1979); J. Ries, L' apport de Georges Dumezil a !'etude comparee des religions, RTh 20 (1989) 440-66; Belier 1991. Neither do I discuss the representatives of the Paris school here, not because their work is of no interest for the study of myths and rituals-cf. for the contrary Inconsistencies I, ch. 2, and various sections of the present book-, but because whenever they try to bring them into a cohesive pattern, they practically never do so in the usual sense of' myth and ritual'. Gordon 1981 offers an excellent introduction to their ideas. See also: Ch. Segal, Jean-Pierre Vern ant and the Study of Ancient Greece, Arethusa 15 (1982) 221-34; R. di Donato, Aspetti e momenti di un percorso intellettuale: Jean-Pierre Vernant, RSI 96 (1984) 680-95; W. B. Tyrrell & F. S. Brown, Athenian Myths and Institutions: Words in Action (Oxford 1991). For Eliade on Eliade see: M. Eliade,journey East, journey West I, II (San Francisco 1981 ). See further: J .A. Saliba, 'Homo Religiosus' in Mircea Eliade. An Anthropological Evaluation (Leiden 1976) and I.P. Culianu, Mircea Eliade (Assisi 1978). Critical views in: G. Dudley, Religion on Trial: Mircea Eliade and his Critics (1977); L. Alfieri,
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
19
adventurous to say that the concept of myth and ritual was engendered by the tension that sprang from having to choose between myth or ritual. That, however, is not the only kind of tension. Here is another instance: in his Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures ( 1971) 31, G. S. Kirk states categorically: "Therefore it will be wise to reject from the outset the idea that myth and religion are twin aspects of the same subject, or parallel manifestations of the same psychic condition just as firmly as we rejected the idea that all myths are associated with rituals". Incidentally, both in this book-embodying his Sather Lectures-and in his still better known The Nature of Greek Myths (1974), one of Kirk's explicit aims is to refute all general theories of the origin, meaning, and function of myth. One of the five 'overall' theories he eliminates is the theory that there is always (at least originally) a link between myth and ritual-the minimum definition of the myth and ritual theory. In 1979, however, Burkert's Sather Lectures appeared in print: Structure and History in Greek Mythology and Ritual. He had certainly read Kirk, but still he states (p. 58): "And it was in this way that the complex of myth and ritual, though not indissoluble, became a major force in forming ancient cultures, and as it were, dug those deep vales of human tradition in which even today the streams of our experience will tend to flow". This has quite a different ring. Indeed, to refer to the evident contrast between the views of these two scholars as a 'tension' would be rather a euphemism. Both views will be discussed later on. For present purposes, it may suffice to ask two obvious questions, to be dealt with consecutively: a. How and when did the idea arise that myth and ritual might be closely related, a view that was evidently so successful that Kirk thought it worthwhile to oppose it emphatically? b. How is one to explain the fact that practically simultaneously two eminent scholars entertain such totally different views of this interrelation? Storia e mito. Una critica a Eliade (Pisa 1978); C. Tacou (ed.), Mircea Eliade (Cahier de l'Herme, Paris 1978). Cf. Smith 1978, 88 ff.; I. Strenski, Four Theories of Myth in Twentieth-Century History (Iowa City 1987) 70-128; Auffahrt 1991, 6-21, whose views will be discussed infra. Eliade phrases his own preference for myth above rite (Methodological Remarks on the Study of Religion, in: M. Eliade and]. Kitagawa (edd.), The History of Religions [Chicago 1959), 86-107) as follows: "Symbol and myth will give a clear view of the modalities (of the sacred) that a rite can never do more than suggest".
20
CHAPTER ONE
2.
THE RISE AND GROWTH OF MYTH AND RITUAL THEORY
Interest in ritual in primitive cultures arose in Germany and Britain more or less simultaneously. In a period in which Max Muller's theories8 reigned supreme and every single myth was thought to be an allegory of meteorological and atmospheric phenomena, W. Mannhardt9 dispatched questionnaires all over Europe in search of traces of belief in vegetation, grain, and wood spirits and related manners and customs. About the same time E. B. Tylor 10 managed to interest the Anglo-Saxon public in the peculiar features of primitive cultures outside Europe. Darwin 11 published his Origin of Species in 1859 and evolution and progress were in the air: might not Mannhardt's rye wolves and stalk hare be the very archetypes from which, much later, the radiant figures of Demeter, Dionysus or Adonis emerged? Might not religion have had its origin in spirit worship? Tylor himself professed a straightforward evolutionism: unable to understand nature around him, primitive man tried to influence his environment. To achieve this he practised magic rites (which did not work, but he did not realize this) and in a later stage 8 J. H. Voigt, Max Muller. The Man and his Ideas (Calcutta 1976). Shorter studies: Van Baal1971, 20-6; R. M. Dorson, The Eclipse of Solar Mythology, in: Sebeok 1974, 25-63; Sharpe 1975, 35-46; Burkert 1980, 166; Lloyd-Jones 1982, 155-64. More in: Graf 1991, 339 n.32. Cf. also F. M. Turner, The Greek Heritage in Victorian Britain (New Haven-London 1981) 77-134, on 'Greek Mythology and Religion' in this period. 9 W. Mannhardt, Roggenwolj und Roggenhund (Danzig 1865-66); Die Korndiimonen (Berlin 1868); Antike Wald- und Feldkulte (Berlin 1875-77, Darmstadt 1904-5 2); Mythologische Forschungen (Strassburg-Landon 1884). On his work and influence see: Frazer GB I, p. XII-XIII; De Vries 1961, 212-6; Waardenburg 1974, 173. 10 E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture (London 1871). An assessment of his work: Kardiner 1962, 56-77; F. Giilz, Der primitive Mensch und seine Religion (Giitersloh 1963) 12-40; Van Baal1971, 30-44; Waardenburg 1974, 288-9; Sharpe 1975, 53-8; U. Bianchi, The History of Religions (Leiden 1975) 83-6; Evans-Pritchard 1981, 91-4; Morris 1987, 91-106, on the 'intellectualists'. Recently, there is a revival of interest in Tylor's evolutionism and its background. See for instance: G. W. Stocking Jr., Matthew Arnold, E.B. Tylor and the Uses of Invention, American Anthropologist 65 (1963) 783-99; M. Opler, Cause, Process, and Dynamics in the Evolutionism of E. B. Tylor, South- Western journal of Anthropology 20 (1964) 123-44; J. W. Burrow, Evolution and Society: A Study in Victorian Social Theory (London 1970 2) 228-59. Cf. Smith 1978, 261 n.58. 11 G. Himmelfarb, Darwin and the Darwinian Revolution (London 1959). Interesting on the social and mental context: J. W. Burrow, o.c. (preceding note); D. F. Bratchell, The Impact of Darwinism. Texts and Commentary Illustrating 19th-century Religious, Scientific and Literary Attitudes (London 1981) and R. J. Richards, Darwin and the Emergence of Evolutionary Theories of Mind and Behavior (Chicago-London 1987). A full biography: P. Brent, Charles Darwin (London 1981, Feltham 1983 2).
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
21
he tried to explain this no longer understood ritual and other riddles by means of some myth (which did not fit in, but he did not realize this either)-a twofold misinterpretation, therefore, for which only Germans could have invented a term such as 'Urdummheit' ('primeval stupidity'), a phrase that did not fail to find a comfortable niche in anthropological jargon 12. Certain vague relations between myth and ritual can be glimpsed, but credit for the first clear-cut theory is due to the Scottish Semitist and theologian W. Robertson Smith, whose famous and influential Lectures on the Religion of the Semites introduced his well-known theory of sacrifice 13 . His interest in 'ritual institutions' as social instruments influenced both Durkheim and Freud; offundamental importance for our subject is the fact that in his view, sacrifice as communion-man shares in the vital force of the consumed animal-acquires an additional mythical dimension: as a totem animal, the sacrificial victim is raised to divine status. Myth arises from a social rite. These are the indispensable preliminary stages. It was, after all, Robertson Smith who pointed out the road taken by his student and friend James Frazer14 . The twelve volumes of Frazer's The Golden Bough-next to the Bible and Kitto's The Greeks-still adorn many a British upper middle class drawing room 15 . The work has been 12 F. R. Lehmann, Der Begriff 'Urdummheit' in der ethnologischen und religionswissenschaftlichen Anschauungen von K.-T. Preuss, A. E. Jensen und G. Murray, Sociologus 2 (1952) 131-45. 13 W. Robertson Smith, Lectures on the Religion of the Semites (Edinburgh 1889, 18942). The German translation Die Religion der Semiten (Tiibingen 1899) was reprinted in 1967. Biographical surveys: J. S. Black and G. Chrystal, The Life of William Robertson Smith (London 1912); T. 0. Beidelmann, William Robertson Smith and the Sociological Study of Religion (Chicago 1974); M. Smith, in: Calder 1991, 251-61. Cf. also: Van Baal1971, 45-53; Waardenburg 1974, 265; Evans-Pritchard 1981, 69-81. E. Durkheim, L'annee sociologique 12 (1913) 326, already referred to "all that we owe to Robertson Smith ... ", and Douglas 1970, 25, states: "Robertson Smith founded social anthropology". 14 "But for Smith", said Frazer, "my interest in the subject [anthropology. H.S.V.] might have remained purely passive and inert" (quoted by Kardiner 1962, 82). See: Ackerman o.c. (next note) 58-63; R. A. Jones, Robertson Smith and James Frazer on Religion, in: G. Stocking Jr. (ed.) Functionalism Historicized, History of Anthropology 2 (Madison 1984) 31-58. 15 J. G Frazer, The Golden Bough I-II (London 1890); I-III 2 (1900); I-XII 3 (1907-1915~. Volume IV, Adonis, Attis, Osiris, was published separately: London 1906, 1907 . An abridged edition appeared in 1922 = New York 1950. Other revisions and abridged editions: Theodor Gaster, The New Golden Bough (New York 1959); M. Douglas and S. MacCormack, J. G. Frazer. The Illustrated Golden Bough:
22
CHAPTER ONE
praised as "perhaps the greatest scientific Odyssey in modern humanism" (Malinowski) and disparaged as "part of what every schoolboy knows, and what every gentleman must at least have forgotten" (Marett). In a book in which people were asked about their experiences with ecstasy (Ecstasy, London 1961), one person answered the question "What has induced ecstasy in you?" as follows: "Reading The Golden Bough for the first time". And this informant was not such a fool either, for he had also gone into ecstasies "finding ten chromosomes when I knew they ought to be there". So it must surely be a marvelous book. In the definitive version (there had been earlier, shorter editions) the first two volumes are called The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, and this title provides the code words: magic lay at the roots of religion, and the most important means with which primitive man tried to control nature and vegetation lay in magic-sacral kingship. Just as nature goes through an annual cycle of budding, flowering, bearing fruit, withering and dying, so each year the 'aged' king had to be supplanted by a new vigorous successor, for it is the king' s magic power that sympathetically influences and even controls vegetative life. Nature's death has to be overcome by a new, young king who defeats the old one in a ritual fight-or somehow supplants him. The King Must Die is the title of a best-seller by Mary Renault, a book one might read as a kind of romanticized 'Frazer abridged'. So much for rite. There is, however, also a mythical representation or transposition of the natural cycle, dealt with by Frazer in other parts of his series: Adonis, Attis, Osiris, published originally in 1906 A Study in Magic and Religion (London 1978). Biographical works: R. A. Downie, James George Frazer. The Portrait of a Scholar (London 1940); idem, Frazer and the Golden Bough (London 1970). They are all superseded now by R. Ackerman,}. G. Frazer: His Life and Work (Cambridge 1987) (highly praised by C. R. Phillips III, Classical Scholarship against its History, A}Ph 110 [ 1989]636-57, esp. 644-50, in an impressive plea for 'Wissenschaftsgeschichte' as an indispensable tool for 'sociology of knowledge'. His own contribution: The Sociology of Religious Knowledge in the Roman Empire, ANRW II, 16, 3, 2677-2773, is a model in this respect). Cf. also: Kardiner 1962, 78-109; Sharpe 1975, 87-94; Evans-Pritchard 1981, 2-52; R. Ackerman, in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 77-83. A comprehensive list of works on Frazer: Waardenburg 1974, 59-60. A critical account: M. J. C. Hodgart, In the Shadow of the Golden Bough, The Twentieth Century 97 (1955) 111-19; S. MacCormack, Magic and the Human Mind: A Reconsideration of Frazer's Golden Bough, Arethusa 17 (1984) 151-76; Auffarth 1991, 16 f.; R. Fraser, The Making of the 'Golden Bough'. The Origins and Growth of an Argument (London 1990). For more criticism see below section 4.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
23
as a separate volume; The Dying God, Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild (with thanks to Mannhardt) and Balder the Beautiful. A great many cultures, notably those of the Mediterranean world and the Near East, so Frazer contended, have their 'dying and rising gods'. They represent grain, green plants and trees. Their myths tell of menace, downfall, sojourn in the underworld and death, but also of resurrection. During the annual New Year festivities lamentations are heard bewailing the god who has died, but it is not long before they are replaced by hilarious joy: the god has risen or has manifested himself again, heralding a promise of new life. There thus emerges an almost ideal parallelism of myth and ritual, both reacting to or reflecting the vegetative cycle of nature: RITE
MYTH
Sacral year king guarantees fertility of nature; suffers ritual death;
Year god represents natural vegetative force; dies, is imprisoned in underworld; rises again, is reborn.
new, vigorous king succeeds.
This scheme is a fundamental one: it is invoked by all myth and ritual theories of the first phase. As a matter of fact, until a few decades ago the twentieth century remained 'in the shadow of the golden bough'. We shall concentrate, primarily, on two schools: the 'ritualist' Cambridge school, which in the area of classical studies applied itself above all to the Greek material, and the Myth and Ritual school proper, which centered on the pattern of the ancient Near East. Before dealing with these schools, however, we must focus on one specific figure, even though she herself, without any doubt, belongs to the former school. The reason for this preferential treatment will soon become evident.
1. Jane Ellen Harrison Robertson Smith and Frazer both taught in Cambridge. So didjane Ellen Harrison 16 . 'Bloody Jane' to friends, a 'blasphemous Ker' as 16 Autobiographical data in her books Reminiscenses of a Student's Life (London 1925), and Alpha and Omega. Essays (London 1915). Biographical information: J. G. Stewart,jane Ellen Harrison. A Portrait from Letters (London 1959); R. Ackerman, J. E. Harrison: The Early Work, GRBS 13 (1972) 209-30; McGinty 1978, 71-103; S. J. Peacock, Jane Harrison: The Mask and the Self (New Haven 1988), with the rather severe review by W. M. Calder III, Gnomon 63 ( 1991) 10-13; R. Schlesier, Jane
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CHAPTER ONE
she said herself17 , and the last maenad found running wild according to many others, she led an unorthodox life, which gave rise to many rumours, with such standard ingredients as libertinism in matters of sex and religion, more or less pronounced feminism, and hovering between the extremes of esthetic refinement on the one hand and the "beastly devices of the heathen" on the other. I note this for the sole reason that later criticism seems to have been inspired, at least partly, by the aversion aroused by these in themselves less relevant features of her life. Additional information about her may be gleaned, for instance, from her Reminiscences of a Student's Life (London 1925). From her best known and most important works, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion (1903) and Themis (1912) 18 she emerges as someone who boasts a vast knowledge of Greek, above all archaeological, material (archaeology had been her starting point), has an unmistakable tendency to follow and practise the most recent trends rather uncritically (she herself mentions-in chronological order-Frazer, Durkheim, Bergson and Freud) 19 , and who is criticized by Kirk 1971, 3, for being "utterly uncontrolled by anything resembling careful logic". When "her customary lack of consistency'' is referred to 20 , this may be taken, not Ellen Harrison, in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 127-41. Several contributions to Calder 1991, among which the most perceptive introduction to Harrison's intellectual position and achievement by Schlesier (Schlesier 1991, in a German version also in Kippenberg & Luchesi 1991, 193-235). See also the literature mentioned by P. G. Naiditch, in: Calder 1991, 124 n.2. 17 In a letter to G. Murra~, in: Stewart o.c. (preceding note) 113. 18 Prolegomena (1903, 1907 , 1922 3 ), reprinted by Meridian Books 1955 and Merlin Press (London 1961), recently also by La Haule Press. Themis: A Study in the Social Origins of Greek Religion (1912 1, 1927 2), reprinted by University Books (New York) together with Epilegomena (1962), and Merlin Press (London 1963). 19 In Epilegomena to the Study of Greek Religion (Cambridge 1921) p. XXII, she formulates her own scientific achievements thus: (1) Totem, Tabu and Exogamy, (2) Initiation Ceremony, (3) The Medicine-Man and King-God, (4) The Fertility-Play or Year Drama. This is precisely the reverse order of her Werdegang from Frazer via "the genius of Durkheim" (ibid. n.l) towards Freud. McGinty 1978, 79: "As a result, to read her oeuvre in chronological order is almost like reading a multivolume history of the discipline of comparative religion disguised as a series of histories of Greek religion", (and cf. ibid. 2 n.35). Cf. also Schlesier 1991, n.73. 20 McGinty 1978, 96. W. J. Verdenius, in his review of Epilegomena and Themis, Mnemosyne 4th ser. 16 (1963) 434: "Her principal weakness was the susceptibility which induced her to adopt the latest fashion in philosophy, psychology and ethnology''. And long before this G. van der Leeuw, who admired her, betrayed irritation when confronted with her volatility. See: J. N. Bremmer, Gerardus van der Leeuw and Jane Ellen Harrison, in: Kippenberg & Luchesi 1991, 237-41. For some more contemporaneous criticism see: Th. W. Africa in: Calder III 1991, 29 ff.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
25
unjustly, to sum up a virtually unanimous verdict. Still, I should like to show that at least part of the inconsistencies found in her studies may be caused, to a certain extent at any rate, by the unmanageable and intrinsically contradictory subject of her choice. In 1890, a year after the publication of Robertson Smith's major work and in the very year in which the first two-volume edition of Frazer's Golden Bough was published, Harrison's Mythology and Monuments ofAncient Athens appeared. In the introduction she says (p. III): "My belief is that in many, even the large majority of cases ritual practice misunderstood explains the elaboration of myth''. In the last analysis, even the most beautiful, the loveliest Greek myths derive from "always practical ritual". A quite telling phrase in an 1891 paper-"a solution I believe to be wholly novel"-shows that she expects to be the first to offer this solution 21 . Without doubt, she is being sincere in this respect. Frazer, who, as we have seen, had opted for the very same starting point, did not feel any forceful urge to put the presumed interrelation of myth and ritual on a solid theoretical basis, and Robertson Smith was publishing at practically the same time. It just so happened, as is often the case, that either direct or indirect mental contact gave rise, almost simultaneously, to related viewpoints. However, a glance in modern surveys and textbooks of anthropology and the history of religion will show that, in this broad perspective, the other two scholars have ousted Jane Harrison. I wish to show that, at least in the context of myth and ritual, Harrison deserves more credit than she was given and that in her works all the problems were touched upon that later authors dealt with in their way. In the Prolegomena Harrison still adheres to the view, quoted above, that myths were created in order to account for rites. In line with nineteenth century ideas, the gods were supposed to belong to the domain of myth. They arise as a kind of personification from
21 JHS 12 (1891) 350. Actually, this refers to her interpretation of the Kekropides myth, which she was the first to explain from the perspective of myth and ritual. J. N. Bremmer, o. c. (preceding note) 238, finds it hard to believe that Harrison had neither heard about Smith's lectures nor read his book before her own publication, but Schlesier 1991, 187 n.11, makes a good case for Harrison's ignorance. That Harrison was later on influenced indirecty by Smith via Durkheim (Bremmer ibidem) is a different matter (see next note). Burkert 1980, 174, has pointed out that previous initiatives in this direction had already been taken by K. 0. Muller and von Wilamowitz. On Harrison and Muller see: Schlesier 1991, 191 ff.
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rites, especially apotropaic ones, meant to protect crops and settlements. These daimones are products of an almost intellectual explanatory process, and in her Themis Harrison systematises these numerous demons into one prototypical, genuinely 'Frazerian' year god, denoting him, for the occasion, by a home-made Greek term as the eniautos daimon. In the same Themis, however, there is a sudden emphasis on the social component of the myth-making process: "Strong emotion collectively experienced begets this illusion of objective reality; each worshipper is conscious of something in his emotion not himself, stronger than himself. He does not know it is the force of collective suggestion, he calls it a god" (Themis, pp. 46-47). Dionysos, for instance, who was first a typically 'Frazerian' eniautos daimon, is now called "his thiasos incarnate" (p. 38). Here Durkheim has ousted Frazer22 . It is necessary to realize the implications of this step. In the Frazerian scheme, man is the manipulator: he believes he can control external processes by means of specific, above all magical methods, rites. Myth, then, is a kind of verbal account of these rituals. In the new interpretation, on the other hand, man is the one who is manipulated: however the ritual may relate to external data like fertility of the soil, what counts is what the participant himself experiences, his own emotion. The mythical images, therefore, are products, first and foremost, of spontaneous, collective emotions23 . I do not think it an exagger22 Humphreys 1978, 96, suggests that her attention was drawn to Durkheim by the lectures of Radcliffe-Brown, which she attended at Cambridge in 1909. Humphreys also gives a good assessment of Durkheim's work. See also: Harris 1968, 464-82; S. Lukes, Emile Durkheim. His Life and Work (1973 1, Harmondsworth 1975); Kardiner 1962, 108-33; Evans-Pritchard 1981, 153-69; Morris 1987, 106-40; F. Pearce, The Radical Durkheim (London 1989). The remarkable similarity appears inter alia from the following quotations from Durkheim, Les formes elimentaires de la vie religieuse (Paris 1912 1 , 1968 5 ) 597: "!'experience religieuse, c'est Ia societe"; 603: "Ia formation d'un ideal( ... ) c'est un produit nature! de Ia vie sociale"; 606: "Ia religion est un produit de causes sociales". On this aspect of Durkheim's theory see especially: R. N. Bellah, Religion, Collective Representations and Social Change, in: R. A. Nisbet (ed.), Emile Durkheim (Englewood Cliffs 1965) 166-72. On Durkheim's influence on Radcliffe-Brown see: A. Kuper 1985, 49 ff., with Harrison on p. 38. On the possible influence of Robertson Smith on Durkheim see: R. A. Jones, La genese du systeme? The Origins ofDurkheim's Sociology of Religion, in: Calder 1991, 97-121, and other works cited there. 23 Harrison herself recognized this evolution: "Primitive religion was not, as I had drifted into thinking, a tissue of errors leading to mistaken conduct; rather it was a web of practices emphasizing particular parts of life, issuing necessarily in
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
27
ation to maintain that the seeds of one of the great controversies in twentieth century approaches to ancient religions can be detected here. The two lines may be illustrated by comparing two types of approach: that of such scholars as Deubner, Nilsson and Latte, in which rites are studied primarily with regard to their external functions and aims, and in which there is hardly any room for myth, except as an aetiological explanation of the ritual acts; and the approach of a very disparate group of modern scholars, guided by Burkert and Vernant, on the other; here myth and rite are considered to be, in the first place, forms of expression which identify or integrate the cultural community itself. I shall come back to this subject. Just as the year king-god scheme represented Harrison's first approach, for which she had invented the term eniautos daimon, so her second approach can be exemplarily illustrated by a hymn from Palaikastro in Eastern Crete that had recently been discovered 24 . The inscription probably dates from the third century BC, but certain elements of the text indicate a much older period. In this hymn the Megistos Kouros, identified as the young Zeus, is invited to come to Mount Dikte, heading the daimones for this year, and "to spring into the wine vats, the herds, the crops, the cities, the ships, the young citizens and Themis". Here she is at last: Themis. Now, no true Frazerian would hesitate to recognize the year god in this Megistos Kouros, especially if one accepts the most recent interpretation by M. L. West of a corrupt fragment of the text which says, in his view, that the god first "has gone into the earth" 25 . Harrison, however, thinks otherwise. In her view, the hymn points to the mythical Kouretes 26 , who representations and ultimately dying out into abstract conceptions" (Themis p. XII). 24 M. Guarducci, I. Cret. III, II, 2. Cf. eadem, Antichita Cretesi, in: Studi in onore diD. Levi II (Catania 1974) 36 f.; eadem, Epigrafia Greca IV (Rome 1978) 128 f. 25 M. L. West, The Dictaean Hymn to the Kouros,JHS85 (1965) 149-59, proposed to replace Harrison's "Lord of all that is wet and gleaming, thou art come . .. " by an interpretation which results in: "master of all, who to earth art gone''. Later on he recanted his metrical suggestions, while maintaining his textual conjectures (ZPE 45 [ 1982] 9 ff. ). West's reading, which completely ignores Harrison's treatment of the text, seems very improbable to me and has, as far as I know, not provoked much enthusiasm. See: Guarducci o.c. (preceding note) and J. M. Bremer, Greek Hymns, in: Versnel 1981a, 205 f. Cf. also Motte 1970, 56-60. 26 There are also historical Kouretes: S. Luria, Kureten, Molpen, Aisymneten, AAntHung 11 (1963) .~1-6; D. Knibbe, Forschungen in Ephesos IX, Fasz. I, 1: Die Kureteninschriften (Osterr. Arch. In st. 1981 ).
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perform a war dance at the birth of the Cretan Zeus. As such, it reflects a social event of central importance in all primitive communities: the rites of initiation that turn boys into men, admitting them to the community of adult men. The elements of threat, torture and death that, as we will see below, often play a role in initiatory rites, can be recognized, she believes, in the myth of the Titans, by whom the Dionysos- Zagreus infant (closely related to Zeus Kretagenes) is torn to pieces. They are the mythical reflections of the elder members of the tribe, disguised as spirits of the deceased, who 'kill' the initiation candidate, reduced to the status of a baby, so that a new human being may arise. The Megistos Kouros that is invoked "is obviously but a reflection or impersonation of the body of Kouretes'' (p.27), who in their turn are mythical reflections of the human epheboi. In other words, the mythical characters "arise straight out of a social custom" (p.28) and this amounts to saying (p.29) that "The ritual act, what the Greeks called the dromenon, is prior to the divinity" (in other words: "is prior to myth"). That much we knew already, but now we are in for a surprise: in a related discussion a dozen pages earlier, Harrison maintained that investigation of the ritual is a primary condition in order to fathom the religious intention of a particular complex. She then continues: "This does not, however, imply, as is sometimes supposed, that ritual is prior to myth; they probably arose together. Ritual is the utterance of an emotion, a thing felt in action, myth in words or thoughts. They arise pari passu. The myth is not at first aetiological, it does not arise to give a reason; it is representative, another form of utterance, of expression" (p.16). When she returns to this relationship at greater length later on in the book (pp. 3 2 7 ff.), she describes myth as the words uttered by the participants in a ritual, originally probably no more than cries and interjections. In fact, this explains their simultaneous occurrence: "(myth) is the spoken correlative of the acted rite, the thing done; it is to legomenon as contrasted with or rather as related to to dromenon" (p.328). This may suffice to explain the irritation felt by many a reader used to more consistent reasoning; in particular, the parenthetical clause, "as is sometimes supposed," is a jewel. But this does not diminish the fact that she has outlined a novel and serious possibility: that of the simultaneous origin of myth and ritual in certain situations. And she even appears to introduce yet a third possibility when she writes: ''When we realize that the myth is the plot of the dromenon
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
29
we no longer wonder that the plot of a drama is called its 'myth'" (p. 331). Actually, the suggestion that myth can also function as the scenario of a (dramatic) ritual seems to be formulated here in nuce. It is difficult to say what exactly she meant by this expression, which was, as a matter of fact, exploited by a school of later scholars who indeed maintained that myth could be the scenario of dramatic action 27 . To sum up: in sometimes rudimentary form and with often dubious argumentation Harrison offered three suggestions on the mterrelation of myth and ritual. These are: 1. 2. 3.
myth arises from rite, myth and rite arise pari passu, myth is the scenario of a dramatic ritual.
Moreover, she tested these theoretical possibilities in two cases of a specific myth and ritual complex: A. the Frazerian complex of year king, year god and New Year festival, B. the initiation complex. We shall now see that for decades to come it was only types 1) and 3) of these theoretical possibilities that attracted any attention, and that in the initial phase interest was focused almost exclusively on A) the New Year myth and ritual complex. The remaining two suggestions, 2) and B), did not receive much credit or attention until very recently. As stated earlier, I shall structure my remarks according to the patterns of interrelation put forward by Harrison.
2. Myth arises from rite: the Cambridge school 28 Two genuine classical philologists, G. Murray and F.M. Cornford, each contributed a chapter to Themis. In his 'Excursus on the Ritual 27 In Themis, 331-4, she says that "the mythos is the plot which is the lifehistory of an Eniautos-daimon" and in Ancient Art and Ritual (London-New York 1913) ch. V: "From ritual to art: the dromenon and the drama" she elaborates upon this theme. But it is problematic whether we may call this "myth as the scenario for ritual" since she regards both the god (eniautos daimon) and the drama as having developed from one and the same annual rite. 28 On the Cambridge ritualists see now: Calder 1991; R. Ackerman, The Myth and Ritual School: J. G. Frazer and the Cambridge Ritualists (New York-London 1991 ); Doty 1986, 73-8. A complete bibliography: Sh. Arlen, The Cambridge Ritualists: An Annotated Bibliography (London 1990).
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Forms preserved in Greek Tragedy' (pp.341-63) Murray explains the rise of tragedy from a dancing ritual around the eniautos daimon Dionysos. In tragedy, Murray-adopting Harrison's schemesholds, the following underlying pattern may be discovered: 1) agon, a fight between the year god and his enemy; 2) pathos, the year god suffers sacrificial death; 3) messenger arrives, bringing word of the god's death; 4) threnos, lamentation; 5) anagnorisis, the killed god is recognized; 6) theophany, the god's resurrection and manifestation. The very next sentence in Murray's paper is: "First, however, there is a difficulty to clear away" (p.344), and that is precisely what the reader had already suspected. After all, we are always told that a tragedy that ends well is not a very good tragedy, and that this is the reason why the rare tragedies with happy endings run the risk of being assigned a place among the satyr plays. In order to solve his difficulty, Murray assumed that the positive final chords had become detached from the tragedy proper and ended up as a separate theme in the satyr plays. This is one of the first explicit invocations of the 'disintegration of the pattern', a stereotyped plea in the myth and ritual debate. In later works Murray repeatedly returned to the myth and ritual notion2 9 , for instance in the initial chapters of his popular Five Stages of Greek Religion30 . He also wrote the preface to Th. Gaster's com-
29 For Murray's scholarly achievements see: F. West, Gilbert Murray: A Biography (London 1984) and D. Wilson, Gilbert Murray OM 1866-1957 (Oxford 1988). A short impression: Lloyd-Jones 1982, 195-214. Cf. also: R. L. Fowler, in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 321-34; idem, in: Calder 1991, 79-95; P. G. Naiditch, ibid. 124 n.3. Murray returned to myth and ritual theories in other works: Euripides and his Age (New York 1913, Oxford 19462) 28-32; Aeschylus, the Creator of Tragedy (Oxford 1940) 145-60; cf. R. L. Fowler, in: Calder 1991, 90 n.25. Criticism in A. W. Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, Tragedy and Comedy (Oxford 1927) 185-206. In his reissue of this book (1962) 126-29, T. B. L. Webster gives a reassessment of Murray's achievement. For other theories on the origin of tragedy, see: H. Patzer, Die Anfonge der griechischen Tragodie (Wiesbaden 1962); G. F. Else, The Origin and Early Form of Greek Tragedy (Cambridge MA 1965). Recent theories on the ritual origins oftragedy: Burkert 1966a = 1990, 13-39; F. R. Adrados, Festival, Comedy and Tragedy. The Greek Origins of Theatre (Leiden 1975); idem, The Agon and the Origin of the Tragic Chorus, in: Serta Turyniana. Studies A. Turyn (Urbana 1974) 436-88; J.]. Winkler, The Ephebes' Song: Tragoidia and Polis, Representations 11 (1985) 26-62 = ]. ]. Winkler & F. I. Zeitlin (edd.), Nothing to Do with Dionysos? Athenian Drama in Its Social Context (Princeton Univ. Press 1990) 20-62. 30 Four Stages of Greek Religion originated as a series of lectures at Columbia University in 1912. It was revised and enlarged with an additional chapter as Five Stages of Greek Religion (London 1935, 1946 3).
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
31
prehensive book Thespis: Ritual, Myth and Drama in the Ancient Near East (1950), discussed below. Here at last a connection emerges between Greece and the ancient Near East, which had been exploited hardly or not at all in the Cambridge school since Frazer. It was F.M. Cornford who went farthest in this respect. In his The Origin ofAttic Comedy ( 1914) he held the rather surprising view that comedy, no less than tragedy, arose from a ritual New Year festival around the death and rebirth of the god. He had already adumbrated this theory in his contribution to Themis, in which he discussed the origin of the Olympic games: the winner in the contest, the Megistos Kouros of the year, is led in a wild komos, and celebrates a sacral marriage with the king's daughter. These, he held, are also the ingredients of comedy. In his later work, however, Cornford 31 extended his vision further: man evolves from the magical (Frazer) through the mythical (Frazer/Harrison) to the philosophical/rational stage, the stage to which Cornford in fact devoted the bulk of his studies. The contacts with the cultures of the Near East were specified by Cornford in a posthumous publication, The Unwritten Philosophy (1950), in which he linked motifs from Hesiod's Theogony with seasonal myths from the Near East, an initiative that has had a highly productive sequel in the last twenty years or so32 . This means that the Cambridge schooP 3 was eventually posthumously freed from a certain Greece-oriented position of isolation,
3! On Cornford see: D. K. Wood, in: Briggs & Calder 1990, 23-36; M. Chambers, in: Calder 1991, 61-77; the rich bibliographical note by P. G. Naiditch, ibid. 125 n. 4. Remarkably, the leading French structuralist in the classical field, J.-P. Vernant, highly appreciates the works ofCornford, whereas his mentor Louis Gernet, a pupil of Durkheim, had little or no appreciation for the works of Harrison and Cornford. Cf. also Loraux 1981, 35-73, and below n.88. On Gernet see: S. Humphreys, The Work of Louis Gernet, in Humphreys 1978, 76-106; A. Maffi, Le 'Recherches' di Louis Gernet nella storia del diritto greco, QS (1981) 3-54; C. Ampolo, Fra religione e societa, StudStor 25 (1984) 83-9; R. di Donato, Une oeuvre, un itineraire, in: L. Gernet, Les Crees sans miracle (Paris 1983) 403-20. 32 H. Otten, Vorderasiatische Mythen als Vorliiufer griechischer Mythenbildung, FuF (1949) 145-7; A. Heubeck, Mythologische Vorstellungen des alten Orients im archaischen Griechentum, Gymnasium 62 ( 1955) 508-20; G. Steiner, Der Sukzessionsmythos in Hesiods Theogonie und ihren orientalischen Parallelen (Diss. Hamburg 1958); P. Walcot, Hesiod and the Near East (Cardiff 1966); M. L. West, Early Greek Philosoph)' and the Orient (Oxford 1971); Kirk 1971, 2-20; Burkert 1979 and 1984. 33 I leave aside A. B. Cook with his massive monograph Zeus I-III (Cambridge 1914-1942). He is perhaps the most typical disciple of Frazer, but he did not contribute to myth and ritual theory. On this scholar see: H. Schwab! in: Calder 1991, 227-49.
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partly under the influence of another Myth and Ritual school which-in similar isolation-directed attention to the Near East. I now turn to this other school. 3. Myth as a scenario for dramatic ritual: the 'Myth and Ritual School' proper In 1933 the Old Testament scholarS. H. Hooke edited a volume of studies to which many scholars contributed: Myth and Ritual: Essays on the Myth and Ritual of the Hebrews in Relation to the Culture Pattern of the Ancient East, and 25 years later he edited another volume titled Myth, Ritual and Kingship (1958), in which both opponents and supporters had their say-an ideal state of affairs for later historians 34 . It was this school of myth and ritual theorists that gave this complex its characteristic name and content35 . The titles of these books are programmatic, pointing as they do to cultures of the ancient Near East, including the Israelite one, and the theme is the interrelation of myth and ritual in a context in which kingship plays an important role 36 . The thesis is that in these areas there existed an 34 His earlier collection The Labyrinth (London 1935) has no bearing on the new ideas. Hooke's try-out was: The Babylonian New Year Festival,joumal of the Manchester Egyptological and Oriental Society 13 (1927) 29-38. The most convenient introduction to his ideas is his Middle Eastern Mythology (Harmondsworth 1963). On the scholar Hooke see: E. C. Graham, Nothing is Here for Tears. A Memoir of S. H. Hooke (Oxford 1969). 3 5 Several studies have been devoted to the 'Myth and Ritual School'. In Myth, Ritual and Kingship (Oxford 1958), Hooke gives a historical survey ofthis approach, which he refuses to call a 'school'. There is also a critical essay by S. G. F. Brandon in the same collection. Cf. also: J. Weingreen, The Pattern Theory in Old Testament Studies, Hermathena 108 (1969) 5-13; E. O.James, Myth and Ritual in the Ancient Near East (London 1958); Versnel1970, 201-35; J. W. Rogerson, Myth in Old Testament Interpretation (Berlin 1973) 66-84 and literature below nn. 75 ff. Recently Auffarth 1991, 38-118, presented a reconsideration of the main issues of the Myth and Ritual school. 36 So recently: Auffarth 1991, who holds that the festivals marking the turn of the year should not be seen as an annual recreation of the natural world (in the sense of Eliade's 'eternal return', which he rejects) but rather as periods in which people experience and dramatize the catastrophes that would occur if the gods were not there to protect order and prosperity. Now, these gods (more often the God) might decide to surrender the nation to chaos if the king, guarantor of justice, would fail to do his duty. Thus, according to Auffarth, the festivals in discussion, which are all marked by signals of reversal (for this aspect see below and chapter II) have their focus in the legitimation and evaluation of kingship, rather than in issues of fertility or cyclical re-creation. It is impossible to discuss this rich and provocative book in any detail here. But as it deals with two major issues of the present chapter it may serve clarity if I just mention in general terms where I agree and where I do not. Of the two major characteristics marking these festivals of transition in the Ancient
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
33
endemic, widespread 'cult pattern'. What did this pattern look like and how was the idea conceived? It all began with the Babylonian New Year festival, the so-called Akitu festival 37 . All the gods, headed by Marduk, come to Babylon to celebrate the New Year in ceremonies that include a sacred marriage. The king is subjected to a curious ritual: the insignia of his dignity, his scepter, ring and crown are taken from him and laid down in front of Marduk's statue. The king kneels down and the priest pulls one of his ears; the king professes his innocence and is given the promise that his kingship will prosper. The insignia are returned to him and he is struck by the priest, which makes the king cry. From other sources we learn that the king then rides through the city in a kind of triumphal procession, together with Marduk. That is, in itself, already more than enough for a Frazerian scheme, as Frazer himself had not failed to notice 38 . Here we seem to have a variant of the ancient regicide, toned down into abdication, humiliation, and re-investiture. So much for the rite. As for the myth, the Enuma Elish, the Creation Epic, was recited during these New Year festivals. It told how Marduk (originally, of course, an older, in fact Sumerian, god) led the gods to war against Tiamat, the chaos monster of the primeval flood; how he defeated Tiamat's Near East: 'royal ideology' and 'reversal', A. takes kingship as the kernel. If we restrict ourselves to the Ancient Near East this will not raise much protest. But looking at other cultures and watching A.'s attempts to demonstrate the same emphasis for instance in Greek festivals, problems loom up. The Kronia-not having any visible relationship with kingship (see the next chapter)-are left out of the discussion and the Anthesteria resorted to, where the (scarce) royal elements have to support a heavy ideological construction. It soon appears, as will be amply shown in the present book, that the basic common denominator of such festivals of the turning of the year is an, often carnivalesque, demonstration of the stagnation of any official form of power, both political and social-involving a temporary anomia with social reversal-including (where it exists) kingship. This does not detract at all from the great value of A.'s analyses of the royal elements in the Near Eastern festivals, where he in fact can and does follow a long series of predecessors, and where I generally agree with him. But it does mean that it is unnecessary (and may be even damaging) to search for royal interpretations at all costs and play down other characteristic elements such as references to fertility or, especially, references to 'recreational' aspects. A.'s rejection ofEiiade's 'eternal return' seems to have been very much inspired by his own point of departure. See my remarks below p.120 n.102. 37 This festival figures in all myth and ritual studies. There is a very circumstantial treatment by S. A. Pallis, The Babylonian Akitu Festival (Copenhagen 1926). See now: Auffarth 1991, 45-55. 38 In two volumes of the Golden Bough (see above n. 15): The Dying God, 111; The Scape Goat, 354 ff.
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forces, sliced her in two and fashioned heaven and earth from the two pieces. What we have here, then, is a case of perfect parallelism: the rite performed by the king is a reflection, in human terms, of what happened to the god in primordial mythical times, 'in illo tempore'39. Creation of the cosmos after a victory gained over chaos corresponds to the regeneration of kingship after a period of chaotic anarchy during the king's absence, a correspondence confirmed by the mention of the king's sacred marriage 40 . For the correspondence to be perfect, the myth would have to contain the element of the god's downfall, too, as is fitting for a 'dying and rising' god and as is told, for instance, of other Near Eastern gods (notably Tammuz). Did Marduk, too, perish first? In the Enuma Elish this is not the case, but on a sorely damaged tablet from the sixth century BC 41 it is recorded that Marduk is imprisoned, beaten and wounded: "People are looking in the streets for Marduk. Where is he held captive? ( ... ) The Enuma Elish they sing in Nisan is about him who is in prison ... ". This, then, would complete the myth and ritual pattern, the 'cult pattern': RITE Crisis situation between old and new, King is dethroned and humiliated, King is reinstated, Triumphal pageant, Sacred marriage.
MYTH Threat by primeval chaos in the shape of a monster, Marduk taken prisoner, Marduk gains victory, becomes king, Triumphal pageant, Sacred marriage (celebrated on New Year's day).
Numerous scholars, especially in Britain and Scandinavia, (for instance, C.J. Gadd, E.O.James, A.R.Johnson, K.I.A. Engnell and 39 According to the famous expression coined by M. Eliade. He has certain connections with the myth and ritualists, for instance in Eliade 1949, chapter II, and 19642 , 335 ff. 40 E. D. van Buren, The Sacred Marriage in Early Times in Mesopotamia, Orientalia 13 ( 1944) 2 ff.; S. N. Kramer, The Sumerian Sacred Marriage Texts, PAPhS 107 (1963) 485 ff.; W. H. Ph. Romer, Sumerische 'Konigshymnen' der /sin Zeit (Diss. Utrecht 1965). Cf. for more literature Auffarth 1991, 52 n. 22, who does not see any relationship with fertility in this rite. 41 There are ample commentaries by H. Zimmern, Zum babylonischen Neujahrsfest, Ber. Sachs. Ges. Wiss. 70 (1918); F. Thureau-Dangin, Rituels accadiens (Paris 1921) 127 ff. S. H. Langdon, The Epic of Creation (Oxford 1923) 20 ff. provided another edition under the title 'The Death and Resurrection of Bel-Marduk'. Cf. Auffarth 1991, 51, with more recent literature in n.18.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
35
G. Widengren) have tried to discover this New Year complex in other Near Eastern cultures as well 42 . According to Hooke and others, the theory is not to blame for the unavoidable problems that arise. In many cultures, only the mythic component has been preserved; everywhere we have to allow for disintegration of the pattern due to migration, retouching or theological intervention43 . As for Israel, one could already hark back to the fundamental studies by S. Mowinckel, who had recognized in some psalms mythic-ritual texts accompanying the king's enthronement as Yahweh's representative44. As stated earlier, this myth and ritual school had hardly any contact with the earlier Cambridge school 45 . Frazer, who was honoured by the Cambridge group 46 , is virtually ignored by Hooke and his followers. One sometimes gets the impression that they feel embarrassed when reminded of the unmistakably Frazerian aspect of their cult pattern. Hooke even strongly opposes Frazer's "nonhistorical method of the purely comparative approach'', and this leads to several other characteristic differences between Hooke and Harrison, to single out these two scholars. As Harrison saw it, in the last analysis everything had started with magic and had developed gradually47 . Hooke, on the other hand, was not interested in the magical origins of sacral kingship, if any. Whereas Frazer and Harrison held that all over the world rite and myth developed in com-
42 Most enthusiastically by K. I. A. Engnell, Studies in Divine Kingship in the Ancient Near East (Uppsala 1943) and G. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum im A/ten Testament und imjudentum (Stuttgart 1955). 43 This is the most conventional-and convenient-escape for desperate defenders of a pattern, exploited by Murray as well as by the 'Out-and-out myth and ritualists' (see below). 44 S. Mowinckel, Psalmenstudien I-IV (1922-24), II: Das Thronsbesteigungsjestjahwiihs und der Ursprung der Eschatologie. See Auffahrt 1991, 65-76, with recent literature 66 n.7. 45 S. A. Hooke gave one of his books, Alpha and Omega. A Study in the Pattern of Revelation (Welyn 1961), the same title as the one Jane Harrison had chosen for one of her books. In the collections, however, there is hardly any reference to the Cambridge school. 46 Frazer later distanced himself from the Cambridge movement, as is evident from his correspondence with Marett, in which he also belittles the influence of Robertson Smith. See: R. Ackerman, Frazer on Myth and Ritual,JH136 (1975) 115-34, and his book (1991) cited above n.28. 47 McGinty 1978, 79: "Harrison depended so heavily on evolutionism that, the general theory of evolution of primitive religion having been overturned, her analysis has lost most if not all of its cogency.''
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parable ways through spontaneous evolution, Hooke adopted a diffusionist view. He thus betrayed his own origin, the Pan-Egyptian diffusionism advocated by G. Elliot Smith and W. J. Perry and the Pan-Babylonian version defended by A. Jeremias and others 48 • There are further differences, such as the stronger emphasis on kingship, which is understandable against the background of the culture of the ancient Near East. By far the most significant one, however, is the fact that in the relation of myth and rite the order is reversed, or at least given a reversed bias. Whereas the Cambridge ritualists in general, in spite of variants, believed in the rise of myth from rite, the new Orientalist myth and ritual theorists shifted the emphasis. Hooke did not exactly exclude this sequence, but he side-stepped the question of origin. Taking a synchronic viewpoint, he regarded royal ritual as a dramatic representation of the mythical scenario. In his first volume of papers he writes: "In general the spoken part of a ritual consists of a description of what is being done, it is the story which the ritual enacts. This is the sense in which the term 'myth' is used in our discussion. The original Myth, inseparable in the first instance from its ritual, embodies in more or less symbolic fashion, the original situation which is seasonally reenacted in the ritual" (p.3). The passage is not free from ambiguity49 , but it does give a clear indication of what the author does and does not accept. It is at any rate the shortest statement of this myth and ritual approach and as such a direct heritage from the Pan-Babylonian J eremias 51 ,
5°
48 G. Elliot Smith, The Ancient Egyptians and the Origins of Civilisation (London 1911, 1923 2); Human History (London 1930); W. J. Perry, The Children of the Sun: A Study in the Early History of Civilization (London 1923); The Growth of Civilization (London 1924). See: A.J. Toynbee, A Study of History I (London 1955) 424-46. The strongly astral emphasis in these positions may be considered a late offshoot of Max Muller's astral mythology. On astral mythology in Old Testament and related studies: J. W. Rogerson o.c. (above n.35) 45-84. 49 To quote from another collection, The Siege Perilous (London 1956) 43: '' ... the ritual myth which is magical in character, and inseparable from the ritual ( ... ) is older than the aetiological myth which has no magical potency ... ''. 50 That this order does indeed occur can be documented by the coronation ritual of the Japanese emperor, in which what happened in illo tempore is imitated in a ritual form: M. Waida, Conceptions of State and Kingship in Early Japan, ZRGG 28 (1976) 97-112. Eliade has unequivocally opted for this view of the relationship between myth and ritual. A. E. Jensen, Mythos und Kult bei Naturvolkern (Wiesbaden 1951), translated as Myth and Cult among Primitive Peoples (Chicago 1963), gives precedence to myth as well. However, his definition of myth is so broad that it practically covers the concept 'content of belief. 51 A. Jeremias, Handbuch der altorientalischen Geisteskultur (Leipzig 19292 ) 171.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
37
who wrote in 1929 that '' alles irdische Sein und Geschehen einem himmlischen Sein und Geschehen entspricht'' (''everything that exists and happens on earth reflects something that exists and happens in heaven'') and that the earthly king is an'' Abbild des himmlischen Konigs" ("an image of the heavenly king"). Thus the flock of the faithful need not worry: whatever was said of Him, God came first and had always done so. Those who preferred to think that He Himself might have arisen from some earlier social ritual were always welcome in libertine Cambridge.
3.
THE FUSES BLOW: OUT AND OUT MYTH AND RITUAL THEORISTs 52
In one of her later works, with the appropriate title Epilegomena to the Study of Greek Religion (1921 ), Jane Harrison threatened to prove that the well-known legend of Don juan had arisen from a fertility ritual (p. xlii n. 1). Murray had already preceded her by applying the myth and ritual scheme to Shakespeare's works 53 . It was to be expected-why should diffusion be confined to the Near East? Why would evolution obtain only in Greece? Patet mundus. One of the contributors to another volume of essays edited by Hooke, The Labyrinth (1935) was A. M. Hocart. The final sentence of his paper54 , which also concludes the book, is: "Thus we have gone round the world in search of the true myth, the myth that is bound up with life. We have found it in India, beneath the Southern Cross, in the plains of North America. We have come to find it at our doors". We would not be wrong to think of Hocart as the founder of what we might call "out and out myth and ritualism". In an earlier work, Kingship (1927), he had already discovered a coronation ritual that had spread all over the world, starting from Mesopotamia. It was based completely on the New Year scheme but consisted of a much greater number of elements, twenty-six in fact, which are consequently His 'catechism' Die Panbabylonisten, der alte Orient und die Aegyptische Religion (Leipzig 1907) is still worth reading. 52 A survey of the themes discussed in this section minus the anthropological data is given by Hyman 1974. 53 Hamlet and Orestes. The Annual Shakespeare Lecture before the British Academy (1914). 54 This contribution is incorporated in the collection edited by A. M. Hocart, The Life-giving Myth and Other Essays (London 1952, 19702). A bibliography and assessment: R. Needham, A Bibliography of Arthur Maurice Hocart (Oxford 1967) and Man 4 (1969) 292. His most influential books are Kingship (London 1927) and Kings and Councelors (Cairo 1936, Chicago 1970 2).
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arranged from a to z. This opened the floodgates. Lord Raglan, in a book that became very popular, The Hero: A Study in Tradition, Myth and Drama (1936) 55 , maintained that all myths in the whole world, without exception, were based on a single primordial rite, sacral regicide, and had their origin in Mesopotamia. And soon Guy Fawkes, William Tell, Robin Hood and Thomas a Becket came to follow suit 56 . It all looks like a serious application of the witty argument by one of his students who proved irrefutably that G. Murray himself must be a dying and rising god. Jane Harrison, by contrast, is cautious for once in her pious wish: "It would be convenient if the use of the word myth could be confined to such sequences, such stories as are involved in rites" (Themis, p.331). S. E. Hyman 57 , a forceful advocate of the myth and ritual theory and admirer of Harrison's Themis, "the most revolutionary book of the 20th century" 58 , not only asserted that myth was always concomitant with rite, "like a child's patter as he plays", but also showed that Darwin's evolutionary theories followed the myth and ritual pattern 59 : the 'struggle for life' is the agon, the 'survival of the fittest' the theophany of Murray's tragic scheme. The wildest excesses, however, were due to Murray's namesake, the well-known Margaret Murray60 , with her theories 55 The book was reprinted in New York-London 1979. For a short survey of his ideas see Raglan 1974. Raglan was a faithful disciple ofHocart. In the introduction to The Life-giving Myth (p. XIII) he writes: ''Since none of these rites and customs can reasonably be supposed to arise naturally in the human mind, their distribution must be due to historical causes.'' Diffusionism is hard to kill as witness for instance N. S. Josephson, Greek Linguistic Elements in the Polynesian Languages (Heidelberg 1989). 56 On Becket and Guy Fawkes see: Fontenrose 1966, 14 ff. 57 Leaping for Goodly Themis, New Leader 45 ( 1962), 25 f. (cited by Fontenrose 1966, 26). Other works by Hyman: The Armed Vision (New York 1948); Myth, Ritual and Nonsense, Kenyon Rev. 11 (1949) 455-75; and Hyman 1974. 58 In a review ofFontenrose, Python, in: Carleton Miscellany 1 (1960) 124-7 (cited by Fontenrose 1966, 26). 59 The Tangled Bank: Darwin, Marx, Frazer and Freud as Imaginative Writers (New York 1962). 60 M. A. Murray, The Witch-Cult in Western Europe (Oxford 1921, many reprints); The God of the Witches (London 1933 = Oxford 1981 ). For a short account of Murray, her followers and her critics see: K. Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic (Harmondsworth 1973) 614 ff. Some recent, though quite different, theories on the relationship between witches and pagan myth and ritual: H. P. Duerr, Dreamtime: Concerning the Boundary between Wilderness and Civilization (Oxford 1985); C. Ginzburg, I Benandanti: Stregoneria e culti agrari Ira Cinquecento e Seicento (Turin 1966); idem, Storia notturna. Una decifrazione del sabba (Turin 1989). Especially the latter books are fascinating and innovative.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
39
about witches as later priestesses of ancient pagan rituals. She manages to demonstrate that ''at least in every reign from William the Conqueror to James I the sacrifice of the incarnate God was consummated either in the person of the king or in that of his substitute"61. To be frank, I prefer the explicitly romanticised fictions of Robert Graves, Shirley Jackson (Hyman's wife), and J. B. Vickery 62 , who introduced the theme in literature. When I first became acquainted with myth and ritual theory more than twenty years ago, I had not the faintest notion that I would ever call Gaster's comprehensive work Thespis (above p.31) a moderate book. This study gives a concise survey of what is known about the 'Seasonal Pattern' of the Near East and discusses the related Canaanite, Hittite and Egyptian myths, with a few excursions into Greek drama and English mummery play. After our voyage across the seething waters of so much wilder seas, I am inclined to consider this book as a relatively calm and clear fairway and to recommend it-as a first introduction to a limited part of the myth and ritual approach-to those interested readers who are firmly resolved not to take the author's word for everything he claims 63 . As far as myth and ritual theory in anthropological literature is concerned, a few remarks will suffice, from which it may become clear that some anthropologists have not wholly unjustly been included in the present section. Here we should especially mention B. Malinowski 64 , who found his source of inspiration in Frazer and 6! M.A. Murray, The Divine King in England (London 1954). For an assessment of these and similar theories see: E. Rose, A Razor for a Goat (Toronto 1962). 62 Robert Graves, The White Goddess (New York 1958); S. Jackson, in: The Lottery (I owe this information to Burkert 1980, 181 f.); J. B. Vickery, The Scapegoat (New York 1972), 238-45. Cf. Jessie L. Weston, From Ritual to Romance (Cambridge 1920), which book had a great influence. More data in: Hyman 1974. 63 Theodor Gaster is perhaps the last true Frazerian. Next to the abridged Golden Bough (above n.15), he also edited Myth, Legend and Custom in the Old Testament. A Comparative Study with Chapters from Sir James Frazer's 'Folklore in the Old Testament' I, II (1969, New York-London 1975 2). 64 His most famous book, Argonauts of the Western Pacific (London 1922, New York 1961 2) contained a preface by Frazer. See on this work: M. W. Young (ed. ), The Ethnography of Malinowski: The Trobriand Islands 1915-1918 (London 1979). On Malinowski's place in anthropology: R. Firth ( ed. ), Man and Culture. An Evaluation of the Work of Bronislaw Malinowski (London 1957); Kardiner 1962, 160-86; Harris 1968, 547-67; Waardenburg 1974, 169-72; M. Panoff, BronislawMalinowski(Paris 1972); S. Silverman (ed. ), Totems and Preachers: Perspectives on the History ofAnthropology (New York 1980); Kuper 1985, 1-35. On his influence on the study of myth: I. Strenski (ed.), Malinowski and the Work of Myth (Princeton UP 1992).
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Robertson Smith and also quoted Harrison approvingly. A practising anthropologist himself, he gave a definition of myth as, above all, 'charter', an explanation providing legitimation and foundation of customs, rules, moral codes and rites: ''There is no important magic, no ceremony, no ritual without belief; and the belief is spun out into accounts of concrete precedent. The union is very intimate, for myth is not only looked upon as a commentary or additional information, but is a warrant, a charter, and often even a practical guide to the activities with which it is connected' ' 65 . This is one of the monolithic theories of myth attacked by Kirk and others. In this respect Malinowski still betrays the influence of his mentors, without being a genuine myth and ritual theorist: other phenomena besides rites also find their legitimation in myths, and he later speaks of "myth as a dramatic development of dogma" 66 , thus following a different course. Nevertheless, it is remarkable to see how other anthropologists venture very far-reaching statements about the interrelation of myth and rite. Kluckhohn 1942, 58, claims that we cannot speak of priority in the relation between myth and ritual: "The myth is a system of word symbols, whereas ritual is a system of object and act symbols. Both are symbolic processes for dealing with the same type of situation in the same affective mode''. That is why they are interdependent, and the task they have in common is to "reduce the anticipation of disaster'' (p. 69). E. Leach puts it in an even less equivocal way: "myth, in my terminology, is the counterpart of ritual: myth implies ritual, ritual implies myth, they are one and the same" 67 . Such statements can be explained if we think of the functionalist 65 Magic, Science and Religion and Other Essays (Glencoe 1948) 85. 'Explanation' this time not in the intellectualist sense used by Tylor and Frazer. 66 The essay under this name appeared in: Sex, Culture and Myth (London 1963). 67 E. R. Leach, The Political Systems of Highland Burma (London 1954) 13. Although Kluckhohn, contrary to the tendency of functionalism, paid due attention to the needs of the individual and Leach, later on, dissociated himself from functionalism and embraced structuralism, in this case the functionalist background is clear. This has been convincingly shown by Penner 1968, 51: ''they share one basic assumption. This is the assumption that myths and rituals are to be explained by reference to their function for the solidarity or unity of society and the psyche''. In this context he refers to Harrison, Hooke, Gaster, Malinowski, Kluckhohn, Spiro and Leach. His criticsm of this functionalistic approach, which often confuses goal with effect, is refreshing. Kluckhohn's views on the function of myth and ritual as presented in the text is largely adopted by Burkert (see below) and for instance also by Auffahrt 1991, 32-5, where he attractively concludes: "Ein wichtiger Gesichtspunkt ist, dass der Untergang gerade nicht Realitat wird, es beiSpiel mit einer suspendierten Realitiit bleibt". See also below ch. II.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
41
perspective from which these anthropologists operated. Others put more emphasis on myth and ritual as symbolic means of giving sense, form and definition to the social universe within which man functions as a social being. In Natural Symbols Mary Douglas maintains that "Ritual is the institutionalized rhetoric of symbolic order' ' 68 , an absolute condition for the idenfication of the group and the integration of the individual in the group. Substitute 'myth' for 'ritual' in this statement and the truth value remains the same 69 . Many objections have been raised against the generalizing and totalizing claims of the statements quoted above 70 . In anthropological circles the discussion is still in full swing, offering many scholars ample opportunity to prove their skills in matters of jargon, analysis and polemics. Let us hasten back to our own limited territory, where, for that matter, we shall meet with the very same discussion. 4.
CRITICISM
There is a story that Bertrand Russell once proposed to get Jane Harrison a bull on condition that she and her lady friends would demonstrate how maenads managed to tear such a beast to pieces with their bare hands. Russell, the logician, simply could not believe that the unaided human hand was capable of such an act. His proposal is a mild form of criticism, but matters could be different,
68 Douglas 1973. The phrase quoted is by an anonymous reviewer in TLS (1970) 535. Segal1980, 181, rightly points out the difference between Douglas and her predecessors: "The real difference between Douglas and her antagonists is that she concentrates on the meaning, not the effect, of ritual, if not myth. For Harrison and Hooke, Durkheim, Malinowski and Radcliffe-Brown, the meaning of myth and ritual is secondary. Its effect, on either society or the individual, is primary. The meaning is at most a means to that effect. For Douglas the reverse is true." 69 Cf. Leach o.c (above n.67) 15: "ritual action and belief alike to be understood as forms of symbolic statement about social order''. Very interesting on the neurobiological origins of the connections between myth and ritual: E. G. d 'Aquili, Ch. D. Laughlin] r, J. McManus, The Spectrum of Ritual. A Biogenetic Structural A narysis (New York 1979), who write for instance on p. 160: "In this regard is the function of myth to supply a solution to the problem raised at the conceptual level and the function of concomitant ritual to supply a solution at the level of action". 70 In addition to the works mentioned in n.1 I mention: H. Baumann, Mythos in ethnologischer Sicht I, II, Studium Generate 12 (1959) 1-17 and 583-97; P.S. Cohen, Theories of Myth, Man 4 (1969) 337-53; J. A. Saliba, Myth and Religious Man in Contemporary Anthropology, Missiology 1 (1973) 282-93.
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as witness the judgment of the Plato specialist P. Shorey 71 : "Professor Murray has done much harm by helping to substitute in the minds of an entire generation for Arnold's andjebb's conception of the serene rationality of the classics the corybantic Hellenism of Miss Harrison and Isadora Duncan and Susan Glaspell and Mr. Stark Young's 'Good Friday and Classical Professors', the higher vaudeville Hellenism of Mr. Vachel Lindsay, the anthropological Hellenism of Sir James Frazer, the irrational, semi-sentimental, Polynesian, free-verse and sex-freedom Hellenism of all the gushful geysers of' rapturous rubbish' about the Greek spirit''. That is how real classical scholars judged the Cambridge school, and Dodds, therefore, with his irrational Greeks was not always taken seriously either. Indeed, Cambridge was in such bad odour that M. I. Finley1 2 , the best-known ancient historian there, saw fit to point out en passant that he wrote his World of Odysseus before he ever set foot in Cambridge, and Kirk his Myth after he left his Cambridge post for Yale. Both books were said to exude a Cambridge odour. Murray, by the way, was an "unregenerate Oxford Australian". From all this one can perhaps imagine the emotional responses the other myth and ritual school elicited in contemporary orthodox clerical circles. Robertson Smith had already had to listen to this 73 : ''His mind is like a shop with a big cellar behind it, and having good shelves and windows ( ... ). But he doesn't grow his own wool, nor does he spin the thread, nor weave the webs that are in his cellar or on his shelves. All his goods come in paper parcels from Germany''. Behind all this is the aversion to ethnological comparativism, especially if this refuses to stop short at Genesis 1: 1. And Robertson Smith did not stop. A notorious 'Robertson Smith case' resulted, partly in reaction to his blasphemous conviction that Moses could never have written the entire Pentateuch. This led to his dismissal from the chair of Old Testament studies of Free Church College in Aberdeen in 1881. Two years later he moved to Cambridge, where he came to hold a chair of Arabic. I have not heard about any early retirement among later myth 71 P. Shorey, in Saturday Review of Literature 4 (1928) 608, as quoted by Cl. Kluckhohn, Anthropology and the Classics (Providence 1961) 20. 72 M. I. Finley, Anthropology and the Classics (The jane Harrison Memorial Lecture 1972), also in: Finley 1975, 105, where I also found the preceding quotation. 73 J. S. Black and G. Chrystal, The Life of William Robertson Smith (London 1912) 401.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
43
and ritual theorists, but the accusation of having "recklessly imposed their pattern" on Israelite religion 74 is only a mild version of what has also been voiced in stronger terms. This kind of emotional criticism is highly interesting from the point of view of cultural history, but it does not allow of any reasonable discussion. In this respect it is radically different from other forms of critical approach. For example, the building blocks of a theory can be tested for hardness: the tablet on which Marduk's downfall is described may be interpreted as Assyrian war propaganda against the hostile supreme deity 75 ; the hymn of the Kouretes itself hardly contains any reference to initiation elements; in many ways it seems rather to refer to the New Year complex 76 ; in tragedy there are simply no traces of Murray's theophany and resurrection. Or we can tackle the pillars of the building: P. Lambrechts 77 was the first to aver that some alleged dying and rising gods, such as Attis or Adonis, did die in the myth but did not disertis verbis rise again.
74 Thus H. Frankfort, The Problem of Similarity in Ancient Near Eastern Religions (Frazer Lecture 1951) 8, an important criticism. 75 W. von Soden, Gibt es ein Zeugnis dafiir class die Babylonier an die Wiederaufstehung Marduks geglaubt haben?, ZA NF 17 ( 1955) 130-66; cf. Auffarth 1991, 50 f. Very sceptical also: J. Z. Smith, A pearl of Great Price and a Cargo of Yams: A Study in Situational Incongruity, History of Religions 16 (1976) 1-19, reprinted in revised form in Smith 1982, 90-101. He argues that the New Year complex was the product of Hellenistic apocalyptic ideas. Cf. idem, 1978, 72-4, and, Dying and Rising Gods, in: M. Eliade (ed.), The Encyclopedia of Religion 4 (1987) 520-7, ignoring the work by Italian scholars mentioned in the following notes. J. A. Black once more explored the whole Akitu complex: The New Year Ceremonies in Ancient Babylon: 'Taking Bel by the Hand' and a Cultic Picnic, Religion 11 (1981) 39-59. Although he rejects the idea of a dying and rising god, he accepts a parallelism between the enthronement rites of Marduk and those of the king. Cf. also: Z. BenBarak, The Coronation Ceremony in Ancient Mesopotamia, Orientalia Lovan. Period. 11 (1980) 55-67, with new evidence. See A. Livingstone, Mystical and Mythological Explanatory Works of Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars (Oxford 1986) 156-8 for the political significance of the combat between Marduk and Tiamat. Auffarth 1991, 49, 60 n.13, mentions the possibility that the Epic of Creation after all is not as old as is usually assumed and may have been created in praise of Marduk as the royal god of Babylon. 76 See: West o.c. (above n.25) and Fontenrose 1966. 77 Lambrechts, Les fetes 'phrygiennes' de Cybele et d'Attis, BIBR 27 (1952) 141-70; La 'resurrection' d'Adonis, in: Melanges I. Uvy (Bruxelles 1955) 207-40. Cf. more recently: D. M. Cosi, Salvatore e salvezza nei misteri di Attis, Aevum 50 (1976) 42-71; U. Bianchi, Adonis: Attualita di una interpretazione 'religionsgeschichtlich', and P. Xella, Adonis oggi: Un bilanco critico, both in: Adonis. Relazioni del colloquio in Roma 1981 (Rome 1984); S. Ribichini, Salvezza ed escatologia nella vicenda di Adonis? in: Bianchi & Vermaseren 1982, 633-47.
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A similar statement was made about Tammuz by other scholars 78 , and it has been suggested that a christological perspective imposed a pattern upon the gods of the Near East, only half of which has actually been attested. Moreover, it has been pointed out that for Greece we do not know anything about either sacral kingship or coherent complexes of myth and ritual 79 . Even the actual existence of sacral regicide, so often recorded in anthropological literature, has been questioned. Informants too often refer to former times: "We ourselves do not practise this any more, but our grandparents still chopped up a king" 80 . We might consider introducing a category 78 E. M. Yamauchi, Tammuz and the Bible, JBL 84 (1965) 283-90. C. H. Ratschow, Heilbringer und sterbende Gotter, in: Antike und Universalgeschichte. Festschrift H. Stier(1972) 398 ff., argues that the act of dying itself is the symbol of salvation. See also: C. H. Talbert, The Myth of a Descending and Ascending Redeemer in Mediterranean Antiquity, NTS 22 (1976) 418-40. There is a reassessment of the problems in: S. Ribichini, Adonis. Aspetti 'orientali' di un mito greco (Rome 1981) 181-97. Very explicit on the emphasis on death: Th. Podella, Som-Fasten. Kollektive Trauer urn den verborgenen Gott im A/ten Testament (Neukirchen-Vluyn 1989) 35-7. An entirely different position has been taken by Burkert 1979, 99 ff.; 129 ff. and cf. idem, Literarische Texte und Funktionaler Mythos: Zu Istar und Atrahasis, in: J. Assman, W. Burkert, F. Stolz, Funktionen und Leistungen des Mythos. Drei altorientalische Beispiele (Gottingen 1982) 63-82. 79 H. J. Rose, Myth and Ritual in Classical Civilisation, Mnemosyne 3 (1950) 281-7; M. P. Nilsson, Cults, Myths, Oracles, and Politics in Ancient Greece (New York 1951) 10-12. On the supposed cohesion of myth and ritual M. Eliade, Antaios 9 (1968) 329, says "class wir nicht einen einzigen griechischen Mythos in seinem rituellen Zusammenhang kennen". Cf. S. G. Pembroke, Myth, in: M. I. Finley (ed. ), The Legacy of Greece. A New Appraisal (Oxford 1981) 301 ff.: "A one-to-one correspondence between myth and ritual is not to be found in Greece.'' For a similar discussion on sacral kingship and the myth and ritual theory in the Israelite context: N. Snaith, The jewish New Year Festival: Its Origins and Developments (London 1947); H. Frankfort, Kingship and the Gods (Chicago 1948); J. de Fraine, L'aspect religieux de Ia royaute israelite (Rome 1954); A. R. Johnson, Sacral Kingship in Ancient Israel (Cardiff 1955); K. H. Bernhardt, Das Problem der altorientalischen Konigsideologie im A. T. (Leiden 1961); J. Eaton, Festal Drama in Deuteroisaiah (London 1979). 80 Thus for instance Fontenrose 1966, 8 ff., but see my remarks in the following note. Moreover, he utterly fails to recognize the importance of what I would call 'mythic ritual'. A short discussion of the implications of this phenomenon in: J. van Baal, Offering, Sacrifice, and Gift, Numen 23 (1976) 161-78, esp. 176-77; idem, Dema: Description and Analysis of Marindanim Culture (The Hague 1966) 540 f. The question of whether the rituals as related in literature were ever actually performed becomes pressing when we have to evaluate the well-known charges against Christians and other sects. See: Henrichs 1972; idem, Pagan Ritual and the Alleged Crimes of the Early Christians, in: Kyriakon. Festschrift]. Quasten I (Munster 1970) 18-35; idem 1981. Cf. W. Schiifke, Friihchristlicher Widerstand, in: ANRWII, 23, 1 (1979) esp. 579-96; R. M. Grant, Charges of 'Immorality' against Various Religious Groups in Antiquity, in: R. v.d. Broek and M. J. Vermaseren (edd.), Studies in Gnosticism and Hellenistic Religions presented to G. Quispel (Leiden 1981) 161-70. Cf. for medieval and early modern Europe for instance the long list of 'cannibals'
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
45
'mythic ritual' to describe this very frequent and highly interesting phenomenon. Anyone who wants a survey of such instances of specific and detailed criticism should consult J. Fontenrose81 , who stated categorically as early as 1959 in his book Python: A Study of Delphic Myth and its Origins (pp.461-2): "The rituals did not enact the myth, the myth did not receive its plot from the rituals", and who, responding to the criticism from the myth and ritual quarter, devoted a book to The Ritual Theory ofMyth ( 1966). The annoying thing is that this form of criticism, however useful and even necessary it may be, will never tip the scales. Of course, Raglan, Hyman and Margaret Murray spoke the language of the initiated, which does not require a book to defend or to attack it. There is no convincing the initiated: they see a great light in which all the pieces can be fitted into the big jigsaw puzzle. As for the non-initiated, they thought it all nonsense anyway. And in any case, even detailed criticism among reasonable people usually has only marginal effects. Even if it is conceded that the tablet recording Marduk's imprisonment has another background among Western European sectarians in: N. Cohn, Europe's Inner Demons (St. Albans 1976) 16 ff., and R. Po-chia Hsia, The Myth of Ritual Murder. Jews and Magic in Reformation Germany (London 1988). For a different approach see: J. Winkler o. c. (below n.144 ). There is a remarkable variant in the early Rabbinical laws which provided detailed prescriptions of rituals without ever assuming that they would be performed in actual reality. Here a system of ideas is expressed not in a mythical but in a ritual literary form. "The ritual is myth": J. Neusner, Ritual without myth: the Use of Legal Materials for the Study of Religions, Religion 5 (1975) 91-100. 81 However, Fontenrose does not exactly excel in anthropological knowledge. There is an abundance of evidence on sacral kingship, which clearly proves that ritual regicide is (or was) a common feature in not a few African cultures. I only mention here: T. Irrstam, The King ofGanda: Studies in the Institution of Sacral Kingship in Africa (1944, repr. 1981 ); P. Hadfield, Traits ofDivine Kingship in Africa (New York 1949, repr. 1979); L. Mair, African Kingdoms (Oxford 1977); M. W. Young, The Divine Kingship of thejukun: A Re-evaluation of some Theories, Africa 36 (1966) 5-53. Recently, African sacral kingship, including the issue of regicide, has drawn much attention: A. Adler, La mort est le masque du roi. La royaute sacrie des Moundang du Tchad (Paris 1979); L. De Heusch, The Drunken king, or the Origin of the State (Bloomington 1982); idem, Rois nes d'un coeur de vache (Paris 1982); idem, Sacrifice in Africa. A Structural Approach (Manchester 1985); G. Feeley-Harnik, Issues in Divine Kingship, Annual Review of Anthropology 14 (1985) 273-3; J.-C. Muller, Le roi bouc imissaire: Pouvoir et rituel chez les Rukuba du Nigeria central (Quebec 1980). The discussion on the meaning of regicide has received a fresh impulse by the provocative theories of Rene Girard. See: Simon Simonse, De slaperigheid van Koning Fadyet. Regicide en het zondebokmechanisme in de Nilotische Soedan, in: W. van Beek (ed.), Mimese en geweld. Beschouwingen over het werk van Rene Girard (Kampen 1988) 172-208. Cf. also the balanced discussion of the pitfalls of terminology by Price 1983, 235-9, and the discussions by Burkert, Girard and Smith in: Hammerton-Kelly 1987.
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-itself an arguable point-there is still a mass of data left. It is thus essential to ask how many data we need before we feel justified in speaking of a pattern, and that is where opinions differ widely. Refuting theories in a genuinely scientific way is only possible when these theories claim to have general validity. As the Dutch essayist Karel van het Reve says82 , popularizing Popper: if a scientific theory claims that all redheads are alcoholics, we can refute this proposition by pointing to one redhead who is not an alcoholic-and whoever came up with that general proposition simply has to hold his tongue henceforth. This neatly sums up Kirk's approach in his works mentioned above 83 . In The Nature of Greek Myths he proves that the five monolithic theories of the origin and essence of myththeories claiming to possess general and exclusive validity-are untenable because we can always find some myth that does not fulfill the conditions stipulated. As regards the interpretation of myth and ritual, he reasons as follows: if an interrelation could be proved, it would not provide the one and only explanation for the rise of myths, for we know many myths that cannot possibly have any ritual connection, such as myths which explain why it is that a snake has no feet and walks on his belly. And in so far as there really are demonstrable relations between ritual and myth, their nature varies widely. There are instances in which the myth arises from the ritual or is invented for the occasion as an aetiological explanation-the types we have dealt with for the most part so far. Then there are forms in which myth and ritual arose independently but were compounded-for instance, again, as an explanation of the rite-. And there are a few myths that generate a ritual. Certain dramatic actions in the mysteries imitate the myth of Demeter and Kore, which in its turn may have been based on an older rite. And it may also happen-but such cases are extremely rare-that ritual and myth arise simultaneously as parallel responses to some critical situation, in Kluckhohn's words: "to reduce the anticipation of disaster''. 82
117.
K. van het Reve, Een dag uit het Leven van de reuzenkoeskoes (Amsterdam 19802)
83 Kirk 1971, 1-31; 1974, 223-53; idem, Aetiology, Ritual, Charter: Three Equivocal Terms in the Study of Myths, YClS 22 (1972) 83-102. His sceptical approach has, in its turn, provoked critical reactions: TLS 14-8-1970, 889-91 (the anonymous author was the same as the one of New York Review of Books, 28-1-1971, 44-5, namely E. Leach); J. Culler, Yale Review 60 (1970) 108-14; J. Conradie, The Literary Nature of Greek Myths: A Critical Discussion of G. S. Kirk's Views, AClass 13 (1977) 49 ff. A balanced account: R. Ackerman,]H/ 34 (1973) 147-53. A structuralist view: C. Calame, QUCC 14 (1972) 117-35.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
47
We can hardly accept this as the last word on this matter. As I said, Kirk's skeptical approach has already provoked serious criticism. Was not the baby thrown out with the bathwater? Moreover, granted that the redhead is not an alcoholic now, does that imply that he has never been one before? Perhaps he was forced in some way to leave the bottle alone? Or, being an alcoholic at heart, did he switch to drugs as a substitute? Is his red hair natural? Or could it be that all redheads were indeed originally alcoholics, but that migration and acculturation have led to the disintegration of their way of life? It is time for a very brief conclusion. Frazer is a fallen giant: that is the communis opinio nowadays. ''There have been no answers because there were no questions", says one of his wittiests critics, J .z. Smith84, thus paraphrasing Gertrude Stein as well as Frazer himself, who in the introduction to the third edition of The Golden Bough writes: ''It is the fate of theories to be wasted away ( ... ) and I am not so presumptuous as to expect or to desire for mine an exemption from the common lot. I hold them all very lightly, and have used them chiefly as convenient pegs on which to hang my collection of facts'' -which we might call the understatement of the century. However, the giant who once wrote in a poetical, visionary vein: "The dreamland world of fancy. There is my own true home ... " 85 , remains a colossus, albeit a fallen one. Evolution of religion from magic is an outdated notion by now. Nor should we, as many epigones used to do, maintain the myth and ritual complex connected with the year king and the year god as a scheme for anything and everything, outside of which there is no salvation. Setting aside, however, such notions as original regicide, we cannot very well deny that in many cultures the time around the New Year is experienced as a period of transition, of crisis or of threat. The old must be 'finished off, the new joyfully hailed; in between there is no man's land. This notion is often represented ritually through signals of anarchy, lawlessness, anomia, and mythically as the menace of the chaos from which the cosmos must be created. Mircea Eliade, for one, has given an excellent sketch of all this and we shall discuss various instances in the present book. Let us leave it at that for the moment. 84 J. Z. Smith, When the Bough breaks, in: idem 1978, 208-39, who dismantles the enormous structure of The Golden Bough piece by piece. Other important criticism: Fontenrose 1966; E. R. Leach, The Golden Bough or Gilded Twig, Daedalus 90 (1961). 85 In his poem 'June in Cambridge'.
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A farewell, equally, to the monolithic explanation of myth as a stereotyped companion to rite. On the other hand, there are certain links, such as Jane Harrison's types 1 and 3, which we have dealt with86 . That one variant-very rare, according to Kirk-in which myth and rite emerge pari passu (Harrison, type 2) we have only mentioned so far. Like the specific second myth and ritual complex, the initiation scheme (Harrison, type B), this variant has not come into the limelight until recently87 . A name is associated with this combination of initiation and myth and ritual in a new key: Walter Burkert.
5.
INITIATION: A MODERN COMPLEX
Harrison's Themis, though valued more highly by the writer herself, was generally much less appreciated than her Prolegomena88 . There 86 Of course, there is room for numerous refinements to the various kinds of relationship between myth and ritual. D. Richard, Tolerance and Intolerance of Ambiguity in Northern Tai Myth and Ritual, Ethnology (1974) 1-24, demonstrates that ritual may function in a conservative fashion while myth may be tolerant towards modern ideas. 87 Of course, there are exceptions. A typical Einzelgiinger like Walter Otto makes the "Zusammenfall von Kultus und Mythos" the central doctrine of his most celebrated book Dionysos. Mythos und Kultus (Frankfurt 1933). This founder of (another) 'Frankfurter' school eschewed any contact with anthropological theory or comparativist trends in the history of religions and by no means borrowed his ideas from jane Harrison. See: W. F. Otto, Das Wort der Antike (Darmstadt 1962) 383-86 (bibliography); McGinty 1978, 141-80; A. Henrichs, Der Glaube der Hellenen: Religionsgeschichte als Glaubensbekenntnis und Kulturkritik, in: W. M. Calder III, H. Flashar, Th. Lindken (edd.), Wilamowitz nach 50jahren (Darmstadt 1985); H. Cancik, Die Giitter Griechenlands 1929: Walter Otto als Religionswissenschaftler und Theologe amEnde der Weimarer Republik, AU 27, 4 (1984) 71-89; idem, Dionysos 1933: W. F. Otto, ein Religionswissenschaftler und Theologe am Ende der Weimarer Republik, in: R. Faber & R. Schlesier (edd.), Die Restauration der Cotter (Wurzburg 1986) 105-23; cf. also Auffarth 1991, 120 n.4. 88 Harrison's own opinion: Arion 4 (1965) 399. Nilsson GGR I, 11, 64, was very reserved. For criticism from the side of the school of Durkheim see: M. David, L 'annie sociologique 12 (1909-12) 254-60. Earlier, there had been more positive sounds: ibid. 8 (1903-4) 270-6. Cf. also A. Reinach, RHR 69 (1914) 323-71. In the background one feels the more general Durkheimian reservations regarding ethnological approaches (i.e. Van Gennep): F. A. lsambert, At the Frontier of Folklore and Sociology: Hubert, Hertz and Czarnowski, Founders of a Sociology of Folk Religion, in: Ph. Besnard ( ed. ), The Durkheimians and the Founding of French Sociology (Cambridge-Paris 1983) 152-76; cf. n.31 above. See generally: G. Murray, Jane Harrison Memorial Lecture 1928, reprinted in: Epilegomena and Themis (above n.18) 559 ff.: "I think there was also, in conservative or orthodox circles, rather more dislike of Themis as a 'dangerous book' than there had been of the Prolegomena". Murray, in his turn, was reproached ofbeing "etwas zu entgegenkommend gegen-
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
49
is no need to ask why. The strongly utilitarian and ritualistic approach to the ancient religions in particular might, at a pinch, swallow an occasional eniautos daimon-the term is even found once in Nilsson's handbook, and Nilsson was surely not one of Harrison's admirers 89 -but could not sympathize with apparently 'aimless' myth and ritual complexes in which the much sought-after element of fertility was not paramount. It might appear surprising at first sight that Themis was not enthusiastically received in Durkheim's circles either, which took offence-not unfairly-at the erratic, associative and intuitive nature of the book. Durkheim' s maxim that as soon as a psychological explanation is suggested somewhere you may be sure that it is a wrong one proved to be ominous in this context. What we can see now is that as the New Year myth and ritual complex came under ever more violent critical fire, attention switched to the initiation complex: the initiant arose from the dying god's ashes. Before the sixties H. Jeanmaire's Couroi et Couretes ( 1939, reprinted 1978) was the only major study in the classical field in which the initiation scheme was applied to Greek myths and rites in a consistent manner, to which we might add G. Dumezil, Le probleme des centaures: Etude de mythologie comparee indo-europienne ( 1929). The proviso in the classicalfield is important, however, for outside that domain, notably in the Germanic and Old Persian contexts, numerous studies were devoted to Miinnerbunde, Jungmannschaften and Geheimbunde, which were generally recognized as historical reflections of groups of youths in the initiation phase 90 . However, contacts beiiber manchen ldeenjane Harrisons": 0. Weinreich in his review of Five Stages of Greek Religion, Philo!. Wochenschr. 46 (1926) 643 f. = Ausgewiihlte Schrijten II, 205-6. The same critic wrote in his review of Them is: ''Wenn so gar ein Gelehrter von ganz anderer Richtung wie C. Robert in Oidipus einen 'Jahresgott' gefunden hat ( ... ) dann ist das ihrer Theorie vom eniautos daimon zuzuschreiben. Ob sie in diesem Faile stimmt, ist aber eine andere Frage, Ausgewiihlte Schriften II, 368. 89 Ironically, the term met with an outspoken distaste in her own circles: "I hate 'daemons' of all sorts, and 'year-daemons' worse than any", wrote Cook in a letter to Murray of23 august 1923 (as quoted by R. Ackerman, in: Calder 1991, 15), but, then, Cook had never reached the rank of epoptes in Harrison's teletai. 90 A selection ofliterature on Miinnerbiinde: H. Schurtz, Altersklassen und Miinnerbiinde(Berlin 1902); L. Weniger, Feralis Exercitus, AR W9 (1906) 201-47; 10 (1907) 61-81; 229-56; L. Weiser, Altgermanische Jiinglingsweihen und Miinnerbiinde (Biihl 1927); H. Webster, Primitive Secret Societies. A Study in Early Politics and Religion (New York 1908; 1932 2); 0. Endter, Die Sage vom wilden Jiiger und von der wilden Jagd (Diss. Frankfurt 1933); 0. Hofler, Kultische Geheimbiinde der Germanen I (Frankfurt 1934); G. Widengren, Hochgottglaube im alten Iran (Uppsala 1938); S. Wikander, Der arische Miinnerbund (Diss. Lund 1938); J. Przylusky, Les confreries de loups-garrous
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tween these studies and those dealing with the Graeco-Roman field,-in which A. Alfoldi is the most prominent figure-were not made until very recently. Any attempt to ascertain which scholar might have given the initial impulse to the renewed interest in the initiation pattern is bound to be arbitrary. No doubt A. Brelich may be credited with having encouraged the interest in this subject in the sixties, with such studies as Le iniziazioni I, II (1960-61), which remained rather obscure, and above all with Paides e Parthenoi I (1969), which was already in manuscript in 1960 (volume II was never published). In an extensive introduction Brelich presents an anthropological typology of initiation customs, which he then applies to Greek situations. It was precisely in this period that anthropological interest in initiatory rites was given a new incentive 91 . Eliade's Birth and Rebirth (1958; reprinted as Rites and Symbols of Initiation, 1975) has done much to make the typical characteristics of initiation more widely known. In the same decade of youthful elan and students' protests P. Vidaldans les societes indo-europeennes, RHR 121 (1940) 128-43; W. E. Peuckert, Geheimkulte (Heidelberg 1951 ); J. de Vries, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte (Berlin 1956 2) I, 454-5; G. Widengren, Der Feudalismus im allen Iran (Koln 1969); G. Dumezil, The Destiny of the Warrior (Chicago 1970); 0. Hofler, Verwandlungskulte, Volkssagen und Mythen (Osterr. Ak. Wiss. Phil-Hist. Kl. Sitz. Ber. 279, Vienna 1973); AlfOldi 1974, esp. 107-50; H.-P. Hasenfratz, Der indogermanische 'Miinnerbund', ZRGG 34 (1982) 148-63, in the wake of Hofler; Bremmer 1982; idem 1987b, 38-43. 91 The amount ofliterature on initiation is overwhelming. Besides the works of Van Gennep, Brelich and Eliade mentioned in the text, I single out: M. Zeller, Knabenweihen (Diss. Bern 1923); A. E. Jensen, Beschneidung und Reifezeremonien bei den Naturvolkern (Stuttgart 1933); J. Haeckel, J ugendweihe und Miinnerfest auf Feuerland, Mitteilungen der Oesterreichischen Gesellschaft fur Anthropologie 43-4 7 ( 194 7) 84-114; V. Popp ( ed. ), Initiation. Zeremonien der Statusiinderung und des Rollenwechsels (Frankfurt 1969);]. L. Brain, Sex, Incest, and Death: Initiation Rites Reconsidered, Current Anthropology 18 (1977) 191-208; A. Droogers, The Dangerous journey: Symbolic Aspects of Boy's Initiation among the Wagenia of Kisangani (Zai"re) (The Hague 1980); U. Bianchi (ed. ), Transition Rites: Cosmic, Social and Individual Order (Rome 1986); J. S. La Fontaine, Initiation (Manchester 1986). F. Sierksma, Religie, Sexualiteit en Agressie (Groningen 1979) 260 ff. has a rich bibliography. A recent summary of the main aspects: Auffarth 1991, 424-40. A general sociological approach of status passage: B. G. Glaser & A. L. Strauss, Status Passage (Chicago 1971). For a particularly interesting methodological approach to the application of classification and definition in the study of ritual, especially initiation, see: J. A. M. Snoek, Initiations (Diss. Leiden 1987). Cf. also: J. P. Schojdt, Initiation and the Classification of Rituals, Temenos 22 (1986) 93-108. For the ancient world, Y. Dacosta, Initiations et societis secretes dans l'antiquite grico-romaine (Paris 1991) summarizes the main results of earlier discussions. For girl's initiation see below.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
51
N aquet published 'Le chasseur noir et 1' origine de 1' ephebie athenienne' 92, a study in which he maintained that it was not only the Spartan but also the Athenian youths that were subjected to initiation rites of a strongly archaic type well into historical times. 1. From Harrison to Burkert
Initiation was again in the air, and when I now select W. Burkert as a starting point, this is not in the first place because he may be regarded as the most innovative and authoritative scholar of Greek religion of our times93 , but, first, because a few younger specialists owe their inspiration primarily to Burkert, and, secondly, because, in my view, it was Burkert, more than anyone else, who placed the initiation complex in the context of the myth and ritual approach. His Weisheit und Wissenschaft: Studien zu Pythagoras, Philolaus und Platon (1962) 94 had already drawn attention to initiation symptoms, but a basic application was presented in 'Krekopidensage und Arrhephoria' ( 1966b), an ideal case of myth and ritual. The rite prescribes that each year the Arrhephoroi, two girls between seven and eleven years old, are to be secluded on the Acropolis, where they have to weave the peplos for Athene. They are assigned the task of taking an object, the nature of which must remain unknown to them, to Aphrodite's garden through an underground passage, and returning with an equally invisible object, wrapped in cloths. The myth tells of two of the daughters ofKekrops, Athens' most ancient king, Aglauros and Herse, to whom the goddess Athena gave a kiste which they were forbidden to open. However, they disobeyed and what they discovered inside-( one or) two snakes and the Erichthonios child-frightened them so much that they threw themselves down from the Acropolis. The myth ends half-way-the tragic low 92 Annates ESC 23 (1968) 947-64, reprinted in idem 1981, 151-74. English version in PCPS 194 (1968) 49-64. Reconsiderations and answers to critics in: The Black Hunter Revisited, PCPS 212 ( 1986) 126-44; in revised form: Retour au chasseur noir, in: Melanges Pierre Leveque II (Paris 1989) 387-411. 93 See on W. Burkert and the significance of his work: L. J. Alderink, Greek Ritual and Mythology: The Work of Walter Burkert, Religious Studies Review 6 (1980) 1-14; Burkert iiber Burkert, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung 3 aug. 1988, 29 f.; An Interview with Walter Burkert, Favonius 2 (1988) 41-52. The most important review of his handbook I have seen is the one by B. Gladigow in: GGA 235 (1983) 1-16. 94 English edition: Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism (Cambridge Mass. 1972).
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point-whereas the rite ends in a positive way with the girls' return. The cost in terms of girls would have been prohibitive anywayrespectable girls, too, for they came from upper-class circles. Apart from that, there is splendid parallelism along the lines of a scheme that has been exploited everywhere as a narrative pattern in myths or tales of 'the girl's tragedy' 95 : prohibition-seclusion-violation of the prohibition-girl threatened with punishment or deathliberation. As a rule, the subject is a virgin, who is enjoined to remain a virgin (prohibition), is locked in for that purpose (seclusion), becomes pregnant in spite of that (violation of prohibition), is threatened with death by a wicked father or relative, but is saved, ultimately, by her son or another male relative. This, however, as had long been recognized 96 , is the typical pattern of the girl's initiation, which is supposed to turn the girl at puberty into a young woman. In this process two components-apart from all kinds of symbols of leavetaking and new beginning, which in the much better known initiation rites for boys have often been elaborated more fully-play 9 5 On this scheme: Burkert 1979, 14 ff. = 1990, 40-59. The scheme was already detected by J. G. von Hahn, Sagwissenschaftliche Studien Qena 1876); see: Bremmer 1987b, 26, who gives a survey of the classical instances of the 'mother's tragedy' on p. 27 ff. He disputes Burkert's interpretation of this motif as a reflection of girls' initiation on the ground that in some cases the mother of the hero is already married. One may grant him this point but the enigma of the origin of the motif is not solved. For his solution: "Apparently, great heroes come into being during periods of intense crisis and transition in their mother's lives and they become the more extraordinary thanks to their mother's hardships" (p.30), though obviously true, fails to do justice to the stereotyped nature of the mother's particular hardships. We shall see below that Burkert later changed his frame of interpretation. On the myth of the bad father see also the literature in AlfOldi 1974, 104 n.147; D. Briquel, in: Bloch 1976, 73-97. On a specific aspect of female imprisonment: R. Seaford, Imprisonment of Women in Greek Tragedy, JHS 110 (1990) 76-90. For the Arrhephoria as an initiatory rite see also: Brule 1988. 96 This was not the first time that the Arrhephoria were explained as a relic of initiation ritual: Jeanmaire 1939, 264 ff.; Brelich 1961, II, 123-6; cf. idem 1969, 231-8. Recently, several authors have remarked that the rites represent a preparatory stage rather than being real initiatons in view of the age of the girls: Calame 1977, 237-9; Zeitlin 1982, 151. Brule 1987, 98fT. regards the Arrhephoria among other things as an ordeal of virginity in the last year before menarche. I can neither entirely grasp nor, as far as I can grasp them, accept the recent views ofN. Robertson, The Riddle of the Arrhephoria at Athens, HSCP 87 ( 1983) 241-88, any more than I can fathom other myth and ritual interpretations by this author, such as: The Origin of the Panathenaea, RhM 128 (1985) 231-95; The Ritual Background of the Dying God in Cyprus and Syro-Palestine, HThR 75 (1982) 3-59; Melanthus, Codrus, Neleus, Caucon: Ritual Myth as Athenian History, GRBS 29 (1988) 201-61.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
53
an important role: during the period of seclusion the girl has to learn to demonstrate the truly womanly skills-the 'work-complex' in the words of a specialist97 -and her female sexuality will have to be unsealed. Many frightening means are available for this purpose, such as painful circumcision, mass deflorations, sexual humiliations, and so forth 98 . F. Sierksma's book De roof van het vrouwengeheim (The Theft of the Female Secret, 1962), which deals with this subject among others, was renamed Religie, sexualiteit en agressie (Religion, Sexuality, and Repression)-and justly so-when it was reprinted in an academic edition ( 1979)99 . This is the explanation Burkert gave for the secret in the kiste which the girls were not allowed to know and yet had to discover: we have here the symbols of woman's 9 7 H. E. Driver, Girl's Puberty Rites in Western North America, University of California Publications. Anthropological Records 6 (1941-2) 21-90: esp. 61. 98 Besides the works of Brelich, Eliade, Jeanmaire and Burkert, there is a vast literature on girl's initiations and their possible relics in women's festivals. See for instance: A. Winterstein, Die Pubertiitsriten der Miidchen mit deren Spuren in Miirchen, Imago 14 (1928) 199-274; R. Briffault, "The Mothers": A Study of the Origins of Sentiments and Institution II (London 1952) 187-208; R. Merkel bach, Sappho und ihr Kreis, Philologus 101 (1957) 1-29; J. Gage, Matronalia (Bruxelles 1963) passim; J. K. Brown, A Cross-cultural Study of Female Initiation Rites, American Anthropologist 65 (1963) 837-53; J. Stag!, Die Frauensuque und ihre Stellung zu den anderen Melanesischen Geheimbiinden, Wiener VOlkerkundliche Mitteilungen 14/5 (1967-8) 69-104; B. Lincoln, The Religious Significance ofWomen's Scarification among the Tiv, Africa 45 (1973) 316-26; J. Prytzjohansen, The Thesmophoria as a Women's Festival, Temenos 11 (1975) 78-87; G. E. Skov, The Priestess of Demeter and Kore and her Role in the Initiation of Women at the Haloa at Eleusis, Temenos 11 (1975) 6-47; D. Visca, Le iniziazioni femminili: un problema de reconsiderare, Religione e Civilta 2 (1976) 241-74; N.J. Girardot, Initiation and Meaning in the Tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, American Journal of Folklore 90 (1977) 274-300; C. Calame (ed.), Rito epoesia orale in Grecia (Rome 1977); Calame 1977; B. Lincoln, Women's Initiation among the Navaho: Myth, Rite and Meaning, Paideuma 23 (1977) 255-63; Graf 1978; B. Lincoln, The Rape of Persephone: A Greek Scenario of Women's Initiation, HThR 72 (1979) 223-35; B. Lincoln, Emerging from the Chrysalis. Studies in Rituals of Women's Initiation (Cambridge Mass. 1981); J. N. Bremmer, Greek Maenadism Reconsidered, ZPE 55 (1984) 267-86; Brule 1987; Dowden 1988. On the Arkteia at Brauron P. Perlman, Acting the SheBear for Artemis, Arethusa 22 (1989) 111-33, provides a full bibliography, together with a curious interpretation of her own: "'Acting as the she-bear' the maiden arktoi entered these hiding places where they like the hibernating she-bear were transformed, at least ritually, from maiden to mother"; Chr. Sourvinou-Inwood, Studies in Girl's Transitions. Aspects of the Arkteia and Age Representation in Attic Iconography (Athens 1988). For more recent literature on the Arkteia see below p.329 n.131. On the differences between girl's and boy's initiation: S. G. Cole, The Social Function of Rituals ofMaturation: The Koureion and the Arkteia, ZPE 55 ( 1984) 233-44. 99 In this book there is also a very extensive bibliography on initiation. Cf. also B. Bettelheim, Symbolic Wounds. Puberty Rites and the Envious Male (London 1955).
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fertility, notably the child, which may also be recognized in the object, swaddled in cloths, that is returned after the girls' stay in Aphrodite's garden. All this started long ago with the research into the better-known boys' initiation. For her theory Harrison could consult Les rites de passage (1909) by A. van Gennep 100 , the first to make a systematic study of rites of transition. The distinction he makes between rites de separation, rites de marge' and rites d agrigation, through which the youth took leave of the old situation, remained in seclusion for some time, and entered his new status, respectively, is still exemplary. Later anthropologists have added many typical features to the ones gathered by Van Gennep, the marginal period having increasingly become the center of interest. It is not always easy to distinguish the three constituent elements clearly; they tend to merge smoothly. Frequent examples of the elements are: the boy gives up his childhood by withdrawing from his mother, giving up his old name, banishing his origin from his memory, leaving the old status behind by amputation oflimbs, having a tooth knocked out, etc. As a member of the male community he is accepted as a new human being. He is often actually rebornthe mother sometimes being allowed to reappear only once before being consigned to permanent absence-, is given a new name, and receives the dignities and insignia of a full-grown man. In between these two situations his existence as a social being has been suspended. Everywhere the marginal period is felt to be a period of threat, chaos and death. The symbol of the labyrinth is often staged literally, as the boy is led around in the labyrinth in the dark or blindfolded, loses his orientation and identity and has to be aided to escape, the labyrinth being seen as the realm of death but also as the womb: 'birth and rebirth'. During this time the young boy is in exile, locked in an initiation house or expelled from the tribe into the marginal J
100 Translated as: The Rites of Passage (London 1960). Bibliography of Van Gennep in: Waardenburg 1974, 85-9; K. van Gennep, Bibliographie des oeuvres d'Arnold van Gennep (Paris 1964). A scholarly biography: N. Belmont, Arnold van Gennep, le createur de l 'ethnographic franfaise (Paris 19 74), translated as: Arnold van Gennep, Creator of French Ethnography (Chicago 1979); H. A. Senn, Arnold van Gennep: Structuralist and Apologist for the Study of Folklore in France, Folklore 85 (1974) 229-43; R. di Donato, Une oeuvre, un itineraire. In: L. Gernet, Les Crees sans miracle (Paris 1983) 403-20; the studies collected in Studi Storici 25 (1984) 5 ff. On Harrison and Van Gennep see: Schlesier 1991, n.117.
MYTH AND RITUAL, OLD AND NEW
55
territories where culture and society are no longer valid and other laws prevail. This is-as in the case of the girls-the time of tests and trials: torture, (sexual) humiliation, trials of strength, matches, the struggle to survive outside the tribal community. It is also the time of instruction: threatened by death-a great god or a monster is coming to devour them, to tear them to pieces or to roast them, after which they will be restored to life as new human beings-they are taught the secret myths of the tribe, the ritual customs and the use of men's weapons. This nonsocial, marginal situation is marked or 'signaled' by a great variety of external features. Virtually all such marginal signals reflect some opposition to normal social features 101 . In matters of dress, role reversal is often obligatory, boys having to wear girls' clothes, or we find status reversal, clothes being used to mark complete social degradation. In a reversal of food habits, novices may be forced to partake of the very kinds of food and drink that are socially taboo. Communication sometimes takes place by means of a private language, a corrupted form of social everyday language. The boys have their hair shaved off, walk on one shoe, or paint their faces white or black. In other ways, too, the verkehrte Welt may become manifest: the boys are permitted to do what is never allowed under normal circumstances. They are free to steal, to demand food under threat, to give the whole tribe a fit by staging night raids and even demolishing the entire roof of a house 102 . Obviously, there is a resemblance here to other 'periods of licence' or legale Anarchien such as Carnival or Saturnalia, to which I shall return. Looking for remnants of these initiatory elements is a fascinating pursuit and Jeanmaire's book mentioned above makes for absorbing reading. In point of fact he already adumbrated virtually all that later scholars were to deal with at greater length and in greater detail, the references to rituals still in use in Greece often being the 101 Kenner 1970, with too much emphasis on reversal as a symbol of death. Cf.: Versnel 1981, 582 ff. 102 These mids have been treated by K. Meuli in a series of studies on masks, carnival lore and charivari, collected in his Gesammelte Schriften I (Basel-Stuttgart 1975). Cf. also Eliade 1975, 83 with notes 9, 10, 11. Comparable rites can be found in women's initiation: R. Wolfram, Weiberbunde, Zeitschrijt fur Volkskunde 42 (1933) 143 ff.; M. Eliade, Mystere et regeneration spirituelle, Eranosjahrbuch 23 (1955) 81 ff. For the continuity in charivari ritual see: J. Le Goff etJ .-Cl. Schmitt (edd.) Le charivari (Paris etc. 1981 ); H. Rey Flaud, Le charivari: lesrituelsfondamentaux de la sexualiti (Paris 1985).
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most convincing part of the argument. That the Spartan krupteia with all it entails is a vivid example of an initiatory situation needs no argument, of course 103 . And that forms of paederasty which were found in Crete and Athens are relics ofthe sexual humiliations mentioned above is also an arguable thesis 104 . Sometimes there is also evidence of mythical references to initiatory motifs. In 1893 Crawley105 had already pointed out that Achilles, who hides in the isle of Skyros disguised as a girl, and who has been reared, moreover, outside the domain of civilisation by a centaur, represents the typical initiation candidate. The same may be said of Philoctetes, who is banished, with a stinking wound in his leg, to a lonely island 106 . Once again it is interesting to find a ritual accompanied by a myth, as was the case with the Arrhephoria: the Theseus myth and the Oschophoria festivaP 07 . A characteristic feature of this festival 103 Krupteia as a relic of initiation: Brelich 1969, 1-207, with a vast bibliography. But Nilsson had already seen the essential in: Klio 12 (1912) 308-40 = Opuscula selecta 2 (Lund 1952) 826-69. With more emphasis on initiatory elements: H. Jeanmaire, La cryptie lacedemonienne, REG 26 (19) 121-50. Cf. generally: J. Ducat, Le mepris des hilotes, Annates ESC 29 (1974) 1452-64;] .-P. Vernant, Entre Ia honte et Ia gloire, Metis 2 (1987) 269-98. On the typically initiatory assignment to lead the life of a herdsman and hunter in Greece: A. Schnapp, Pratiche e immagini de caccia nella Grecia antica, DA 1 (1979) 36-59. 104 Paederasty as an act of subjection during initiation: Van Gennep 1960, 171; Jeanmaire 1939, 455-60; Brelich 1969,84 f.; 120 f.;J. N. Bremmer, An Enigmatic Indo-European Rite: Paederasty, Arethusa 13 (1980) 279-98; cf. idem, Orpheus: From Guru to Gay, in: Ph. Borgeaud (ed.), Orphismeet Orphie (Geneve 1991) 13-30, on 'paederastic' aspects of the Orpheus myth. Cf. Burkert 1979, 29 f.; H. Patzer, Die griechische Knabenliebe, SbFrankfurt (1982). B. Sergent, L 'homosexualite dans Ia mythologie grecque (Paris 1984) and G. Koch-Harnack, Knabenliebe und Tiergeschenke: lhre Bedeutung im paderastischen Erziehungssystem Athens (Berlin 1983), are criticized by Th. J. Figueira, A]Ph 107 ( 1986) 426-32. After this B. Sergent, L 'homosexualite initiatique dans !'Europe ancienne (Paris 1986) has extended his theory over other European cultures. See the review by E. Cantarella, Iniziazione Greca e cultura indoeuropea, DHA 13 (1987) 365-75. Scepticism in: F. Buffiere, Eros adolescent. La pederastic dans Ia Grece antique (Paris 1980) 55-9. K. J. Dover returned to the problem in his 'Greek Homosexuality and Initiation', in: idem, The Greeks and their Legacy. Collected Papers II (Oxford 1988) 115-34, where he reacts to the theories of Bremmer, Patzer and Sergent. Cf. also D. Halperin, One Hundred Years of Homosexuality (London 1990) ch.3, and below n.169. Various forms of temple prostitution are also explained as (relics of) initiation ritual: Graf 1978, 73. 105 E. Crawley, Achilles and Scyros, CQ 7 (1893) 243-6, whose views are generally accepted: Bremmer 1978, 7 n.12. 106 For Philoctetes as the image of the initiate/ephebe see: P. Vidal-Naquet, Le 'Philoctt~te' de Sophocle et l'ephebie, in: Vernant & Vidal-Naquet 1973, 159-84, and the literature in Bremmer 1978, 9 n.33. For motifs of girl's initiation in Greek myths see Dowden 1989. 107 Theseus and the Oschophoria: Jeanmaire 1939, 243-5; 338-63. When Graf 1979, 17 n. 7, suggests: "Im einzelnen freilich wiiren seine Analysen nochmals zu
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is a procession of young men carrying bunches of grapes from Athens to the temple of Athena Skiras in Phaleron, headed by two boys in women's clothes; there is a sacrifice accompanied by lamentations. The youths are served special dishes, namely beans and greens (the pyanepsia), by special cooks or waitresses, the deipnophoroi, who also tell them stories (muthoi). There is a foot race of the ephebes, the winner being offered a draught of a panspermia. Plutarch links this festival with Theseus and his exploits, and the reader who is prepared to view the Oschophoria as a ritual reflection of the initiation of ephebes, might now also follow Jeanmaire when he recognizes in Theseus the mythical reflection of the initiation candidate. Theseus, too, is an ephebe: he puts on girls' clothes, he plunges to the bottom of the sea, has to enter the labyrinth, threatens to be annihilated by a divine monster, but escapes and returns to assume kingship. The theory that in the muthoi those women tell the boys the seed might be hidden from which these myths finally developed is highly suggestive, and from there, of course, it will not take long before Heracles's labours are interpreted as the mythical reflection of a phase of initiation as well. We can go even further: just as in the New Year complex king and god are supposed to be one another's reflection in fall and rise, so here the search has been for mythic-divine-and not only heroicreflections of the initiation candidate. Harrison'sMegistos Kouros was an example, but in the Greek pantheon there is another prototypical kouros, whose long hair is a signal of the ephebe on the eve of his initiation, to whom the boys dedicate their locks of hair on attaining manhood, who remains unmarried, an archer, the god from afar. As early as 1895 Th. Homolle 108 was aware that the Spartan apellai, notably those celebrated in the initial month of the year, Apellaios, were the rite during which the young men were admitted into the community of adults, and with thanks to Homolle (and Van Gennep) Harrison concludes (Themis, 441): "Apellon [the older form of iiberpriifen", it would be wise to pay special attention to the Salaminioi inscription. Cf. Vidai-Naquet 1981, 164 ff. Additions in Brelich 1969, 444 ff. Cf. also: J. Wilkins, The Young of Athens: Religion and Society in the Herakleidai of Euripides, CQ 40 (1990) 329-39, esp. 334 f. Recently C. Calame, Thisee et l'imaginaire Athinien. Legende et culte en Grece antique (Lausanne 1990) shows that the Athenians "ephebized" Theseus in the 5th century, as if to emphasize those aspects of the legend that take their meaning only fully in Athens. This 'symbolic' approach need not be in contradiction with the originally initiatory nature of the Theseus myth. 108 T. Homolle, Inscriptions de Delphes, BCH 19 (1895) 5-69.
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Apollon] is the projection of these rites; he, like Dionysos, like Herakles, is the arch-ephebos, the Megistos Kouros''. As I have pointed out, nearly everything has already been saidoften as a brief suggestion-and the reason why many things have been said once again in recent times is twofold: first, they had been brushed aside during several decades, and, second, our store of information has increased to such an extent that, thanks to a wealth of comparative material, that which was formerly no more than a hypothesis may be, if not proven, at least made more plausible. Hence a paper by W. Burkert: 'Apellai und Apollon>1° 9 , followed by another by one of his pupils, F. Graf, about Apollo Delphinios110, the god that is more immediately concerned with the young man's admission into the official political and social roles. Here and elsewhere a good deal of research remains to be done. We shall return to this god and his initiatory aspects later in this book. Burkert's final synthesis is pure 'Harrison': '' Achilleus, fast ein Doppelganger Apellons" (Achilles, almost a double of Apellon). In the instances mentioned above it is always a matter of ritual relics111, mythical references to evident initiatory elements or, in the most interesting cases, of longer mythical-narrative sequences, where the ritual counterpart has been given by the ancient authors themselves, the protagonist is at least a typical ephebe, or several elements refer unmistakably to initiation. A case in point is the Theseus myth, which seems to satisfy all three requirements. Apart from that, however, we can make a great stride forward by research in myths and legends that do not so evidently and immediately fit into this frame, in order to see whether they do not go back, after all, to a similar initiation scheme. There are precedents in various fields; certain fairy tale types were believed to contain recognizable initiation elements. Tom Thumb and Snow White, for instance, 109 With the remark on p .11: "Es ist erstaunlich wie diese These, kaum beachtet, aus der Diskussion unversehens wieder verschwunden ist." Cf. also the good discussion in idem 1985, 260-4. I have added some observations below inch. V. See also the recent remarks in Auffarth 1991, 427-9. 110 Burkert 1975a and Graf 1979, respectively. 111 Cf. also the recent attempt to trace back the Lupercalia to initiation ritual in: Chr. Ulf, Das Romische Lupercalienjest. Ein Modelljall fur Methodenprobleme in der Altertumswissenschajt (Darmstadt 1982), and the attempts by M. Torelli to explain the archaeological finds in Lavinium as elements of initiation ritual: Torelli 1984. For some reactions to this book see below p.322 n.108. Cf. also: idem, Riti di passaggio maschili di Roma arcaica, MEFRA 102 (1990) 93-106.
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turn out to be something quite different from that which some of us believed in even up into old age. Robin Hood once more puts in an appearance, not as a year king or year god this time, but as the leader of a Jungmannschajt, and in the classical field Odysseus, the Argonauts, Oedipus and others have long preceded him 112 . What we perceive here is the shaping of a pattern, a process that may be compared, fundamentally, to the former myth and ritual approach, though it is rooted in a new paradigm, the one of the social interpretation of myth and ritual. Instead of the 'dying and rising' complex of gods and kings around the New Year festival, the frame of reference is now the initiation candidate, banished, sorely tried, sometimes doomed to death, coming off triumphant, returning with a new status. With Frazer and his followers the myth and ritual complex had its function within the larger frame of vegetative fertility, which could be influenced by means of magic, or, more generally, ritual. The initiation complex has been embedded in a wider frame too, that of 'marginal existence'. We have thus left the realm of nature and have entered upon the domain of culture and society. An evaluation of the most recent myth and ritual explorations in the 112 Generally on initiatory evidence in fairy tales etc.: V. Propp, Le radici storiche dei raconti di fate (1946, Turin 1972 2); A. Fierz-Monnier, Initiation und Wandlung. Zur Geschichte des altjranzosischen Romans im 12. Jhdt. (Bern 1951); J. de Vries, Betrachtungen zum Mii.rchen besonders in seinem Verhii.ltnis zu Heldensage und Mythos, F. F. Communications 150 (Helsinki 1954); Enzyclopii.die des Mii.rchens, s.v. 'Archaische Ziige', 735; 'Brauch' 692; 'Brautsproben'; Eliade 1975, 124 ff.; idem, Wissenschaft und March en, in: F. Karlinger, Wege der Marchenforschung (Darmstadt 1973) 311-9, the sole contribution in this collection which connects the fairy tale with initiation. Nor is there any emphasis on initiatory elements in the rich and balanced account by J. L. Fischer, The Sociopsychological Analysis of Folktales, Current Anthropology 4 (1963) 235-95. On Tom Thumb: P. Saintyves, Les conies de Perrault et les ricits paralteles (Paris 1923); Propp, o.c. 362; G. Germain, Essai sur les origines de certains themes odysseens et sur lagenese de l'Odyssee (Paris 1954) 78-86 (Odysseus, too, was a dwarf). On Snow White: N.J. Girardot and A. Winterstein in studies cited above (n.98). On Robin Hood: R. Wolfram, Robin Hood und Hobby Horse, Wiener Prii.historische Zeitschrift 19 (1932) 357-74. On Odysseus, particularly the episode with the Cyclops: Germain o.c.; especially Bremmer 1978, discussed below. On the Argonauts: R. Roux, Le prob!eme des Argonautes. Recherche sur les aspects religieux de la ligende (Paris 1949); A. Heiserman, The Novel before the Novel (Chicago 1977) 11-40; R. L. Hunter, Short of Heroics: Jason in the Argonautika, CQ38 (1988) 436-53. On the initiatory references of the Symplegades: Eliade 197 5, 64 ff.; J. Lindsay, The Clashing Rocks (London 1956). Oedipus: M. Delcourt, Oedipe, ou la ligende du heros conquerant (Paris 1944, 1981 2); V. Propp, Edipo alta luce delfolclore (Turin 1975); J. N. Bremmer, Oedipus and the Greek Oedipous Complex, in, idem 1987a, 41-59. F. Crevatin, Eroe, RSA ( 1976/7) 221-35, even contends that the term heros originally denoted a youth as member of a Mii.nnerbund or jungmannschajt.
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classical field is incomplete without first taking a critical glance at this modern anthropological research on marginality, by which these studies of classical issues have been decisively influenced. I shall do this first, briefly adding a few examples of significant applications of this theory to classical problems. With the help of another example I shall go on to show that the methodological dangers we find looming here are comparable to-and no less impressive than-those that were inherent in Frazer's theory. 2. Marginality: profits and pitfalls of a concept
Whoever comes across terms such as 'marginal' or 'liminal' nowadays should know that Van Gennep's scheme underlies these concepts, but that in recent studies, notably under the influence of the anthropologist V. W. Turner, these terms are taken in a much wider sense 113 . It was found that the eccentric existence in the margin of society, the asocial or antisocial way of life, is marked by a whole range of phenomena. In this context we may distinguish, in a purely systematic fashion, marginal groups or individuals, which find themselves in the 'eccentric' situation either for some considerable time or permanently, from marginal periods or situations, in which individuals or groups withdraw from social patterns temporarily, often by way of ritual demonstration. In either case the atmosphere of marginality is marked by stereotyped marginal signals 114 . A few examples follow. Marginal groups or individuals 115 that have their whereabouts, sometimes literally, on the outskirts of society are-apart from the 1 13 V. W. Turner, Betwixt and Between: The Liminal Period in Rites de Passage, in: J. Helm (ed. ), Proceedings of the American Ethnological Society for 1964 (Seattle 1964) 4-20; idem, The Forest ofS?,mbols (Ithaca-London 1967) 93-111; idem, The Ritual Process (Harmondsworth 1974 ); idem, Comments and Conclusions, in: B. A. Babcock (ed.), The Reversible World (Ithaca-London 1978) 276-96; idem,Process, System, and Symbol: A New Anthropological Synthesis, Daedalus 1977, 61-80; idem, Dramas, Fields and Metaphors: Symbolic Action in Human Society (Ithaca-London 1974) ch. 6. See also: Gluckman 1955; idem 1963; Lewis 1976, 1 ff. 114 The concept of marginality was already exploited by E. V. Stonequist, The Marginal Man (New York 1937). For a recent sociological collection of studies see: R. Ferguson, M. Gever, T. T. Ming-Ha, C. West (edd.), Out There: Marginalization and Contemporary Cultures (New York 1990). 115 I am aware that this is a very rough presentation which requires refinements in many respects. In his Dramas, Turner makes a distinction between 'liminality', 'outsiderhood' and 'structural inferiority'. However, the characteristics of these different categories largely concur.
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juvenile groups of the Jungmannschajt type-monks, anchorites, pirates, bandits, as well as, in a sense, animals, and from a certain point of view also the gods and the dead. In this context those people who have specific contacts with the gods, the dead or animals also rank as marginal: the possessed, lunatics, godly men, prophets, seers, shepherds. These individuals often live literally in the margin of society, outside the boundaries of culture. The same may be the case with groups that do not take part in the social process: beggars, cynics, hippies, tramps. Groups that oppose society above all in a political sense: anarchists, revolutionaries, millenarians, messianists. Strangers, especially when of a different color, are marginal by definition, but also groups within a society that nonetheless are felt to be strange somehow: migrant workers, metics, immigrants, slaves. Groups or individuals that do not function fully in society: children, adolescents, sick, poor, unemployed and those that, while functioning fully, do so within some specific area only: women, priests, kings. Marginal situations are situations that tend to remove individual persons or groups temporarily from a normal social existence. Initiation-and in particular the period of the 'margin' -is the example we have discussed, but no less exemplary are festivals of an exceptional character, during which things that normally are forbidden are tolerated, roles are reversed and people generally kick over the traces 116 . Instances of such Ausnahmefeste are the Carnival and its ancient equivalents such as the Saturnalia and the Kronia, but also women's festivals such as the Thesmophoria, Dionysiac festivals, the Roman festival of Bona Dea, giving women in seclusion an opportunity to indulge in excesses in their own way. I shall discuss a number of these festivals of licence in the present book 117 . Other marginal situations are periods of mourning, of disease, especially epidemics, famine, and social phenomena of acculturation and disintegration accompanied by crises of identity 11 B.
On these periods of licence see above all: Lanternari 1976. On the Kronia see below ch. II, Saturnalia ch. III, Bona Dea and Thesmophoria ch. IV. 118 In Versnel 1981 I paid attention to the anomie aspects of liminality. I noticed there that mourning as a period ofliminality for the relatives had scarcely been investigated in modern scholarship. Since then several monographs have appeared: R. Huntington and P. Metcalf, Celebrations of Death. The Anthropology of Mortuary 116 117
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Obviously, there are a great many cross-relations and overlaps between the groups and situations mutually as well as between the concepts of 'marginal group' and 'marginal situation': members of messianist movements or utopians may be viewed, of course, as temporary marginals but also as groups 'in permanent transition'~19.
People in marginal situations are outside normal society, they are asocial, but that does not imply that they necessarily lead a totally atomized existence. On the contrary, more often than not a new, different, nonstructural relationship develops, for which V. W. Turner coined the term communitas. There is a feeling of fellowship, of solidarity, which distinguishes this group from the structured society. This communication is brought about among other things by marginal signals, which, as a rule, are nothing but opposites to the current cultural signs 120 . People in liminal situations may shave off their hair or, on the contrary, wear it long, paint their faces, wear a felt hood or women's clothes, dress in a strange, eccentric way, abstain from sexual acts or, just the reverse, indulge in perversions or abolish sex distinctions. They speak a different language or remain totally silent. They follow deviant habits in matters of food and drink, change their names, perform acts of self-mutilation or tattooing, and so forth. Let us now, with the help of a few examples, demonstrate how this concept of marginality can be used to elucidate puzzling problems in the ancient religions. For this purpose I select some suggestions from studies by F. Graf and J. N. Bremmer respectively, who both, more than others, and following in Burkert's footsteps, use the concept of marginality as a tool in their research. The ancient libation (Gr. spondai, Lat. libatio), a drink offering that is poured out on the ground or on an eschara, may consist of the Ritual (Cambridge 1979, 1980 2), which, however, concentrates on the dead, not on the living. Cf. also: L. M. Danforth, The Death Rituals of Rural Greece (Princeton U .P. 1982); S. Humphreys and H. King ( eds.), Mortality and Immortality: the AnthropologyandArcheologyofDeath (London 1981); Gnoli & Vernant 1982; R.Garland, The Greek Way of Death (London-Ithaca 1985). For Rome: J. Scheid, Contrariafacere: Renversements et deplacements dans les rites funeraires, AION(archeol) 6 (1984) 117-39. 11 9 I borrow this concept from C. H. Hambrick, World-Messianity. A Study in Liminality and Communitas, Religious Studies 15 (1979) 539-53. 120 See for the adoption of signals of poverty by modish marginal groups: Turner 1974b, and the discussion of the felt cap in: Bremmer 1978, 19 f.
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following basic ingredients: milk and honey, wine, water, oil. In a paper entitled 'Milch, Honig und Wein' F. Graf12 1 made a study of the frame of reference of these ingredients. He found that milk and honey in particular are the liquid signals of marginal and abnormal situations and groups 122 . According to the Hellenic conception, Greek men drink wine mixed with water. Milk and honey, on the other hand, are characteristic of women and children, of marginal groups such as the Pythagoreans, but also of barbarian nations, who are typified as milk drinkers (Teutons, Scythians), and of utopian, 'natural' man of both prehistoric and eschatological times 123 . Grafs thesis is fully demonstrable: "Honig und Milch ... waren also abnorm, marginale FliiF..igkeiten" (honey and milk ... were 'abnormal', marginal liquids). With a little more trouble a case could also be made for water, oil, and even for wine, if undiluted. Now, if a libatio wholly consists of ingredients that refer to the margin, the question arises what this may signify. The answer can be found in the fact that the libatio of this composition is itself used specifically in marginal situations, for instance in contacts with the dead, with heroes, with the underworld: in the liminal sphere, therefore, between death and life. There is an ideal correspondence here between signifiant and signifie. In a paper on the Greek pharmakos J.N. Bremmer 124 sheds new light on this scapegoat and the related rites from the point of view of 'the margin'. The fact, for instance, not understood hitherto, that the pharmakos is beaten with 'squills or twigs of the wild fig tree' is convincingly explained by the fact that these plants, being sterile, belonged to the 'marginal' sphere. Of course, there is no problem in interpreting the persons who served as pharmakoi in historic times as marginal because, on the whole, it was marginal characters such as criminals, paupers and riffraff generally that were cast in that role. Here too, therefore, there is an excellent correspondence be-
121 Graf 1980. Cf., however, A. Henrichs, The 'Sobriety' of Oedipus: Sophocles OC 100 misunderstood, HSCPh 87 (1983) 87-100. 122 On various diets as signals of segregation: Douglas 1970, passim; eadem 1975, 249-75. 123 On spec;fic types of food as characteristics of marginal civilizations and barbarians, see also: J. N. Bremmer, ZPE 39 (1980) 33; Auffarth 1991, 316 ff., and the literature cited below p .1 08. 124 J. N. Bremmer, Scapegoat Rituals in Ancient Greece, HSCP 87 (1983) 299-320.
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tween signijiant and signijie, both clearly belonging to the margin. When, however, kings who acted as scapegoats in the myths are defined as "the lonely marginal at the top" we see tensions looming ahead between these two categories of signijiant and signijil This is one of the dangers inherent in a general sense in the theories of marginality described so far. These dangers might be classified as follows: 1. There is no need to be a structuralist to conclude that within any conceivable society it must be possible to point to binary oppositions in which one member is abnormal or marginal, as compared with other, central or normal members. It is a well-known fact, moreover, that people tend to declare their own group the center and all others outsiders. If we take the-very incomplete-list ofimaginable marginals quoted above, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that virtually everybody, depending on the comparison, is or may be marginal, with the exception of a roughly forty-year-old, diligent, healthy, native, non-hunchbacked man with close-cropped hair, entitled to carrying arms, and in possession offull civic rights, wife and children 125 . That I am not really exaggerating may be apparent from the results of a study in 'Astrology and Marginality' by R. Wuthnow 126 , which concludes that "it was the more poorly educated, the unemployed, non-white, females, the unmarried, the overweight, the ill, and the lonely, who were most taken with astrology.'' Even those who hold that this still does prove something will understand that, at the same time, it verges dangerously on tautology. Armed with such a definition, you could take practically any category and prove that it is a marginal one, with the exception of the 'normal' family man with all the normal characteristics mentioned above. A criminal as a marginal pharmakos is not a debatable point: any criminal is marginal by definition. A king as a scapegoat is much more interesting but at the same time less easy to explain if you start from the margin model. In my opinion, the power and the tragedy of the ultimate sacrifice, in this case, are effected not because the king is a marginal person but because the king as the centre
125 Confirming the words of Detienne in: Detienne & Vernant 1979, 186: "Dans Ia cite grecque, comme on le sait, ce sont les marginaux qui manquent le moins. '' 126 R. Wuthnow, Astrology and Marginality, journal of the Scientific Study of Religion 15 (1976) 157-68.
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of society is made a marginal person through his expulsion from that which society considers the position of highest prestige. It is understandable, therefore, that the king as scapegoat belongs virtually exclusively to the mythical imagination 12 7. Nearly all (groups of) people, then, are (potentially) marginal in some respect or another and so also are most situations. In various studies that I consulted the following ancient peoples and territories were labeled 'marginal': Scythians, Teutons, India, Southern Italy, Thracia, Lemnos, Troy, Lycia, Scheria, Ithaca, Skyros, Boeotia, Euboia, certain regions in Attica. True, such statements will always be tenable with regard to a certain period and a carefully selected centre, but there is an obvious danger of arbitrariness and generalization. The same applies to gods and demigods discussed in these various studies, such as Apollo, Dionysos, Hermes, Pan, Poseidon, Athena, Artemis, Heracles, Theseus, who are either called marginal in a more general way or labeled outright 'initiation gods' 128 . 2. Whereas we can try to escape the preceding danger by using precise definition and careful argumentation, the following objection cannot be met successfully because it does not depend on the researcher's skill or honesty. The marginal signals are seldom specific. An exemplary illustration of this phenomenon is found in the libatio signals, which, as we have seen, implied general references to highly divergent marginal situations and groups and could only be specified thanks to the fact that the context referred to was known to us. In my country, when you see a man in an entirely black suit, you at once assume that he is in a marginal situation. Which situation 127 Albeit 'egregious', the king is first and foremost the symbol of the centre of society: Lewis 1976, ch. 9: The Power at the Centre; Cl. Geertz, Center, Kings and Charisma, in J. Ben David & T. N. Clark, Culture and its Creators (Chicago 1980) 150-71, with on p. 15 7 the king as 'the center of the center'; E. Shils and M. Young, The Meaning of the British Coronation, in: E. Shils, Center and Periphery: Essays in Macrosociology (Chicago 1975). Cf. for antiquity: Versnel 1981b. For the Greek imagery see: Vernant & Vidal-Naquet 1972, 99-131, esp. 105: "symmetry between the pharmakos and the king of legend in which the former, at the bottom of the scale, took on a role analogous to that which the latter played at the top". Very interesting on narrative variants of kings turning into pharmakoi: ]. Stern, Scapegoat Narratives in Herodotus, Hermes 119 (1991) 304-11. 128 Cf. Dowden 1989, 198 f.: "It may seem shocking or insensitive to those used to structuralist approaches to systems of gods to assert that goddesses appear largely interchangeable in our study". In chapter V, I shall be so bold as to add the god Mars and present literature on other 'initiatory' gods (p.310). For Heracles see also: F. Bader, De Ia prehistoire a l'ideologie tripartie: les travaux d'Herakles, in: Bloch 1985, 9-124.
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that is, however, requires additional information: he is walking behind a coffin, he carries a prayer book (on Sunday) or he is serving refreshments. When you observe a man wearing a long white or orange robe, with a curious hairdo or a dean-shaven head and a painted face, you have to pay attention to the context before you can tell whether this is a religious marginal or someone from the marginal sphere of carnival or the circus 129 . In other words, the traffic is unimpeded in one direction only: from the situation to the signals. Only the former (the signifie) is specific; the signals (the signifiant) usually are not, and cannot in themselves, therefore, be related with certainty to any one marginal situation, not even when they seem to fit into an orderly pattern !30. 3. Here we touch upon a third point. The protagonists of the initiation myth and ritual theory seldom fail to play what they consider their trump card, the 'internal coherence' of the pattern in which all the pieces neatly fall into their proper slots. A characteristic passage, for instance, is the following: "In this way all the different motifs which, taken separately, may of course occur in different contexts, are explained by one hermeneutic key which is, from a methodic point of view, to be preferred to all kinds of supposed influences" 131 . Now it cannot have escaped anybody's notice that 129 A good example in: A. Droogers, Symbols of Marginality in the Biographies of Religious and Secular Innovators. A Comparative Study of the Lives of Jesus, Waldes, Booth, Kimbagu, Buddha, Mohammed and Marx, Numen 27 (1980) 105-21, where it appears that liminal signals such as "nature (versus culture), travelling and provisional lodging (versus sedentary life), non-violence and solidarity" ( = Turner's communi/as H.S. V.) are characteristic of both (religious) innovators "who prosper in the margin of society" and of initiates. Numerous, too, are the similarities with behaviour of people in mourning: Versnel 1980. All this does not exclude derivation: sacral kings from Central Asia have borrowed their initiatory rites from shamanistic initiations. See: M. Waida, Notes on Sacral Kingship in Central Asia, Numen 23 (1976) 179-90; K. Czegledy, Das sakrale Konigtum bei den Steppenvolkern, Numen 13 (1966) 14-26. 130 Cf. Henrichs, o.c. (above n.121) 97, on Grafs discussion of ritual symbols marking 'marginal' phases and transitions during the 'ritual process': "Although this structural aproach has its demonstrable merits whenever the ritual context of wineless libations is known, our lack of information renders it inapplicable in all but one of the cases listed above." 13 1 Bremmer 1978, 23. Cf. also Graf 1978, 67: "Dass diejenige Deutung cines Rituals der W ahrheit am niichsten kommt, welche moglichst aile Einzelheiten geschlossen erkliiren kann, ist cine Binsenwahrheit"; Burkert 1966, 14: "Betrachtet man die Arrhephoria- Riten ( ... ) als Miidchenweihe, so wird das Ganze von Anfang his Ende durchsichtig, sinnvoll und notwendig' '. But cf. his reconsiderations below in section 6 of this chapter.
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those two essential dangers mentioned so far-the general applicability of the marginality concept and its inherent fatal elasticity, on the one hand, and the lack of specificity of really unmistakable marginal signals, on the other-are, mutatis mutandis, in general a threat to any theory that tries to recognize a pattern within a diversity of phenomena. These objections were raised repeatedly, notably to the old myth and ritual advocates, Frazer among them, not least by those scholars who have recently discovered a different pattern. So let us finally evaluate the 'coherence' trump card in this light. In the Times obituary, Tylor's work was eulogized as follows: "He held that the enumeration of facts must form the staple of the argument, and that the limit of needful detail was reached only when each group of facts so displayed its general law that fresh ones came to range themselves in their proper niches as new instances of an already established rule" 132 . Those words were written by a believer: automatically all the threads fall just right, weaving the pattern of Tylor's animism. One small matter, though: nobody believes in this pattern any more, no more than anybody believes in Frazer's central theses. And yet the latter had filled many hefty tomes chock-full with 'facts, facts, facts', which all-so he maintained-fell exactly into their proper places 133 . All the same, even if all the pieces were to fit brilliantly in one single pattern, that still does not guarantee the 'truth' of that pattern: "The accepted truths of to-day are apt to become the discarded errors of tomorrow'', as Dodds once put it 134 . The researcher is not to blame for this, and fortunately nobody seems to mind this horrible truth too much, for even those who agree with me that ''all kinds of supposed influences'' as a notion is, in point of fact, an absolutely viable and general factor in constructing cultural realities, cannot do without theory, pattern or scheme if they want to get on with their research. Bearing in mind the three dangers mentioned, let us now look at a specific theory in which-unlike the cases of libatio and pharmakos, which remained practically entirely within the realm of the rite-our only information derives from a mythical story which, moreover, does not deal at all with a young man and has nonetheless been interpreted as a literary reflection of the ritual intiation scheme. 132 133 134
Quoted by Kardiner 1962, 63. See on this methodological principle: Smith 1978, 240-64. Dodds 1968 p. VIII.
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In a paper entitled 'Heroes, Rituals and the Trojan War' J. N. Bremmer135 discusses a number of heroes who figure in the epics, concluding that the traditions ''designate their protagonists as young men in the transition from boyhood to adulthood" (35). When, in this context, Achilles, Pyrrhus/Neoptolemos, Philoctetes and Paris are discussed, this will surprise nobody after what we remarked before, but there are already complications. Anyone who writes "For our purpose we deduce from this interpretation that Achilles' arrival at Troy fell in the ephebic period of his life'', must needs keep silence about the equally pseudo-historic context of the equally ephebic son of Achilles, Neoptolemos, who, from the historical point of view, cannot very well have arrived at Troy as an ephebe ten years later than his father. What should worry us much more, however, is the fact that the list includes not only the young men mentioned above but also Hector and Odysseus: Hector above all because of his special hair-cut, the Hektoreios kome, Odysseus on account of a number of elements in his history 136 . The fact that Odysseus, on whom we are going to focus from now on, was already a 135 Bremmer 1978. In some respects he was preceded by G. Germain, o.c. (above n.112). See also the cautious survey of the discussion in: Graf 1991, 358 ff. Bremmer has largely accepted my criticism of his interpretation of the Odyssey: Lampas 17 (1984) 141 n.49. Recently Auffahrt 1991 has made another attempt of a considerably different nature to explain the Odyssey within an initiatory scheme. See below n.139. In still another way: P. Scarpi, II ritorno di Odysseus e Ia metafora del viaggio iniziatico, in: M.-M. Mactoux & E. Geny (edd.), Melanges Pierre Leveque I (Paris 1988) 245-59. 136 On the whole, the interpretation of the Homeric kouroi with their long hair as a reflection of youthful warriors is liable to serious criticism. For instance: H. W. Singor, Oorsprong en ontwikkeling van de hoplietenphalanx in het archai'sche Griekenland (Diss Lei den 1988) 125, argues that the term kouros like iuvenis denotes the age group between 20 and 45 or 50 (For the age of iuvenis see below pp.329; 333.). Matters are highly complicated, of course, by the nature of our 'historical' source. Homer freely used techniques as condensation, displacement and figuration (Verdichtungsarbeit, Verschiebungsarbeit, Darstellung according to Freud). See: P. Wathelet, Les Troyens del' Iliade: mytheet histoire (Diss. Liege 1986); cf. also: M.J. Alden, The Role ofTelemachus in the 'Odyssey', Hermes 115 (1987) 129-37. F. Hartog, Le miroir d'Hirodote (Paris 1980) 59-79, has made the revealing discovery that Herodotus IV understands the Scythians as cunning ephebes and P. Vidal-Naquet, The Black Hunter Revisited, PCPS 212 (1986) 124-44, to whom I owe some of these references, infers that ephebeia has become a semantic category by the fifth century, working as a 'symbolic operator'. The problem, however, is that the Homeric descriptions of the kouroi, being the normal warriors, precisely lack explicit references to the ephebic situation, in contradistinction to the scarce references to actual initiatory scenes as for instance the story of Odysseus' hunt with the sons of Autolykos in Odyssey 19.
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king and had a little son when he sailed from Ithaka, even if not a decisive difficulty, is apt to rouse the reader's suspicion. These complications may help to explain why there is a certain wavering in the description. Having started out to show that several heroes found themselves "in a transitional state", Bremmer concludes that all the heroes mentioned, including Odysseus, are described as young men in the transition from boyhood to adulthood, whereas, on page 23, he had inferred from Odysseus' tale that his was "an evident case of royal initiation,'' which, though doubtlessly related, is a different thing 137 . What are the narrative elements that turn Odysseus into an ephebe in the initiatory period or, in other words, typify the narrative scheme of Odysseus' wanderings as the mythical reflection of initiation rites? "What conclusion can we draw? It will be clear that we recognize an evident case of royal initiation in the tale of the prince, who has to leave home, wanders around, is present at cannibalistic activities, visits the underworld, has a wound in the thigh, is an archer, is sexually very active, returns as a beggar, restores the cultural order as a symbolic survivor of the Flood and finally becomes king': (Bremmer 1978, 23). In support of this thesis a number of parallels had been listed before, showing, for instance, that cannibalistic performances, the notion of the primeval flood, sexual activities, and so forth are typical of the atmosphere of initiation and transitional rites. This is not enough, however, to dispel any doubts we may feel: the presumption that Odysseus is a typical archer is only evidenced by his shot through the axes 138 , whereas everywhere else in the epic he is the adult warrior with the normal equipment; his leg wound is a scar, possibly a relic from his time as an ephebe, but only by way of a memento; and as for that sexual appetite, we are equally justified, or even more so, in maintaining that the texts depict Odysseus, despite his enforced contacts, as a faithful and above all married hero 139 . There are many more details that call for
137 See e.g. A. AlfOldi, Konigsweihe und Miinnerbund bei den Achiimeniden, Schweizerische Archiv for Volkskunde 47 (1951) 11-6, and the works ofWidengren and Wikander mentioned in n.90. 138 See: Auffarth 1991, 502-23. 139 The tension that looms up here is spotlighted by the recent reconsiderations by Auffarth 1991. He reserves the genuine initiatory elements in the Odyssey for Telemachos (rightly so, in my view). Though also detecting initiatory aspects in the story of Odysseus, he practically restricts them to the scar and the 'Bogen probe'.
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some reservations 140 , but that is not what I am concerned with now. The issue at stake is rather the essential dangers as formulated above inherent in the method. That the protagonist of the Odyssey finds himself in a Turneresque 'transitional state' is, in the case of an adventurous wanderer, as yet no more than a tautology 141 . It is here, therefore, that the problem of the general applicability of the notion of 'marginality' reveals itself. Now the question arises if and how a more specific 'transitional state' can be demonstrated. The argumentation needed to turn Odysseus into an initiation candidate has to be based entirely-because there is no ritual counterpart available and the protagonist, moreover, as a forty year old father, cannot very well be depicted as an ephebe-on a bunch of marginal signals, but such signals, in this case too, are practically without exception nonspecific (the second problem pointed out above). In the list of signals quoted above I can detect only one specific initiatory element: the scar on the thigh, but that, of all things, goes back disertis verbis to Odysseus' youth and is as such beyond the scope of the pseudo-historical narrative sequence the pattern is believed to be
The day of Odysseus' return coincides with the day of the ephebic initiation (including the bow-test). After nineteen years the king returns on the day of the initiation of his nineteen year old son. It is the festive day of Apollo, a New Year's festival. Odysseus is not an ephebos, but a sacral king, who by his safe return from great dangers and his excellence at the bow-contest proves his righteousness: " ... den Ablauf der Handlung, gipfelnd in dem Fest des Apollon, einemjahresfest zur Aufnahme der Epheben unter die Manner, mit dem athletischen W ettkampf der Bogenprobe, zugleich der (Wieder-) Einsetzung des Basileus, mit seinem Eid zur gerechten Amtsfiihrung und seiner Hochzeit mit der 'Konigin' '' (288). On initiatory elements in the Telemachos tale, see: C. W. Eckert, Initiatory Motifs in the Story ofTelemachus, CJ 59 (1963/4) 49-5 7; U. Holscher, Die Odyssee. Epos zwischen Marchen und Roman (Munich 1988) 251-8. On the function ofTelemachos for the plot of the Odyssey see: T. Krischer, Odysseus und Telemachos, Hermes 116 (1988) 1-23, who even thinks that "der Odysseus der Odyssee aufTelemach angewiesen ist; er wiirde ohne die Aktivitiit des Sohnes seine ldentitiit als Held des trojanischen Krieges verlieren' '. 140 Such scepticism is for instance expressed by A. Heubeck, Zur neueren Homerforschung, Gymnasium 89 (1982) 441 f. 141 Consequently, Ch. Segal, Transition and Ritual in Odysseus' Return, PP 22 (1967) 321-42, has not the slightest difficulty in interpreting motifs such as sleep, purification by baths, the threshold, or, if necessary, the total Odyssey, as one great 'transition' from death to life, though, for that matter, without any reference to initiation. Cf. also: P. Wathelet, Priam aux Enfers ou le retour du corps d'Hector, LEG 56 (1988) 321-35: Priam's search for Achilles through the Greek camp corresponds with a rite de passage to 'the other world'.
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based on 142 . All the other signals that have been suggested, such as, notably, the elements of(man-eating) monsters and survival after a primeval flood-if we may interpret Odysseus' adventures at sea in this fashion at all-also fit smoothly into other schemes that are not necessarily initiatory 143 . In point of fact, they belong to the stereotyped elements of this type of adventure story. There is a striking parallel in a debate between A. Henrichs and J. Winkler 144 . The former, basing himself on, among other things, cannibalistic elements in a recently discovered Lollianus fragment, discovers a ritual background in the context of secret cult societies, whereas the latter shows in detail that all the elements belonged to the stock in trade of classic fiction. There is some affinity between Henrich's approach and that of R. Merkelbach 145 , who defended the theory that virtually all remaining classical novels are based on some initiation pattern, but this time initiation into theHellenistic mysteries. Everything fits perfectly: "This book only [!] intends to prove that the novels are really mystery texts" (from the preface). This discussion is fully comparable-and endless, because the thesis is, at best, plausible but incapable of proof. It could not be proven until an immediate ritual counterpart went with it, the signals pointed specifically to one type of ritual, or the story could solely and exclusively be interpreted as the reflection of this specific (and not of any other) ritual. That this is not the case as far as the Odyssey 142 On the wound of the thigh as an initiatory signal see in particular: G. J. Baudy 1986, 50 ff.; Auffarth 1991, 447-56. There are more initiatory signals in connection with Odysseus' youth: Bremmer 1978, 15 f. The same for Nestor: idem, ZPE 47 (1982) 143 n. 43. On Odysseus' initiation via hunting probes: Nancy F. Rubin and W.M. Sale, Meleager and Odysseus: A Structural and Cultural Study of the Greek Hunting-Maturation Myth, Arethusa 16 (1983) 7-71, with a reply to criticism: Arethusa 17 (1984) 211-22. 143 Therefore I am in agreement with Graf 1991, 359, when he-though generally in sympathy with Bremmer's argument-warns: "Freilich sollte die Frage nach der Verbinding von Epos und Ritual mit einem prazisen hermeneutischen Instrumentarium angegangen werden ... ''. 144 Henrichs 1972; J. Winkler, Lollianos and the Desperadoes, JHS 100 (1980) 153-81. 145 R. Merkelbach, Roman und Mysterium in der Antike (Munich-Berlin 1962). Previous attempts in this direction: K. Kerenyi, Diegriechisch-orientalische Romanliteratur in religionsgeschichtlicher Beleuchtung (Tiibingen 1927, Darmstadt 1962 2). A different, but not preferable approach: G. Wojaczek, Daphnis (Meisenheim 1969). An excellent critical discussion: A. Geyer, Roman und Mysterienritual. Zum Problem eines Bezugs zum dionysischen Mysterienritual im Roman des Longos, WJA 3 (1977) 179-96; cf. also: G. Freimuth, MH 21 (1964) 93 ff. An interesting
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is concerned is a fact for which, in the nature of things, we cannot blame the interpreter, who is, in fact, fully entitled to give a maximalist interpretation with the help of his key. He has this right above all because elsewhere and under more favourable conditions he has drawn attention to initiatory elements in later myth or rite more convincingly and with illuminating results, as we shall have the opportunity of noticing time and again in our further investigations. Nonetheless, the reader has the right and the duty to assess each interpretation critically. And the present reader, for one, tends to shy away from reducing the Odyssey to an initiatory scheme in such a drastic and rather mechanistic way for two reasons. The first reason is that this would mean squeezing a great number of elements into one strait-jacket 146 , whereas we have a wider and more natural interpretive model at our disposal 147 . Nobody, however, should accept this critical remark without having read Bremmer's highly suggestive article, which offers an exemplary introattempt at mediation between the extreme points of view: R. Beck, Soteriology, the Mysteries and the Ancient Novel: Iamblichus Babylonica as a Test-Case. In: Bianchi & Vermaseren 1982, 527-46. l46 P. Scarpi, II ritorno di Odysseus e la metafora del viaggio iniziatico, in: Melanges P. Leveque I (Paris 1988) 245-59, esp. 251, warns us that the search for ritual backgrounds of the heroic myths "ha implicata quasi una meccanica riduzione al rito dell' immenso patrimonio mitologico condensato nell' epopea omerica". 147 One might, for instance, understand the adventures of Odysseus as expressions of his temporary sojourn outside the boundaries of normal time and place, an 'eccentricity' marked by both utopian and dystopian imagery. On this ambiguity see below ch. II. As R. Scodel, The Achaean Wall and the Myth of Destruction, HSCP 86 (1982) 33-50, has shown, the Homeric poems contain quite a few references to the 'pre-deluvial' era, and she even argues that the story of the Trojan war itself may have originated in Zeus' wish to destroy the race of the hbnitheoi, as the episode of the destruction of the Achaean wall certainly does. In the context of 'eccentric' experiences there is quite a difference between the statement that Odysseus represents a youth during his initiation and the well-known theory that both fairy-tales and (a specific type of) myths, including the one of Odysseus, go back to shaman tales- the records of their ecstatic experiences in the 'other world': L. Frobenius, Kulturgeschichte Afrikas (Frankfurt 1933 = Zurich 1954) 306; K. Meuli, Scythica, in: Meuli 1975 II, 835 ff.; F. vonder Leyen, MythusundMiirchen, Deutsche Vierteljahrschrijt fur Literaturwissenschajt und Geistesgeschichte 33 (1959) 343 ff.; M. Eliade, Les savants et les contes des fees, Nouvelle Revue Francaise 3 (1956) 884 ff.; M. Luthi, Das europaische Volksmarchen (Munich 19786) 105. On the Odyssey in this perspective: H. Petersmann, Homer und das Miirchen, WS 15 (1981) 43-68; R. Mastromattei, La freccia di Odysseus, QUCC 29 (1988) 7-22. On fixed mythemes and imageries as conventional epic patterns ready to be inserted whenever necessary: G. Crane, The Odyssey and Conventions of the Heroic Quest, GiAnt 6 (1987) 11-37; idem, Calypso. Backgrounds and Conventions of the Odyssey (Frankfurt a. Main 1988).
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duction into the new approach of myth and ritual, and in which more arguments are advanced than those briefly quoted here-the wooden horse as the hobby-horse of initiation rites, for instance. And after that one should continue and read Auffarth 1991, a considerably heavier but equally provocative work on the same theme with a different approach. The second reason is that by following this course we might be tempted (once again) to reduce mechanically all myths of this genre from the whole world to one relatively narrow ritual scheme. "It would be possible, and indeed easy, to find parallels in myth and ritual for every incident in the Odyssey'', says Lord Raglan in The Hero, referring to sacral kingship. We have seen the upshot of such statements and their underlying arguments: practically nobody believes in his theory anymore. An identical kind ofreasoning is now applied to the Odyssey and initiation, and now, too, everything always seems to tally. Here, as an illustration, is a contribution by the present author: Penelope is a girl in the initiatory phase. For, as we know, in this period girls are generally locked up in secret rooms to practice, by night, women's handicrafts (spinning in the first place). Mythical relics of aggressive men bursting in upon women and destroying their handwork are known from various cultures, prenuptial licence occurring as well in this context: the girls are assaulted and have to give in 148 • Q.E.D. In the same way, however, it might be proved that Alexander the Great is a super initiation candidate: young, unmarried, adventurous journey in far-off lands, (homo) sexual appetite, war, danger, victory, (mass) marriage. And it would be even more perfect if we were allowed to include the Alexander romances with their fairy-tale elements. Meanwhile a problem comes into view. How are we to explain that an 'Odyssey pattern' shows itself in so many myths, fairy tales and stories, if we are not prepared to trace this pattern invariably back
148 Handworking during the night and male aggression: A. Slawik, Wiener Beitriige zur Kulturgeschichte und Linguistik 4 (1936) 737 ff.; Peuckert, o.c. (above n.90) 253. Licence: D. Zelenin, Russische (Ostslawische) Volkskunde (Berlin 1927) 337 ff.; E. Gasparini, Nozze, societa e abitazione degli antichi Slavi (Venice 1954) 22 f. Cf. Eliade 1975, 46. Generally: H. Rey-Flaud, Le charivari. Les rituelsfondamentaux de Ia sexualite (Paris 1985). Jan Bremmer reminds me that Burkert 1966 has indeed, in an aside, suggested a connection between the handwork of the Arrhephoroi and the peplos of Penelope. On the literary function of Penelope's action: A. Heubeck, Penelopes Webelist, WJA 11 (1985) 33-43.
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either to the 'New Year complex' or to the 'initiation complex' or even to any ritual whatsoever? In order to look for a tentative answer to this question we now turn to Walter Burkert for the second time. It is he who can guide us, by way of an approach we have not yet discussed. 6.
EPPURE SI MUOVE . . . : MYTH AND RITUAL PARI PASSU
In 1970 Burkert published a paper entitled 'Iason, Hypsipyle and New Fire at Lemnos: A Study in Myth and Ritual>1 49 . Kirk's critical studies had not yet appeared at the time, but monolithic myth and ritual theories had already been sufficiently subjected to criticism. Burkert, too, conceded whole-heartedly that there exist myths without a rite, and rites without a myth, that we know of aetiological myths of the most trite variety, and that it is out of the question, therefore, that myth should always be connected with ritual. Still, there exist complexes-such as the Arrhephoria complex he had discussed before-in which the connection is so close that the observer feels spurred on to consider the matter afresh. One such complex is that of the women ofLemnos 150 . According to myth, Aphrodite inflicted them with an unbearable stench as punishment for some offense. The result was that their husbands refused to have intercourse with them and took Thracian girls as concubines. Not a little vexed at this behaviour, the women-all except one-murdered the men in their immediate surroundings, thus condemning themselves to sexual continence. The Argonauts put in at the island on their return voyage and having met nothing much but dragons for some time restored order: thereafter the demographic balance was set right again. The ritual orders all Lemnian fires to be extinguished once a year; during the period of nine days without fire, offerings are to be made to subterranean gods, after which new fire is to be brought by ship from Delos and all fires may be lit again. A brief note in a later gloss links myth and rite emphatically: once a year the women of Lemnos are said to keep men off by chewing Burkert 1970 = 1990, 60-76. Here, too, a predecessor had noticed the essentials: G. Dumezil, Le crime des Lemniennes (Paris 1924). Cf. Detienne 1972, 172-84, who, from a structuralist point of view, arrives at comparable conclusions. For some recent reconsiderations on the Lemnian fire see: P. Y. Forsyth, Lemnos Reconsidered, EMC 28 (1984) 3-14; R. P. Martin, Fire on the Mountain: Lysistrata and the Lemnian Women, ClAnt, 6 (1978) 77-99. 149 15 0
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garlic. This is a striking parallel indeed and the 'message' is clear in both: lack of fire means disorganization of social life (no hearth fire, no bread, no work for blacksmiths and potters, no burnt offerings, no communication, therefore, with the gods), it is a period of standstill and stagnation, typical of the transition to the New Year, and the myth represents this sterile, asocial aspect in its own way. In both fields there is an atmosphere of menace and death. How are we to explain this parallelism, which even Kirk 151 was later prepared to acknowledge? What came first, myth or ritual? Burkert refuses to answer this question, since in his words, it' 'transcends philology, since both myth and ritual were established well before the invention of writing" (p.14). In his conclusion, though, he hints more than once that myth and ritual, in the final analysis, derive from one single origin, for instance when he maintains that myth may become independent of ritual (p .14) or when he stresses the importance of myths for the reconstruction of rites: "Myth, being the plot, may indicate connections between rites which are isolated in our tradition" (p.14). Anyway, rite is considered a necessary means of communication and solidarity within a social group. Feigned fear and agression may prevent real disaster. Myth, however, does the same with different means. Here too the theme is menace and death, but now the victims are human beings, whereas the ritual confines itself to animals: "only the myth carries, in phantasy, to the extreme what, by ritual, is conducted into more innocent channels" (p.16) 152 . This is a theme Burkert has elaborated in a fascinating way in his theory of the origin of the tragedy, which I am not going to discuss here 153 . At the same time, and above all, we recognize here guarded, tentative phrases that immediately remind us of Harrison's second myth and ritual relation-"they arise pari passu" - , notably in the shape it was given by some of the anthropologists quoted above, Kluckhohn above all. This impression is confirmed when we turn to 151 Kirk 1974, 246: "It stands out, then, as the one clear case in the whole range of Greek heroic myths - with the Cecropides tale as a weaker ally - in which the myth-and-ritual theory is vindicated''. 152 Cf. idem, Gnomon 44 (1972): "Rituale, dramatisch-theatralische Mitteilung im Spannungsfeld biologisch sozialer Antinomie. So tritt eine tiefere Parallelitiit zum Mythos zu Tage". 153 Burkert 1966a = 1990, 13-39; idem 1983. Independently, J.-P. Guepin, The Tragic Paradox (Diss. Amsterdam 1968) had arrived at comparable conclusions, although there are important differences as well.
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Burkert's 'Griechische Mythologie und die Geistesgeschichte der Moderne', a treatise published in 1980 15 4, and find that with regard to the myth and ritual relation Harrison and the anthropologists are quoted emphatically and with approval, criticism is relegated to a footnote, and Kirk-in this connection, that is-is not even mentioned. It is a succinct, albeit extremely scholarly and informative survey, and the reader has the feeling that the author has more to say. He did so indeed in the 1977 Sather Lectures mentioned above, which were published in 1979 and came on the market more or less simultaneously with this treatise. Here for the first time the essence of myth and the essence of rite were investigated and described in a way that had not been pursued in this context ever before. In dealing with myth Burkert takes as a starting point the structural approach to the fairy tale narrative inaugurated by V. Propp and simplified and transformed later by others 155 . According to Propp, all Russian fairy tales of a certain category were found to consist of sequences of thirty-one elements (functions, motifemes), a number that strikes us as sufficiently arbitrary to have been discovered, not imposed 156 . In point of fact A. Dundes, in his introduction to the latest edition, points out that Propp follows an empirical, inductive method (which Dundes calls syntagmatic), that stands in stark contrast to the speculative, deductive (paradigmatic) approach of the structuralist par excellence Claude Levi-Strauss. Whereas the latter starts from hypothetical polar oppositions, trying to place everything within this structure, Propp simply describes the linear order of narrative elements he perceives again and again. The final twenty elements of Propp's collection have been summed up by Burkert as follows: there is an instruction, a task to go in search of something (something lost) and to get it, the hero gathers relevant information, decides to set out upon the quest, starts on his way, meets with others, either helpers or enemies, there is a change of scenery,
Burkert 1980. V. ]. Propp, Morphology of the Folktale (Austin-London 1973 2). For other works of this scholar see above n.112. I can only give a rough summary of Burkert's ideas and he does not follow Propp in every respect. 156 In contradistinction to Hocart's 26 elements of royal coronation (above p.37). Although it is true that, provided one skips some doublets, the Russian alphabet appears to consist of 31 letters, even in the original Russian edition the 31 motifemes are not indicated with letters. 154 155
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the object is found and taken possession of by force or by cunning, it is brought back, the hero being chased by the adversary, success is there, the hero comes off triumphant. It is this linear aspect in particular that strongly appeals to Burkert, who has no use for Levi-Strauss' algebra 157 and, therefore, does not show any appreciable affinity with the approaches of V ernant or Detienne either. Numerous other schemes have already been suggested as an organizational principle of fairy tales and the like 158 , but none as short as Burkert's proposal. In point of fact Propp's entire scheme-and many other patterns as well, for there are more, of course-may be summarized in one verb: 'to get'. What have we got, after all? Nothing but a program of action, elaborated into a narrative and varied through a number of transformations-a program derived directly from life, from biology. For what the hero does in Propp's schema is essentially similar to what the rat does when-driven by hunger-it goes in search of prey and returns with the spoils, having escaped the street urchin's stones, the eat's jaws and envious fellow-rats. The identical pattern may be transposed to the world of the primates in that stage in which food could only be obtained by way of long marches, hunting or gathering, which involved the most horrible dangers outside the relative safety of the settlement. It is not possible, even approximately, to do justice to the very scholarly discourse, which shows a marked receptiveness to the new doctrine of sociobiology. I note the conclusion: ''Tale structures, as sequences of motifemes, are founded on basic biological or cultural programs of action" (p.18). In the second chapter Burkert deals with ritual. Here he has already been preceded by several others on the avenue which he wants to take himself and which proves to lead to biology once more. From other scholars, ranging from Julian Huxley to Konrad Lorenz 159 , !57 See for instance his amusing treatment of this type of structuralism in Burkert 1979, 10 ff. For a recent attack on the imposition of modern Western binary classificatory principles on anthropological data, especially ritual, see: S. Tcherkezoff, Dual Classification Reconsidered: Nyamwezi Sacred Kingship and Other Examples (Cambridge 1987). 158 For instance in A. G. Dundes, The Morphology of North American Indian Folktales (Helsinki 1964): Lack-Lack Liquidated: Task-Task Accomplished; DeceitDeception; Interdiction-Violation-Consequence-Attempted Escape. 159 K. Lorenz, Das sogenannte Bose: Zur Naturgeschichte der Aggression (Vienna 1963, 197025 ). English translation: On Aggression (New York 1966). Burkert 1979, 35 ff.; idem, Glaube und Verhalten: Zeichengehalt und Wirkungsmacht von
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he borrows the definition of ritual: "Ritual is action redirected for demonstration". With many animal species living socially it has been found that certain types of group behaviour possessed an evidently biological function originally, but became detached from their origin and acquired a new function: that of a communication signal, the effect of which is binding on the group 160 . These ritual acts are highly stereotyped, are repeated 161 and exaggerated, often manifested in theatrical and dramatic forms, and are pre-eminently social actions. K. Meuli 162 had already observed that with humans, too, ritual behaviour might become divorced from its original roots and acquire some new function fostering solidarity, such as mourning behaviour. Sociologists and anthropologists in their turn have said repeatedly and in various contexts that the integration of the group is maintained primarily by ritual means. Opferritualen, in: Le sacrifice dans l'antiquite (Entretiens Hardt XXVII, Geneva 1981) 91-125. Already in the period in which this was written and ever more in the decade that followed there has been much criticism of the view that human agressiveness is a basic feature in and of society. In later works Burkert (Burkert 1983, 1 f.; Hammerton-Kelly 1987) has acknowledged this. Here is his response in "Burkert iiber Burkert", Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung 3-8-1988, p.30: "Es mag sein, class das iiberwiiltigende Interesse unserer Gesellschaft an der Diimpfung, ja Beseitigung der Aggression zum Filter geworden ist, der U nbequemes nicht passieren liisst: es ware zu bedenken, class Ausnahmezustiinden "starken Empfindens", Begeisterung ebenso wie Panik, durch die sozialwissenschaftliche Standardmethode des Fragebogens kaum zu erfassen sind; es mag auch sein class die Art der Interaktionen heutzutage durch die Revolution der Medien in der Tat veriindert wird .... "On the other hand, it may also be that recent experiences in the Arabian desert, in Yugo-Slavia, or in the weekly gladiatorial shows on the benches of our soccer arenas simply prove that Burkert-and, worse, Lorenz-was essentially right after all. In this context the works by R. Girard, whatever the value of their central thesis, still stimulate reflection. See his contribution to Hammerton-Kelly 1987. On his ideas see: P. Dumouchel (ed.), Violence et verite: autour de Rene Girard (Colloque de Cerisy, Paris 1985); Chr. Orsini, La pensee de Rene Girard (Paris 1986); G. Baudler, Am Anfangwar das Wort, oderder Mord? Die Faszination des Lebens und die Faszination der Tiitungsmacht am Ursprung der Religion, ZKTh 111 (1989) 45-56. For criticism see: R. Gordon, Reason and Ritual in Greek Tragedy. On Rene Girard, Violence and the Sacred, and Marcel Detienne, The Gardens ofAdonis, Comparative Criticism 1 (1979) 279-310. 160 Douglas 1973; K. Lorenz, A Discussion on Ritualization of Behaviour in Animals and Man, Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society London, Ser. B. 251 (1966) 247-526;]. Eibl-Eibesfeldt, Der vorprogrammierte Mensch. Das Ererbte als bestimmender Faktor im menschlichen Verhalten (Vienna 1973, 19762). 161 Repetition is one of the most essential principles in ritual: J. Cazeneuve, Le principe de repetition dans le rite, Cahiers internationaux de sociologie 23 (1957) 42-62; Di Nola 1974, 94-144. 16 2 Especially in: Entstehung und Sinn der Trauersitten, Schweizerische Archiv fur Volkskunde 43 (1946) = Meuli 1975 I, 333-51.
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A great number of ritual customs are interpreted by Burkert as ritualized, therefore stereotyped and 'degenerate' biological actions. We knew that the Olympian sacrifice should be understood as a relic from palaeolithic hunting customs 163 , but it may come as a surprise to many a reader to learn that the ritual of pouring out oil on to a sacred stone derives, in the final analysis, from the canine habit of demarcating territory. Whether such detailed interpretations are convincing or not, what is interesting is the consequences of these two views for myth and ritual, at least for the types of myth and ritual we are discussing in the present section. If we consider them in the light of Burkert's recent theories, we will soon notice that we are dealing with a single phenomenon with two aspects: both myth and ritual are 'programs of action', both have a biological background involving transformations of action patterns bearing immediately upon the most essential needs, crises and dilemmas of animal and primitive human existence, both have become detached from their origins, both now primarily serve communication and solidarization. Myth (the myths at issue) is the verbal expression, rite (the rites at issue) a reflection in action, of essentially identical situations and their inherent psychic emotions. For the first time an impressive attempt has been made to underpin Harrison's second option theoretically. There are myths and rites that are so closely connected that many of us had already been under the impression that these, at any rate, must have some common origin. This is by no means true of all myths and rites, and it may even only hold for a small minority. But where there is such a plausible connection we now have at least a well-argued theory as to roughly how this parallelism might have arisen. 7.
PROSPECTS
So far I have essentially done no more than arrange, describe and, to a lesser degree, evaluate. The fact that the critical aspect was emphasized more forcibly in the latter part of the discussion may be explained by the fact that the first phase of the myth and ritual theory had long been concluded and assessed, whereas the most recent approach is still in full swing. That is why critical observations can certainly be useful, but never definitive. I do not want to con163
K. Meuli, Griechische Opferbriiuche
Meuli 1975 II, 907-1021.
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elude, however, without once more gathering in the lines we have observed so far. The resultant synthesis may no doubt strike the reader as sweeping. To make matters worse, the lack of space prevents me from arguing more specifically. However, a few illustrations of what I mean will be given in later chapters. What I have to offer here is thus nothing but a tentative, somewhat intuitive suggestion that enables me to return to those complexes that up to now had been felt to be mutually exclusive: the myth and ritual complex of the New Year-sacral king-dying and rising god, on the one hand, and that of initiation, on the other. Let us concentrate exclusively on the two complexes we have discussed-we might conceive of others, of course, but not many nor such easily recognizable ones-and consider the following questions: What might be the reason that in the head of one person, Jane Harrison, the notions of two complexes could exist one after or beside the other, the divine protagonists changing effortlessly from one complex into the next (Megistos Kouros, Dionysos)? How can we explain that some enthusiasts trace back the entire world-wide mythology to one myth and ritual complex, whereas others are reducing a considerable number of myths to the other complex? How is it that some New Year specialists time and again point out resemblance, affinity or relation with initiation ideology, whereas initiation specialists are repeatedly drawing parallels with New Year elements? 164 What do we infer from the fact that a myth and ritual theorist of the old stamp, A.M. Hocart, wrote a book about coronation rites of kings, whereas a representative of the recent trend, J. N. Bremmer, is seen to waver between boys' initiation and royal initiation? 16 4 For these associations see for instance Burkert 1966, 25: "In den Initiationsriten erneuert sich das Leben der Gemeinschaft, in den daraus gewachsenen Neujahrsriten erneuert sich die Ordnung der Polis''. Cf. idem on the legend of Romulus in: Historia 11 (1962) 356 ff.; Bremmer 1978b, 33 f. on elements oflustration as features of New Year festival and initiation; Eliade 1975 passim, especially ch. XII, XIII, p. 48; idem, TheMythojtheEterna!Return(NewYork 1954)62-73; Nouvel An, peau neuve, Le CourierS (1955) 7-32. In Egypt the coronation (initiation) ofthe new king is seen as the beginning of a new aeon and a new year: J. Bergman, Ich bin Isis (U ppsala 1968) 212 ff.
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Why is it that both types of approach claim primeval images like the flood 165 and man-eating monsters 166 , beside numerous other elements such as role and status reversal, experience of 165 There are relatively few examples of the primeval flood as a signal of initiation. Generally, the deluge theme is pre-eminently the image of chaos, seen as the obstacle to kosmos. The latter can only come to being after the victory over the chaotic deluge, a victory that is generally celebrated on New Year's day. Meuli 1975 I, 283-99, concludes: "Jene 'regeneration totale du temps' ist von alten Volkern begriffen und dargestellt worden als das Auftauchen einer neuen, reinen Welt aus den Wassern der Sintflut" and he gives a substantiation of this statement in Meuli 1975 II, 1041 ff. The same ideas already in: H. Usener, Sintflutsagen (Bonn 1899) 36 ff. Cf. also: G. Piccaluga, Lycaon (Rome 1968) 69; Burkert 1983, index s.v. 'Flood'; J. Rudhardt, Les mythes grecs relatifs a l'instauration du sacrifice. Les roles correlatifs de Promethee et de son fils Deucalion, MH 27 (1970) 1-15; idem, Le theme de l'eau primordiale dans la mythologie grecque (Bern 1971 ). For a full discussion of the Greek material see: G. A. Caduff, AntikeSintjlutsagen (Gottingen 1986): relationship with New Year festival: 229, 246, 255-8, 275 f. (with documentation), connection with initiation: 276 (without documentation). I agree with his predilection for a more general interpretation of the victory over the Flood as a guarantee of "Ordnung". The theme has a central function in Near Eastern mythology: J. G. Frazer, Folklore in the Old Testament I (London 1918) 104-360, in the revised edition by Theodor H. Gaster, Myth, Legend, and Custom in the Old Testament (New YorkLondon 1969, 19752) 82-130; A.]. Wensinck, The Ocean in the Literature of the Western Semites (Amsterdam 1918); 0. Kaiser, Die mythische Bedeutung des Meeres in Aegypten, Ugarith und Israel (Berlin 1962 2); J. P. Lewis, A Study of the Interpretation of Noah and the Flood in jewish and Christian Literature (Leiden 1968, 1978 2). Generally on the symbolism of the Flood: H. Gollob, Chrysaor. Mit einem Anhange uber die Sintjlutsage (Vienna 1956). Cf. also the literature cited by Smith 1978, 98, and more recently on the "most studied narrative ever": A. Dundes (ed.), The Flood Myth (Berkeley 1988). 166 On man-eating monsters and anthropophagy as symptoms of initiation: Bremmer 1978, 16 f. Cannibalism as a sign of (recurrent) periods of chaos and disturbance of order: A. J. Festugiere, Etudes de religion grecque et hellinistique (Paris 1972) 145 ff.; M. Detienne, Dionysos mis d mort (Paris 1977) 5-60; C. Grottanelli, The Enemy King is a Monster. A Biblical Equation, SSR 3 (1979) 5 ff.; Versnel 1980, 591, and see below ch. II (p.94). Chr. Sourvinou-Inwood, BIGS 33 (1986) 42 n.22, gives an extensive bibliography. Until very recently it was generally assumed that anthropophagy was practised, at least for ritual-cultic purposes, in prehistoric times. See for instance: H. Matjeka, Anthropophagie in der priihistorischen Ansiedlung bei Knowize und in der priihistorischen Zeit iiberhaupt, Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft Wien 26 (1896) 129 ff.; W. Coblenz, Bandkeramischer Kannibalismus in Zauschwitz, Ausgrabungen und Funde 7 (1962) 67 ff.; J. Kneipp & H. Buttner, Anthropophagie in der jiingsten Bandkeramik der Wetterau, Germania 66 (1988) 489-97; R. Tannahill, Flesh and Blood. A History of the Cannibal Complex (1975). This belief is also professed in Hammerton-Kelly 1987, index s. v. Recently, however, serious doubts have been expressed. See for instance: Nature 348 (29 nov. 1990) 395. The theories about cannibalism in Minoic Greece suffered the same fate: Hughes 1991, 18-24. This, of course, does not mean that W. Arens, The Man-Eating Myth: Anthropology and Anthropophagy (Oxford 1979) is right in rejecting all testimonies of man eating. Cf. R. Rosaldo in: Hammerton-
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anarchy, and so forth, for their own complex? 167 How is one to explain that both can refer to world-wide materials, and, finally, how is it that so much attention was and still is paid to these two myth and ritual patterns and relatively little to others? Now let us just give specific form to these questions once more. In the sequence of the epic of the Odyssey and the story of Troy connected with it, the hero leaves his country, has to wander, to wage war far from home, takes Troy by means of a stratagem, is threatened by water (sea), by man-eating and other monsters, returns home, is menaced again, is finally triumphant and becomes king (again). If we had been obliged to decide, after reading the second section of the present chapter, which pattern had been transformed into a myth in this case, would not the New Year pattern offall and return of the sacral king and the battling god have been an obvious choice? It was this choice that was made long ago by Lord Raglan and others, witness the way he manages to fit all details into his pattern. And if we had been asked the same question after the reading of section five, would we not have hesitated to answer the question, because the story, when you come to think of it, fits very well into the initiatory scheme as well? Meanwhile, the reason for all this has become abundantly clear, and so the questions asked above have been essentially answered. Both situations, that of the New Year and that of initiation, have a firmly related ritual and social function and follow, in essence, identical basic patterns: the old situation has to be taken leave of (symbol of death, fall, farewell: the separation); there is a period of transition between old and new (sojourn in death, underworld, labyrinth, Kelly 1987, 240: "I have spent three years in northern Luzon living with a group who are headhunters. Their headhunting is vastly exaggerated and overreported, but they do headhunt; there is no question about that''; cf. also: G. Weiss, Elementarreligionen (Vienna-New York 1987) 142-59. Recently, T. D. White, Prehistoric Cannibalism at Mancos 5MTUMR-2346 (Princeton U .P. Laurenceville 1992) has reopened the discusion and established cannibalism in a Colorado pueblo of around 1100 AD. !67 It cannot be said that the fairy tales in which persons are swallowed up by a whale or dragon are necessarily connected with initiation ritual. For the widespread occurrence of this motif see: W. Fauth, Utopische Inseln in den 'Wahren Geschichten' des Lukian, Gymnasium 86 (1979) 49 ff.; U. Steffen, Das Mysterium von Tod und Auferstehung: Formen und Wandlungen desjona-Motivs (Gottingen 1963); idem, Drachenkampf Der Mythos vom Biisen (Stuttgart 1984); N. Forsyth, The Old Enemy: Satan and the Combat Myth (Princeton UP 1987).
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flood, foreign countries, a monster's belly: the marge); the new situation is accepted (rebirth, resurrection, reinvestiture, return and reintegration: the agrigation). That one complex is embedded in a process of nature, the other in a social passage, is, seen from a structural point of view, not immediately relevant. What matters is the close relationship in the typically transitional situations and the mythical symbols in which they find their expression. Here I could stop. I have suggested a tentative explanation for both the radical substitution and the persistent thematic intertwining in the history of the two major theories of myth and ritual of the last hundred years. Functional and (consequently) structural analogies are responsible. Hence acceptance of one of the theories does not entail the need to reject dogmatically the other one. However, what we have not considered so far is the question of what urged human culture to ritualize the two related passages so emphatically and, more precisely, why this was expressed in imagery which was so closely related, if not identical. In other words, if we accept that periods of transition-i.e. crisis-are inherent in natural and social life, and that they naturally provoke similar reactions, we still have not elucidated the bafflingjormal similarities in the ritual and mythical expressions. I would therefore not like to end without making a few suggestions. They should be seen, however, as an encore: what follows has no strict dependence of the previous argument. This argument has its starting point in the similarity of the two myth and ritual complexes. Burkert's recent work has not yet been taken account of in the discussion. So let us now take the ultimate step: suppose we had not been asked the question about the interpretation of the Odysseus story until after reading section 6. Would we not be inclined to class it under the head of Propp's narrative structure and-as the next step-to consider, with Burkert, whether the story reveals references to deep-rooted biological and cultural schemes of action? If one checks it, again everything fits. That would mean that we have reached a deeper level of interpretation, which does not supersede the other two but supports and envelops them. We might conceive of it in this way: the most elementary and primordial scheme of (originally bio-sociological) functions has been conserved and transformed, in ritualized and mythicized form, at precisely those points where human society experiences primal crisis most intensely. Apart from incidental calamities like epidemics, wars, earthquakes and floods, these are precisely the critical and
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painful moments of transition that are experienced nowhere more keenly than during initiatory periods and at the turning points of the agricultural or social year. In this way the structural relationship between these two 'crises' and their mythical-ritual representations is now placed in a historical evolutionary perspective. This seems to be implied in Burkert's clearly evolved view 168 . The author of 'Kekropidensage und Arrhephoria: vom Initiationsritus zum Panathenaenfest' now writes (1979, 57): "The pattern called 'the girl's tragedy' can [my italics H.S.V] be interpreted as reflecting initiation rituals; but these, in turn, are demonstrative accentuations of biologically programed crises, menstruation, defloration, pregnancy, birth''. In the latter study, Odysseus and the Cyclops no longer have anything to do with initiation. Instead, they are related to very remote reminiscences from even palaeolithic action patterns ( cf. the lance tempered in the fire). And when Burkert discusses phenomena of role reversal and sexual submission (pp. 29-30), initiation is found to play only a marginal role in the predominantly biologically oriented argument (apes also offer themselves in an act of submission Y69 . No doubt not everybody who is perhaps prepared to acknowledge 168 One perceives traces of a shift in the frame of interpretation in later works of Burkert. Burkert 1980, 184, discusses the overtly Freudian theory of 0. Rank, Der Mythos der Geburt des Heiden (Vienna 1909), in which the 'Aussetzung- und Riickkehrformel' is traced back to the 'father-son conflict'. Burkert considers this "eine der solidest en Leistungen" and states: "dies leuchtet wei thin ein". The implications of this assessment are crucial: one of the traditional ingredients of the initiation theory has been detached from this context and is now exploited in a different type of interpretation. Very interesting on the neurobiological origins of the connections between myth and ritual: E. G. d'Aquili, Ch. D. Laughlinjr,J. McManus, The Spectrum of Ritual. A Biogenetic Structural Analysis (New York 1979). More recently on the motif of exposure in legend and folk tale: Bremmer 1987b, 30, who now also seeks the function of this element outside the sphere of initiation. Cf. also Auffarth 1991,457 . .. 169 Before Burkert this issue was already discussed by D. Fehling, Ethologische Uberlegungen auf dem Gebiet der Altertumskunde (Munich 1974) 18 ff.: "Kopulationsverhalten als Rangdemonstration", which has been supplemented by recent studies on the social function of 'institutionalized homosexuality'. Though no doubt often connected with initiation-ritual, its application generally exceeds the strict boundaries of the period of initiation. Homosexual subjection appears to have a broader function as a powerful component of social hierarchy: it supports the status and position of older men over and against women and young men. See: G. W. Creed, Sexual Subordination: Institutionalized Homosexuality and Social Control in Melanesia, Ethnology 23 (1984) 157-76, and bibliographical references there; G. Herdt (ed.), Ritualized Homosexuality in Melanesia (Berkeley-Los Angeles 1984); idem, The Sambia. Ritual and Gender in New Guinea (1987).
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the structural affinity of the two complexes is willing to take this ultimate step. I would repeat that I consider it as no more than a suggestion, a suggestion, though, that deserves serious consideration. In a series of books-especially The Hero with a Thousand Faces (1949, 197 52) - , that have come in for a good deal of discussion, J. Campbell deals with a mythical complex 'the adventure of the hero', whose structure he outlines as follows: 1. departure; 2. initiation; 3. return. This is a familiar scheme by now, but what is interesting is that Campbell proceeds totally independently of the scholars referred to above. He interprets the entire scheme with the help of Freud and Jung above all in terms of depth psychology, citing material from dreams. How these images get into our dreams is not explained, at least not explicitly, and here the recent movement of socio-biology, despite the criticisms it has received, might well be revelatory 170 . !70 M. Eliade 1975, 128 (with a very hazy note on p. 165) suggests that the initiation scheme was prior and landed in dreams and myths, whereas at the same time he nevertheless concedes that ''every human life is made up of a series of ordeals, of 'deaths' and of' resurrections' ". But if this is so, it is far more likely that these ordeals common to human life have given shape to both the initiation scenario and-independently-to the materials dreams and myths are made of. See on this and similar questions: H. von Beit, Symbolik des Miirchens. Versuch einer Deutung (Bern 1952) and Enzyklopadie des Miirchens s. v. 'Aufgabe', where, conversely, the unfeasible assignment known from fairy tales is seen as the reflection of 'Alptraumerfahrungen'. Nor is it very likely that Snow White has borrowed her seven dwarfs from initiation ritual: H. Bausinger, Anmerkungen zu Schneewittchen, in: H. Bracker!~ed. ), Und wenn sie nicht gestorben sind . .. Perspektiven auf das Miirchen (Frankfurt 1982 ) 39-70. What Campbell omits has been made up by G. J. Baudy: Exkommunikation und Reintegration. Zur Genese und Kulturfunktion.fruhgriechischer Einstellungen zum Tod (Frankfurt 1980). He offers a psycho-ethological explanation of deep-seated fears, for instance the fear of voracious monsters, interpreting them as relics of primates' primordial fear of the 'Artfeind' (the praedator; cf. in the same vein: d' Aquili et alii o.c. [above n.168]178: "When ritual works [ ... ] it powerfully relieves man's existential anxiety and, at its most powerful, relieves him of the fear of death and places him in harmony with the universe''). On p. 33 f. he juxtaposes the initiand, who is in danger of being swallowed up, and the fairy tale hero in the same situation, as I have done, but does not suggest an evolutionary link between the two. On pp. 250 ff., however, he wishes to trace the fairy tale motif back to initiation (specifically, the shamanistic scenario), which seems unnecessary to me. Obviously similar problems of origin emerge in different fields: it is the basic problem of Freud's Oedipus theory. It plays an important role in the discussion between Henrichs and Winkler (above n.144), where the latter-! think convincinglyrefers to "patterns of narrative, the basic plots and formulae of popular entertainment'', without, however, inquiring into the origins of these patterns. It also figures in the discussion between F. Ranke, Kleinere Schrijten (Bern-Munster 1971 ), who explains the popular fancies of the 'Wilde Heer' as "innerseelische Vorgange
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As regards our two myth and ritual complexes we thus find that what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, which is probably due to the fact that both sauces are prepared by the same cook, who works with only one recipe. The primordial 'crisis', which is experienced continuously in the risks of daily ventures, has a stemtyped program: leaving the relative safety of the familiar environment-setting out for sheer superhuman enterprises and unspeakable dangers in a marginal landscape marked by monsters and every sort of nameless terror, often to the very limits of death-returning in triumph. These indispensable, successive actions are reflected in the imagery of our two complexes and in fairy tales and myths of the Odyssey type. Equating the sauces of goose and gander does not necessarily disqualify either of them. Nor does it entail a depreciation of the remarkable progress made in our field through the recent shift in our model of interpretation, as I hope to have made clear and shall further elucidate in later chapters. While, as I remarked in the Introduction, in the natural sciences some implications of Kuhn's concept of 'paradigm' are liable to criticism, the concept has proved helpful in analysing developments in the social sciences. However, it has been pointed out recently that in this sector paradigms are, as a rule, not radically exclusive. This tolerance has awarded anthropology the qualification: 'polyparadigmatic'. And this is exactly my point. Though the new paradigm introducing the social interpretation of myth and ritual has cleared the way for explanations that were unheard of in the first half of this century,-I am especially referring to the application of the concept of 'marginality', both in the rites of initiation and in the festivals of reversal-, the new model by no means completely eradicates or replaces the old one. First, I would not (and did not) deny that the presence of the two patterns described by the myth and ritual theorists can actually be demonstrated. What I oppose is the totalitarian, monolithic interpretation
des numini:isen Erlebnis" (especially as manifest in hysteria, epilepsy, etc.) and his fierce opponent 0. Hoffler, Verwandlungskulte, Volkssagen und Mythen (Sitz. Ber. Oesterr. Ak. Wiss. Phil.-hist. Kl. 279 [1973]), who traces this 'wild army' back to historical, culticjungmannschaften. It is also present in the discussion on the origins of the Eleusinian and other mysteries. See for instance on the ambivalence of human initiation and agricultural fertility as the ultimate background of the mysteries: G. Casadio, Per un'indagine storico-religiosa sui culti di Dioniso in relazione alia fenomenologia dei misteri I, SSR 6 (1982) 209-34.
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of such mythical patterns from the point of view of just one of the complexes. Secondly, I do not doubt that there are myths which, in the final analysis, go back to some New Year scenario, nor that there are myths which derive their origin from initiatory schemes. However, I think it unlikely that all the stories with the scenario described above have developed in either one of these ways. Anyone who goes to such lengths, while still acknowledging that everywhere-in both complexes and in a great mass of myths, fairy tales, stories (and dreams) from all over the world-we can discern a more or less identical basic pattern, has the right if not the duty to try to find an explanation for this phenomenon. Perhaps this can be done without the help of recent ethological and biological insights, but it may be better to try to incorporate them. In any case-and that was my chief aim-we can understand now why the champions of the two complexes have so often encroached upon each others' territories. To return to the Odysseus theme, I, for one, think that an origin in some New Year scenario is less plausible than a descent from some initiatory scenario. Much more plausible than either, though, is the interpretation of this story as a variation on the biological-cultural program of action, which may have been carried over into both complexes and which, independently, has become the material from which dreams, fairy tales and myths of a certain type have been fashioned. Of course, whoever thinks all this much too vague and prefers to sit down and reread the Odyssey itself is right, too. In The Golden Bough IV (1914) p. vii, Frazer sighs: "The longer I occupy myself with questions of ancient mythology, the more diffident I become of success in dealing with them, and I am apt to think that we who spend our years in searching for solutions of these insoluble problems are like Sisyphos perpetually rolling his stone uphill only to see it revolve again into the valley''. This is a pessimistic expression of what I found more hopefully phrased by the anthropologist E.M. Ackerknecht 171 : "If anthropology returns to the comparative method" [and as we have seen, recent developments in the borderland of anthropology and the classics tend in that direction H. S. V.], ''it will certainly not forget what it has learned meanwhile in general and what it has learned about 171 I found this quotation in a book from which I have learned more than I have been able to account for within the scope of this paper: Smith 1978, 264.
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the limitations of the method in particular. It will return only in that spiral movement, so characteristic of scientific thought, arriving after half a century at the same point but at a higher level. It will know better how and what to compare than it knew fifty years ago". Sisyphus' stone rolling but landing at a higher level each time? Let us hope so, even if the stone turns out to obey Zeno's laws.
CHAPTER TWO
KRONOS AND THE KRONIA Ce Cronos, pere de Zeus ( ... ) est un personnage divin fort ambigu. P. Vidal-Naquet
"Myth, in my terminology, is the counterpart of ritual: myth implies ritual, ritual implies myth, they are one and the same"; thus E. Leach takes his stand in a discussion that can have no end 1 . In the previous chapter we have analysed the three possible forms of relationship between myth and ritual. At the beginning of the discussion stands Frazer's definition of myth as 'mistaken explanation' of ritual. An inverse relationship has been postulated by the mythand-ritual school of Hooke and his followers: myth as the scenario for ritual. A third possible explanation for the link between the two was offered by Jane Harrison: "They probably arose together. Ritual is the utterance of an emotion, a thing felt in action, myth in words or thoughts. They arise pari passu''. We have also traced related expressions of the latter view in several more recent anthropological studies. And we have heard the critical voice of G. S. Kirk, who argues that any monolithic theory regarding myth and ritual should be rejected: all three forms of interrelation do indeed occur, but rites without myths and myths without rites outnumber the few instances of interrelated rites and myths. Kirk did have a point, of course, but this clearly did not mean the end of the investigation of myth and ritual. If "myth and ritual do not correspond in details of content but in structure and atmosphere' ' 2 , it is worthwile investigating whether there are indeed any examples at all of a myth and rite operating pari passu as "symbolic processes for dealing with the same type of situation in the same affective mode", as Cl. Kluckhohn expressed it. W. Burkert has done so in recent years with regard to Greece, in his analysis of myth and ritual complexes discussed in the previous chapter.
I
2
For this and similar expressions see above p.40. Thus the formulation by F. Graf, ZPE 55 (1984) 254.
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Although even Kirk has been convinced by Burkert's arguments that in these complexes myths and rites indeed are more or less parallel representations of a certain affective atmosphere surrounding the turn of the year, it cannot be denied that in both complexes strong aetiological components are present too; if the myth does not explain details of the ritual, it does at any rate translate them into words and images. It is my belief that there was in Greece a myth and ritual complex-also related to the transition from the old year to the new-in which myth and rite were indeed formed pari passu, possibly even more clearly so than in the cases just mentioned, and developed as parallel expressions-interrelating ones, it is true, but interrelating in such a subtle and at the same time complicated manner that here at least the rite cannot be taken as example for the myth, nor the myth as scenario for the rite. I am referring to the myth and ritual complex of Kronos and the Kronia3 . 1.
MYTH
The oldest version of the myth of Kronos is also the most complete 4 . Apart from minor additions and variations-in themselves often quite significant-the myth as Hesiod tells it in the Theagony has not changed essentially in the course of time 5 . Here is a short summary: Like Iapetos, Themis, Rhea and others, Kronos belonged to the race of the Titans, children ofOuranos and Ge, the first generation of gods. Kronos hated his father, who had banished his children to the depths of the earth. At their mother's lamentations, only Kronos among the Titans was prepared to take action against his father, and 3 Materials and discussions in: M. Mayer, art. 'Kronos' in: RML II, 1 (1897) 1452-573; M. Pohlenz, Kronos und die Titanen, Neuejahrb. 19 (1916) 549-94; idem, art. 'Kronos' in: RE XI (1921) 1982-2018; U. von Wilamowitz, Kronos und die Titanen, SbBerlin (1929) = Kleine Schriften V, 2 (Berlin 1971 2) 157-83. A very complete recent survey in: W. Fauth, art. 'Kronos' in: Kleine Pauly 3 (1979) 355-64. These authors are cited henceforth by name and year only. 4 A structuralist analysis of the Hesiodic myth: M. Detienne and J.-P. Vernant, Les ruses de !'intelligence. La metis des Crees (Paris 1974) 62-103. A Freudian interpretation,: G. Devereux, La naissance d' Aphrodite, in:J. Pouillon et P. Maranda (edd.), Echanges et communications. Melanges Ct. Levi-Strauss II (The Hague-Paris 1970) 1229-52 (revised version in: idem, Femme et Mythe [Paris 1982] 97-126). 5 For developments of the myth in the Orphic Poems see: M. L. West, The Orphic Poems (Oxford 1983) index s.v.
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with his sickle he cut ('mowed') (181) offOuranos' genitalia. From the resulting drops of blood sprang the races of the Erinyes, the giants and the nymphs. Out of the froth ( = the semen) of the genitalia, which had fallen into the sea, Aphrodite was born. Next, Kronos and his sister/spouse Rhea produced children, including the first generation of Olympians, the family of gods currently in power: Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Poseidon, Hades, and lastly Zeus. Kronos, fearing that one of them would overthrow him (462) 'gulped down' all his children immediately after their births (katepine: 459, 467, 473, 497). Rhea, however, brought her last child, Zeus, into the world on Crete, where he grew up hidden in a cave without his father's knowledge. Instead of the baby, Rhea had fed Kronos a stone wrapped in swaddling clothes. Once he had grown up, Zeus forced Kronos to regurgitate the other children; first came the stone, which has been displayed in Delphi ever since6 . After this liberation he freed Kronos' brothers, the Cyclopes, who had been chained in the Underworld by their father Ouranos (501); in return for their rescue, the Cyclopes gave Zeus his thunderbolt. The hundredhanded giants were also freed (652, 659) from their subterranean prison at the edge of the world (621/2), where they had been held in heavy irons (618), in order to assist Zeus and the other Olympians in their battle against the Titans 7 . An interpolated passage (Th. 687-712) does, indeed, say that Zeus destroyed the Titans with his thunderbolt, but the authentic text ascribes the victory to the hundred-handed giants, who drove the Titans deep under the earth 6 On the omphalos see most recently: Chr. Sourvinou-Inwood, Myth as History: The Previous Owners of the Delphic Oracle, in: Bremmer 1987a, 215-41, esp. appendix: 233-5; B. Mezzadri, La pierre et le foyer, Metis 2 (1987) 215-20. On its function as the centre of the earth (and the cosmos): E. A. S. Butterworth, The Tree at the Navel of the Earth (Berlin 1970), passim; see index s.v. M. Eliade has explored the idea of the navel of the world in various works, especially in: The Sacred and the Profane (New York 1959) and idem 1964, 316-25. Cf. also the thoughtful study by Smith 1978, 104-28. Recently Ballabriga 1986, ch. I 'Le probleme du centre' questioned the 'centrality' of the Delphic omphalos in Greek representations. According to him, the Greeks related the symbolism of the axis mundi to places outside Greece proper, to the margins of the known world. But I endorse the objections made by H. Vas, Mnemosyne 43 (1990) 254-5. I shall return to the meaning of the omphalos and to the ritual of pouring olive oil on it every day and placing unworked wool on it on festive days (Paus. 10, 24, 6) below pp.142 and 173. 7 The iconographic tradition in: J. Dorig & 0. Gigon, Der Kampf der Cotter und Titanen (Olten und Lausanne 1961). On 'wars of the gods' in general see: B. Gladigow, Strukturprobleme polytheistischer Religionen, Saeculum 34 (1983) 292-304, esp. 298 ff.
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and bound them in strong chains (718). It is true that this part does not say explicitly that Kronos suffered the same fate, but a later passage, in which the monster Typhoeus (who according to the scholiast on Il. 2, 783 is a son of Kronos) waylays Zeus, includes an interpolated line (851 ): "The Titans, in Tartaros, keeping Kronos company". In Erga 168, it is mentioned that Zeus settled the heroes after their deaths at the edges of the earth, where they lead carefree and happy lives on the Islands of the Blessed, where the spelt-giving soil yields a rich harvest three times a year. Verse 169 then continues: "far from the immortals. Among them Kronos is king", and in the subsequent passage it is stated: ''his bonds the father of men and gods had broken''. These verses have long been rejected as interpolations but it has recently been argued 8 that they should be retained since they are in complete concordance with the image of the ideal reign of Kronos, known to Hesiod. I am not qualified to take sides here, but even if it is not Hesiodic, this version must have been known as early as the late archaic era9 , since Pindar is familiar with it (Ol. 2, 70 f.). Since the publication of the Hurrian-Hittite Kumarbi myth in 1945 10 scholars have agreed all but unanimously that Hesiod must have derived important parts of the Kronos myth indirectly from
B M. van der Valk, On the God Cronus, GRBS 26 (1985) 5-11. The same suggestion had been made by B. Lincoln, IF 85 (1980) 152 n.2, who argues that the striking content of this line-that the fallen Kronos was made ruler of paradise by Zeus-led to its suppression in the majority of manuscripts. For some interesting parallels of a 'retired' god in a far away place, especially, on an isle in the Ocean, see: Auffarth 1991, 60 and 96. 9 See: West 1978, ad loc.; Verdenius 1985, ad loc. to See for instance: H. Erbse, Orientalisches und griechisches in Hesiods Theogonie, Philologus 108 (1964) 2-28; A. Heubeck, Mythologische Vorstellungen des Alten Orients im archaischen Griechentum, in: E. Heitsch (ed.), Hesiod (Darmstadt 1966) 545-70, and A. Lesky, Griechischer Mythos und Vorderer Orient ibid. See also above p.31 n.32. The texts in ANET 120-6. Some recent treatments with extensive bibliography: Burkert 1979, 18-22, and his works mentioned in the next note. On the pl'!-.ce of origin: V. Haas, Vorzeitmythen und Giitterberge in altorientalischer und griechischer Uberliejerung (Konstanz 1983). H. Podbielski, Le mythe cosmogonique dans Ia TMogonie d'Hesiode et les rites orientaux, LEG 52 (1984) 207-16, puts forward the parallel with Attis as an argument for the Oriental origin of the castration motif. Likewise the hundred-handed giants may be an oriental motif: K. Gross, Menschenhand und Gotteshand in Antike und Christentum (ed. W. Speyer, Stuttgart 1985) 370-3. On the oriental origin of the myth ofTyphon see: Auffarth 1991, 56 n.2.
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this much older tale. For here Kumarbi castrates his father Anu by biting off his genitalia and becomes pregnant by them with three (or five) children, among whom is the god of the storms, comparable to Zeus. Kumarbi regurgitates all the children except the god of the storms, who emerges by a more or less 'natural' route and dethrones his father. His father makes a final attempt at resistance with the assistance of a monster born from his semen (Ullikummi), but to no avail. The striking resemblance between the two tales has even led to the hypothesis, notably argued by W. Burkert 11 , that the derivation of the Theogony myth from an oriental tradition could not have taken place until the eighth or seventh century, as this was the period in which orientalisation had a much greater impact on the Greek world than scholars have previously been inclined to believe. Parts of the motif are found as early as the Iliad: Kronos is the father of Zeus, Hades and Poseidon (15, 187) and of Hera (5, 721; cf. 4, 59). He resides at ''the limits of the earth and of the sea'', where Iapetus is too. This place is identified with the depths ofTartaros, which "lies around it" (8, 477-80), a subterranean abode to which Zeus has expelled his father and where he remains among the "subterranean gods" (14, 274; cf. 15, 225). Later versions add new elements. In Apollodorus 1, 1 ff., the Kouretes have a secure position as Zeus' protectors. It is by means of an emetic that Kronos is made to vomit; furthermore, he has also fathered the hybrid Cheiron ( 1, 2, 4). Apollodorus does not enlarge on Kronos' whereabouts after his defeat, although it is this aspect in particular that traditionally was enriched elsewhere with stereotyped features, and which right down to Roman times gave rise to 11 W. Burkert, Oriental Myth and Literature in the Iliad, in: R. Hiigg (ed.), The Greek Renaissance of the Eighth Century BC. Tradition and Innovation (Stockholm 1983) 51-6; idem 1984. Burkert argues for a separate origin of two major themes: the Succession myth and the War of the Titans (for a revealing new H urritic- Hittite text see below n.147). Cf. R. Mondi, The Ascension of Zeus and the Composition of Hesiod's Theogony, GRBS 25 (1984) 325-44, who distinguishes two clearly differentiated 'songs' in the works ofHesiod, and F. Solmsen, The Two Near Eastern Sources of Hesiod, Hermes 117 (1989) 413-22, who also pays attention to Hesiod's attempts at unification. Cf. now also the survey by Mondi 1990. Walcot's suggestion that many elements of the myth have more in common with the Mesopotamian than with the Hittite evidence is re-assessed by Auffarth 1991, 123 ff., who argues that Syrian and Asia Minor elements must have amalgamated via Cyprus. However, see the recent criticism ofthese and similar orientalising theories by G. Casadio, QUCC 36 (1990) 163-174 esp. 168 f.
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variation and amplification. This tendency also began with Hesiod. So far the picture has been largely negative. It is a picture that already met with uneasiness and resistance in antiquity: parricide, infanticide-even cannibalism- 12 , rebellion in a ruthless struggle for power, lawlessness and a complete absence of moral standards: all these elements were spotted and-sometimes-condemned 13 . Kronos' stock epithet ankulometes-possibly meaning 'with the curved sickle' originally 14-was generally interpreted as 'with crooked tricks' or 'devious', a negative description; his actions were part of the unbridled excesses of a distant past, his punishment seemed just, his time was over. Apparently the oriental myth was associated with a deity, possibly of pre-Greek origin, who no longer functioned as an active and intervening god. 12 Even allowing for the differentiation in categories of cannibalism as suggested by M. Detienne, Dionysos mis a mort (Paris 1977 [ = Dionysos Slain, BaltimoreLondon 1979]), 133-160, esp. 136. On the horror of cannibalism in the imagination of ancient Greeks and Romans and its use as a tool of invective against deviant religious groups, see the literature above p.81 n.166 and Inconsistencies I, 143 f. Cf. also: Sourvinou-Inwood 1986, 42 n.22; Hughes 1991. For cannibalized children see: A. Henrichs, Human Sacrifice in Greek Religion, in: Le sacrifice dans l'antiquite (Entretiens Hardt XXVII, 1980) 224 ff. On the motif of child sacrifices in connection with Kronos below p.101. Significantly, Kronos' crimes largely concur with the three major violations of the Greek cultural code as analysed by A. Moreau, A propos d'Oedipe. La liaison entre trois crimes, parricide, inceste et cannibalisme, in: Etudes de littirature ancienne (Paris 1979) 97-127, who demonstrates that their combination was experienced as 'le comble de dereglement'. Cf. Parker 1983, 326; Bremmer 1987a, 50 f. with more literature in nn.39 f.; Detienne, o.c.; also: idem, Between Beasts and Gods, in: Gordon 1981, 215-28. Equally significant is the identification of tyranny with these signs of anticultural behaviour by Plato Rep. 571 C-D, discussed by Detienne. Cf. W. Ameling, Tyrannen und Schwangere Frauen, Historia 35 (1986) 507 f. For the Roman view: Scheid 1984. Cf. Inconsistencies I, 53. Cf. also: 0. Longo, Regalidt, polis, incesto nell' Edipo tragico. In: Atti dellegiornate di studio su Edipo. Torino 11-13 aprile1983 (ed. R. Uglione, Torino 1984) 69-83, with special reference to disturbances in family relationships. For cannibalism as a standard ingredient of the definition of alterity in European tradition see: P. Mason, Seduction from Afar: Europe's Inner Indians, Anthropos 82 (1987) 581-601, and generally: W. Arens, The Man-eating Myth. Anthropology and Anthropophagy (New York 1979). Here, too, associations with incest and other types of sexual deviance are rife, as they are for instance collected by A. Pagden, The Fall of Natural Man. The American Indian and the Origins of Comparative Ethnology (Cambridge 1982); B. Bucher, Die Phantasien der Eroberer. Zur graphischen Repriisentation des Kannibalismus in de Brys America. In: K.-H. Hohl (ed.), Berliner Festspiele. Mythen der Neuen Welt. Zur Entdeckungsgeschichte Lateinamerikas (Berlin 1982) 75-91. 13 E.g. Plato Rep. 2, 377E-378D; Euthyphro 5E-6A; Cicero ND 2, 24, 63 ff. 14 See: Lexikon des fruhgriechischen Epos, s. v.; Chantraine, Dictionnaire etymologique de Ia langue grecque, s. v.
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Yet all this is only one side of the matter. There is another, which is the diametrical opposite of this negative picture. First of all, Kronos is king, or to express it more strongly: "Kronos is the king" 15 . The title basileus is stereotypical from Hesiod until late antiquity. Strikingly, Julian Conviv. 317D still makes a distinction between Kronos and Zeus: "0, King Kronos and Father Zeus". Kronos is even presented as the one who introduced the principle of kingship. Hesiod Th. 486, calls him "the first king" and as late as Byzantine times an author says: "Kronos introduced kingship". That nothing negative is implied by the term basileus is apparent from another epithet: megas (great), with which he is commonly qualified in the Iliad, as well as by Hesiod 16 . On the contrary, Kronos' kingdom, which is usually visualised as existing on earth, was a realm of peace, justice and prosperity. Pin dar so strongly associated such benefits with human kingship that he calls the abode to which the pious travel after death, a king's "tower" (Ol. 2, 125 ff.) 17 . Such references bring us to the theme of the Saturnia regna or 'life at the time ofKronos', as the Athenians called the happy period under Peisistratos (Arist. Ath. Pol. 17, 5), the Golden Age at the beginning of time, now irrevocably in the past. This image, too, is familiar even to Hesiod. In his description of the races of men, which perhaps was also derived from oriental myth and seems to have been a tradition unknown to Homer, he says that everything began with the Golden Race (Erga 109-26): people lived like gods, without worry, exertion or suffering. They were not bothered by old age: their limbs were eternally young and they revelled happily (115). Death came like sleep. The earth yielded fruit of its own accord, abundantly and plentifully, and people lived contentedly in the midst of peace and profusion. After their disappearance from the face of the earth they became good daimones, guardians of mortals and bestowers of 15 Thus: Harrison 1912, 495; "Kronos immer basileus genannt": Nilsson GGR I, 511 n.4. In Hesiod: Th. 462,476,486, 491; Erga 111, 169 ff. More references in Pohlenz 1916, 558, and 1921, 1988; Mayer 1897, 1458; on the regime ofKronos, "dasja immer eine Kiinigsherrschaft ist": Gatz 1967, 134, and register A 3a; A 4b. In Or. Syb. I, 292, it is predicted that Kronos will return 'invested with the power of a sceptre-bearing king'. 16 fl. 5, 271; 14, 192 and 243; Hes. Th. 168, 459, 473, 495. 17 Cf. L. Gernet etA. Boulanger, Le genie grec dans La religion (Paris 19702) 89; Gelinne 1988, 233, with emphasis on the specific location ofthe tower, which is surrounded by meadows. Comparably, Motte 1973, 15 f.; 261 f., refers to this situation as a "situation ideale et originelle".
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wealth ( 126). This marks the beginning of a rich tradition of utopianism and 'wishing-time' 18 with which Kronos is closely associated; and this, too, dates from Hesiod, for according to him the people of the Golden Race lived when Kronos was king in Heaven (Erga 111). The tradition of making this Utopian time Kronos' era can be followed from the Alkmaeonis, via Empedocles and the /nachos of Sophocles (alone among tragedies 19 ); the theme widens in Old Comedy, as is shown especially in Athenaeus 6, 267E ff. Here it is the motif of abundance, of a 'land of Cockaigne', that receives particular attention; there are descriptions of primeval eras, of Pluto's underworld, and of the far-away land of the Persians, who were generally notorious for their excess and luxury 20 . In connection with this motif and partly as a reaction to it as well, there arose in the fourth century a remarkable alternative, possibly under the influence of Antisthenes. According to Plato, Kronos' realm was not one of superabundance. On the contrary, it was a realm of simplicity, indeed, of the simplicity of animals 21 . Here bliss is defined ethically and justice is the code word; this theme blossomed in Latin literature, particularly under the influence of Cynics and the like, as an argument for their rejection and condemnation of the decadent luxury of real life 22 . This rejection led to the development of a peculiar ambiguity in the appreciation, and accordingly in the 'setting', of the 'natural, wild existence' in later, especially Roman, literature. When this state of life was portrayed as unbridled and inhuman, it was placed before the realm of king Kronos/Saturnus, who was then pictured as the bringer of moral standards, justice and civilisation. Alternatively, the era of Kronos/Saturnus itself could be imagined as the period of wild life, but
18 The most accessible surveys: Lovejoy & Boas 1935, 23-102; Gatz 1967; Blundell 1986, esp. 135-64. 19 Fr. 278 Radt, part of which recurs in a fragment ofPhilodemus Peri Eusebeias, P.Herc. 1609 IV 14 ff. A recent discussion: W. Luppe, ZPE 62 (1985) 6-8. 20 On these motifs see Gatz 1967, 114 ff. and the literature cited below, n.108. 2 1 See: Lovejoy and Boas 1935, passim; Blundell1986, ch. 8, pp.203-24: 'Hard Primitivism and the Noble Savage'. M. J. O'Brien, Xenophanes, Aeschylus and the Doctrine of Primeval Brutishness, CQ 35 ( 1985) 264-77, demonstrates that the concept of the theriOdes bios (the 'bestial' interpretation of primitivism) cannot be attested before the latter part of the fifth century. 22 H. Hommel, Das hellenische Ideal vom einfachen Leben, Studium Generate 11 (1958) 742 ff.; R. Visscher, Das einfache Leben. Wort und Motivgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu einem aktuellen Thema (Gottingen 1965).
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then 'wild' had the sense of the simple, natural, but not bestial-a natural life without the complexities of civilisation. As the geographical horizon expanded, Kronos moved ever further to the W est 23 , where he was identified with similar deities, such as Saturnus. Eventually we find him on a Utopian island west of Britannia, where he is represented as either asleep or in chains2 4 . On the other hand, he was also placed to the East in Phrygia, asleep again 25 . In structural terms, a god sleeping and a god wearing chains are identical 26 : both gods are 'out of action'. This selective survey offers a remarkably ambiguous, even contradictory, picture. Kronos is, on one hand, the god of an inhumanly cruel era, which is devoid of ethical standards; on the other, he is the king of a Golden Age of abundance, happiness and justice. He is the loser who has been exiled, chained and enslaved, but he is also the great king par excellence, who has been liberated and rules supreme 27 • His realm was thought to have existed either before historical times, or was imagined as continuously existing 'after time', i.e. in death 28 . It was sometimes situated on the earth, some23 See: Pohlenz 1921, 1998 ff. This was the traditional place of the Isles of the Blessed: Gelinne 1988, 230 ff. 24 See: F. M. Ahl, Amber, Avallon, and Apollo's Singing Swan, A}Ph 103 (1982) 373-411, esp. 400 f.; A. P. Bos, A "Dreaming Kronos" in a Lost Work by Aristotle, AC 58 (1989) 88-111. 25 Kronos was often assimilated with divinities of Asia Minor: Meuli 1975 II, 1076; L. Robert, Hellenica 7 (1949) 50-4;JS(1978) 43-8. Robert also shows that the Kronos mentioned in an inscription from Corinth is the Roman Saturn: REG 79 (1966) 746. 26 W. B. Kristensen, De antieke opvatting van dienstbaarheid, Med. Kon. Ak. Wet. (1934) = idem, Verzamelde biJdragen tot kennis der antieke godsdiensten (Amsterdam 1947) 215; I. Scheftelowitz, Das Schlingen und Netzmotiv, RVV 12 (Giessen 1912) 8. The motif of the sleeping god may have been derived from an oriental tradition: B. F. Batto, The Sleeping God: An Ancient Near Eastern Motif of Divine Sovereignty, Biblica 68 (1987) 153-77. On the representation of the dead as being in chains see Inconsistencies I, 84. There is also a structural congruence between sleep/death and geographic' elimination': "Cronus' eternal sleep is a kind of death: his boundaries are those between life and death as well as the Straits of Gibraltar. Reality is double ... ": F. M. Ahl, o.c. (above n.24), 401. On the other hand, "Wecken und Liisen sind verschiedene Bilder fiir denselben religiiisen Gedanken": Meuli 1975 II, 1076. 27 This fate was not shared by other Titans. Prometheus, of course, is suigeneris. When, in a fragment of Kratinos' Ploutoi (P. Vitelli fr. 1, PSI XI [ 1935] 1212) the Titans call themselves 'Ploutoi', this is to serve the intrigue of the comedy. See: J. Schwarze, Die Beurteilung des Perikles durch die attische Komodie und ihre historische und historiographische Bedeutung (Munich 1971) 40-3. 28 Of course the imagery of the netherworld, especially the Isles of the Blessed
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times deep down in the earth, sometimes at the edge of the world 29 . It is now possible to construct the following table of oppositions: Negative Kronos as a person: father-mutilator child-murderer cannibal tyrant lawlessness His rule: lack of moral standards unstable hierarchy struggle for power rebellion
His present situation:
locked up, chained enslaved asleep: powerless
Positive wise, great king
ideal situation materially: abundance, land of Cockaigne no slavery ideologically: natural order and justice peace simplicity liberated or escaped a great king of blessed people
In addition the following oppositions beyond the categories of positive and negative can be set forth: or Elysium, closely corresponds with that of the period of the Golden Race. For surveys of the various representations and their possible origins see: A. T. Edwards, Achilles in the Underworld. Iliad, Odyssey and Aethiopis, GRBS 28 (1985) 215-27; H. Thesleff, Notes on the Paradise Myth in Ancient Greece, Temenos 22 (1986) 129-39; G. Lanczkowski, Die lnseln der Seligen und verwandte Vorstellungen (Frankfurt 1986); Gelinne 1988. In several articles (On the Image of Paradise, /F85 [1980], 151-64; The Lord of the Dead, HR 20 [1981] 224-41) B. Lincoln has pointed out the remarkable similarities in various Indo-European myths regarding the congruences of first (Utopian) kingship on earth and rulership in the netherworld. He detects traces ofthis correlation in Indian, Iranian, Celtic and Germanic literature. In Indian myth, for instance, Yama is the first king, the first mortal and the first of the dead (he is depicted as being chained with a fetter on his foot). The Irish Donn was the first king, who also was the first to die and establish the realm of the dead, according to Irish tradition a paradisiac faery-land. He also compares the myth of Kronos, which he calls a "special case". Though I cannot accept his suggestion that we have a transformation of the Proto Indo-European myth of creation in the dismemberment of Kronos, this does not detract from the importance of his findings. 29 For the structural equivalence of spatial and temporal transformations see: M. Opitz, Notwendige Beziehungen (Frankfurt 1975) 21. For concurrence of death, Utopia, eschatia, see for instance: M. Zumschlinge o. c. (below n.116) 25 ff. I shall return to these issues below p.1 07.
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Place or time of Utopia:
99
in illo tempore irrevocably past
still existing but not in this world: either in the hereafter (for chosen people) or in far away outer regions (e.g. the West)
out of reach
within reach, in a special sense
The existence of such violent oppositions within one and the same divine ambience calls for an explanation, and explanations have been proposed, of course. They generally boil down to a denial of the seriousness of the contradictions or to other strategies which we shall discuss later. The difficulty of accepting such 'solutions', however, becomes clear from a review of the cult and the rites surrounding the god, in which exactly the same ambiguity will turn up.
2.
RITUAL
"Kronos scheint im Kult keinen festen Platz zu haben, er ist ein Schatten" (apparently, Kronos has no fixed place in cult: he is a shadow) thus Nilsson, unconsciously paraphrasing a statement by von Wilamowitz: "Er ist eben ein Gott ausser Diensten, abgetan wie die rohe Urzeit" (as a god, he is out of action, finished like the primeval ages) 30 . The evidence fully bears out the correctness of these statements. A really old cult is only attested in Olympia, where Kronos' priests are called hoi basilai-a possible, but not certain, correlate of the kingship of Kronos basileus. We know of only one temple in Athens, built by Peisistratos, for Kronos and Rhea. The only known temple statue is the one of Lebadeia, belonging to the Trophonios sanctuary. In Athens, on the 15th of Elaphebolion (circa April), Kronos was given a cake having twelve little globules on it. These few facts outline the cultic tableau 31 : a few further pieces of ritual data will be given below. Realising, on the other hand, that Kronion, as a month name as well as a city name 32 -the latter especially in Sicily-is quite common, one cannot but come to the conGGR I, 511; Wilamowitz 1929, 38. For full references and more details on the cults see: Pohlenz 1921, 1982-6. On the popanon: Deubner 1932, 154. 32 The evidence was collected by Pohlenz 1929, 1984 f.; Cf. also GGR I, 512; Wilamowitz 1929, 36; RE, s.v. Kronion. 30
31
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elusion that, in earlier times, Kronos must indeed have had a cultic significance that he later lost, perhaps after being ousted by a newly introduced generation of gods. What specific function-if any-he originally had is an unsolved problem. That he was connected with the harvest is possible but far from certain 33 . Anyway his so-called 'sickle' cannot prove this 34 . Nor is etymology of any help 35 . The result is, to quote Nilsson (ibid.) once again: "Er ist mythologisch, nicht kultisch'' (he is mythical, not cultic). This is, as I hope to show, a correct conclusion, but it has implications that reach much further than was suspected by Nilsson, who was primarily interested in gods that were tangible in cult. The following short description of a number of rituals associated with Kronos does not contradict this conclusion, but rather, as will become clear, confirms it. Kronia were celebrated on Rhodes on the sixth of Metageitnion. Porphyry, De abstin. 2, 54, tells of humans being sacrificed to Kronos during that festivaJ3 6 . In later times, a condemned criminal was kept alive until the Kronia, and then taken outside the gates to [Artemis] Aristoboule's statue, given wine to drink and slaughtered. From the date it has been concluded that this typical example of a scapegoat ritual springs from the Artemis cult and only became 33 See for instance: Graf 1985b, 93: "Kronos ist sowenig ein Erntegod wie Saturnus ein Saatgott", and see literature on this discussion in his n.124. In the wake of Wilamowitz he rather thinks of a connection with '' eine Pause des bauerlichen J ahres" . 34 If so, Perseus, too, should have been a harvest god, as already Wilamowitz 1929 rightly argued. Even so, M. P. Nilsson, The Sickle of Kronos, BSA 46 (1951) 122 ff. = Opuscula III, 215-9, argues that the sickle refers to the corn harvest. ConIra: West 1978, 21 7. Various authors have pointed out that the so-called sickle may well have been a weapon of oriental origin. Besides the references in the literature on Kronos see: A. A. Barb, Cain's Murder-weapon and Samson's jawbone of an Ass, ]WI 35 (1972) 386-9. 35 See the dictionaries of Frisk and Ch3mtraine. Recently a new etymology was proposed by J. Haudry, Les trois cieux, Etudes indo-europeennes 1 (1982) 23-48: from ker 'cut' and the element -ono, like kl-onos from •kel-, and thronos from •dher-. However, both his etymological and semasiological arguments seem very bold, to say the least. 36 It is irrelevant to my investigation whether this is indeed a historical human sacrifice or, as is more likely, a legendary sacrifice based on the theme of the cruel myth, such as the case treated by A. Henrichs, Human Sacrifice in Greek Religion, in: Le Sacrifice dans l'antiquiti (Entretiens Hardt 27, Geneva 1981) esp. 222 n.6. Graf 1985b, 74-80, esp. 80 n.44, generally may be right in saying that reports of primitive human sacrifices refer to chaotic primeval situations. They must be understood as "mythisches Reflex eines harmlosen Rituals, nicht als historische Erinnerung an einen friihen Zustand". Hughes 1991, 123-5, esp. 125, calls the Rhodian sacrifice "primarily an execution".
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associated with Kronos later. This may well be true, although it is dangerous to build a case on a chance temporal coincidence. What is important, however, is the fact that elsewhere as well, Kronos is associated specifically with bloody and cruel human sacrifices. The ancient view is summarised by SophoclesAndr. fr. 126 Radt, as follows: "Of old there is a custom among barbarians to sacrifice humans to Kronos". Other testimonia on alleged human sacrifices for Kronos refer to barbarian customs too. Best known are the Phoenician-Punic human sacrifices, which are supposed to have been introduced by a former king, El/Kronos37 . The Carthaginian god in whose huge bronze statue children were burnt to death was also identified with Kronos/Saturnus 38 . It was said that in Italy and Sardinia, too, humans had been sacrificed to Saturnus 39 -probably just as legendary a fact 40 as Istros' remark about Crete that the Kouretes in ancient times sacrificed children to Kronos 41 , or the 37 E.g. Philo of Byblos ap. Porph. De abst. 2, 56; Euseb. Praep. Ev. 1, 38d, 40c; Or. pro Const. 13. A full collection of the evidence in: Simonetti 1983, who argues that it was the Greeks who interpreted these sacrifices as being intended for Kronos, whereas actually they were mostly anonymous piacular offerings in cases of disaster. However, these identifications of foreign 'murderous' gods with Kronos are anything but "gleichgiiltig" as Wilamowitz 1929, 37, thought. Cf. also Martelli 1980; Mondi 1990, 159 ff.; Hughes 1991, 124 f. 38 The locus classicus: Diod. 20, 14, 6. On the material evidence see most recently: H. Benichou-Safar, Sur !'incineration des enfants aux tophets de Carthage et de Sousse, RHR 205 (1988) 57-67; Hughes 1991, 115 f.; S. Brown, Late Carthaginian Child Sacrifice and Sacrificial Monuments in Their Mediterranean Context (Sheffield 1992). 39 E.g. Dion. Hal. 1, 38, 2; Diod. 5, 66, 5; Demon in Schol. Hom. Od. 20,302. According to Timaeus (FGrHist F 28) Sardanios gelOs was the laughter that resounded when septagenarians were sacrificed by their children to Kronos on Sardinia, and in F 29 he connects this with human sacrifice to Kronos at Carthage; cf. also Suda s.v. Sardanios gelos. On this 'sardonic laughter' see: M. Pohlenz, Berl. Phil. Wochenschr. (1916) 949. Cf. D. Arnauld, Mourir de rire dans l'Odyssee: les rapports avec le rire sardonique et le rire dement, BAGB (1985) 177-86; C. Miralles, Le rire sardonique, Mitis 2 (1987) 31-44. Perhaps this belongs rather in the atmosphere of 'malicious laughter': M. Dillon, Tragic Laughter, CW 84 (1990/1) 345-53. 40 Although E. Ruschenbusch, Uberbevolkerung in archaischer Zeit, Historia 40 (1991) 375-8, accepts it as one of the truly historical measures against overpopulation in archaic times. 41 Istros FGrHist 334 F 48 = Porph. De abstin. 2, 56; Euseb. Praep. Ev. 4, 16. F. jacoby, FGrHist III b (Supp.) I, 651; II 519 f., regards this as a misinterpretation of the mythical weapon-dance round the child Zeus. "Manon e da escludere che essa fosse ricollegata a! ricordo di un antico rituale, se si considera Ia notizia diAnticlide relativa a sacrifici umani compiuti a Litto in onore di Zeus (FGrHist 140 F 7)": G. Marasco, Sacrifici umani e aspirazioni politiche, Sileno 7 (1981) 167-79, esp. 171, with more literature. For a full discussion of child sacrifice in Greek and Roman literature see: Martelli 1981. The iconographic dossier on (alleged) child
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later reports by Christian authors of human sacrifices in Greece itself. Surveying all these data, one is not surprised that Kronos frequently stands as a signum for human sacrifice, bloody offering and even cannibalism. Side by side with the above-mentioned text by Sophocles stands, for instance, Euhemeros' view that Kronos and Rhea and the other people living in the reign of Kronos used to eat human flesh 42 . A more negative and gruesome picture can hardly be imagined. The appearance of another, again utterly contrasting one is therefore all the more striking. According to Empedocles, and in Pythagorean circles generally, Kronos is the very symbol of bloodless sacrifice 43 . The Athenian cake offering is a good illustration of this 44 , and Athenaeus 3, 11 OB, informs us that by way of offering the Alexandrians used to put loaves of bread in Kronos' temple, from which everybody was allowed to eat. This peaceful and joyous aspect crops up in an almost hyperbolic form in the Attic celebration of the Kronia 45 . Apart from a short note of Demosthenes 24, 26, with mention of the date (12 Hekatombaion = circa August), we have two somewhat more detailed reports. Plutarch Moralia 1098B: "So too, when slaves hold the Kronia feast or go about celebrating the country Dionysia, you could not endure the jubilation and din." Macrobius Saturnalia 1, 10, 22: "Philochorus [FGrHist 328 F 97] says that Cecrops was the first to build, in Attica, an altar to Saturn and sacrifices in Greece has been collected and discussed by A.-F. Laurens, L'enfant entre I' epee et le chaudron. Contribution a une lecture iconographique, DHA 10 ( 1984) 203-51. 42 Ennius Euhemerus 9, 5 = Lactantius Div. Inst. 1, 13, 2. See for full evidence: Lovejoy & Boas 1935, 53-79. 43 See Pohlenz 1916, 553; 1921, 2009 f. for references. 44 On sacrificial cakes and bloodless sacrifices see: A. Henrichs, The Eumenides and Wineless libations in the Derveni Papyrus, in Atti del XVII Congresso Int. di Papirologia II (Naples 1984) 255-68, esp. 257-61. 45 This festival and related ceremonies of the 'Saturnalian' type both in Greece and Rome have been discussed many times. The most important discussions are: Nilsson 1906, 35-40, 393; Bomer 1961 III, 415-37; Kenner 1970, 87-95. I have not seen Ph. Bourboulis, Ancient Festivals of the Saturnalian Type (Thessalonica 1964). A short summary: Burkert GR 231 f. On the Attic Kronia in particular: Deubner 1932, 152-5. In his informative article: Poseidon's Festival at the Winter Solstice, CQ34 (1984) 1-16, N. Robertson curiously underestimates the fundamental importance of role reversal in festivals of Poseidon and elsewhere.
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Ops, worshipping these deities as Jupiter and Earth, and to ordain that, when crops and fruits had been garnered, heads of households everywhere should eat thereof in company with the slaves with whom they had borne the toil of cultivating the land. For it was well pleasing to the god that honour should be paid to the slaves in consideration of their labour. And that is why we follow the practice of a foreign land and offer sacrifice to Saturn with the head uncovered." (tr. P. V. Davies).
The former text merely says that slaves/servants had a festival with a banquet, during which they enjoyed themselves mightily, and which-in Plutarch's time-was celebrated in Attica at any rate 46 . The latter testimonium is more explicit. Finally, the Roman poet Accius (Ann. fr. 3M, Bae.; Fr. Poet. Lat. Morel p.34) adds that most Greeks, but the Athenians in particular, celebrated this festival: ''in all fields and towns they feast upon banquets elatedly and everyone waits upon his own servants. From this had been adopted as well our own custom of servants and masters eating together in one and the same place.''
Some scholars have contended that Accius projected the attested Roman custom of masters waiting upon their slaves at the Saturnalia, to the Greek Kronia, about which we know only that masters and slaves dined together. However, there is no ground for such scepticism. First, our other sources are much too scanty to rely on argumenta e silentio. Secondly, when masters regale their servants, this naturally implies some sort of reversal of normal functions, whether this is ritually demonstrated or not. A number of closely related 'Saturnalian' festivals in Greece show that ritual freedom of slaves could indeed take various forms. In Troizen, for instance, the slaves were for one day allowed to play knuckle-bones with the citizens, and the masters treated the servants to a meal, possibly during a Poseidon festival. During the Thessalian festival of the Peloria, dedicated to Zeus Peloros, strangers were offered a banquet, prisoners freed of their fetters; slaves reclined at dinner and were waited upon by their
46 Some scholars argue that the masters have retired from the festival by this late period (M.P. Nilsson, in: RE 11 [1921]1975 f.; Bomer 1961 III, 417), oreven more ingeniously-: ''Probably the masters only appeared for the first course or two ... '' (Parke 1977, 30), but in my view it is far more likely that only the most conspicuous features have found a place in the reports.
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masters, with full freedom of speech. At festivals of the god Hermes on Crete too, the slaves stuffed themselves and the masters served 47 . Ephoros (FGrHist 70 F 29) even knows of a festival in Kydonia on Crete where the serfs, the Klarotes, could lord it in the city while the citizens stayed outside. The slaves were also allowed to whip the citizens, probably those who had recklessly remained in the city or re-entered it 48 . In connection with this, Bomer49 has drawn attention to a formerly neglected datum, namely that on a specific day of the Spartan Hyakinthia "the citizens treated all their acquaintances and their own slaves to a meal". The festival of Hermes Charidotes on Samos, during which stealing and robbing were permitted, presents a slightly different situation, because the specific master-slave relationship was not involved. More examples could be given, but these suffice. Before summarising our findings about the ritual, one more word must be said about iconography50 . Except on coins, representations of Kronos with uncovered head are very rare for the older period. The usual type of statue is of a seated Zeus-like god, his head leaning on a hand. The back of the head is almost always covered by a fold of the robe. This type occurs as early as the fifth century BC, and is found quite frequently until late in the Roman period. Even the ancients could only guess at the meaning of this headgear, which was unusual in Greece: "Some claim his head is covered because the beginning of time is unknown"-such is the guess of the Vatican Mythographer III, 1, 5, alluding to the identification of Kronos/Chronos. Modern scholars have considered grief as a possible reason-sadness at his downfall and oppression-or the secrecy of his plans51 . No unanimous conclusion has been reached, however. 47
Troizen and Crete: Carystius ap. Athenaeus 14, 639BC. Peloria, Baton
FGrHist 268 F 5.
48 There are nice modern parallels. In Belgium on St. Thomas Day (December 21) female servants were permitted to shut their masters out until they had been given presents, and in the Middle Ages English pupils barred out their schoolmasters until they had met certain demands. Mentioned with references by Bremmer 1987b, 87 n.48. Cf. also Lewis 1976, 142. 49 Bomer 1961 III, 179: Polykrates ap. Athen. 4, 139C ff. (FGrHist 588 F 1). 50 See the extensive discussions in Mayer 1897, 1549-73; Pohlenz 1921, 2014 ff. 5! Add to the older suggestions in the literature above n.3: "the irrational counsel, not fathomable by human reason": M. van der Valk, o.c. (above n.8); "souligne ses caracteres chtonien et mystique, en meme temps que ses rapports etroits avec !'Orient": Le Glay 1966, 502. The attribution of 'dream thinking' to the god Kronos can be traced back at least to the 4th century BC. Cf. Tertull. De
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There are also references to a different type of 'wrapping'. We are told several times that the feet of the Roman statue of Saturn were shackled (or wrapped in woollen bandages) and that on his holiday the statue was freed of its chains52 . Apollodorus of Athens (FGrHist 224 F 118) states that this was also a Greek custom with regard to the Kronos statue, although Macrobius, who quotes him, incorrectly dates this festival in December. Some modern scholars, including Jacoby 53, interpret this statement as referring to Roman customs that this author of the second century BC supposedly knew of. In my opinion it is at least equally probable that he was familiar with such a custom from his own Greek surroundings, perhaps in particular from Alexandria, where he lived and from where our knowledge of other novel elements comes as well. A Kronos/Saturnus in chains is, for that matter, a topos in the later magical papyri from Egypt54 . This survey of cultic and ritual aspects leads to the conclusion that Kronian ritual is just as ambiguous as Kronian myth. For ritual too we can draw up a diagram of opposite positive and negative elements. anima 46, 10, quod prior omnibus Satumus somniarit, with the note of J. H. Waszink, and idem, VChr 1 (1947) 143 ff.; Melanges H. Gregoire II (Bruxelles 1950) 639 ff. The theme of Kronos as the pondering and dreaming guardian of age-old wisdom is elaborated in Orphic and Neoplatonic theology. See for instance Prod. In Plat. Cratyl. Comm. p. 57, 19ff. Pasquali, who also asserts that Kronos passes his 'plans' to his son Zeus by the mediation of oracles: ibid. p. 27, 21 ff. = OF 155. Plut. De facie in orbe lunae 26-30, 940F-944F (cf. De defectu orac. 18, 419E-421A) relates that people make pilgrimages to the sleeping Kronos on his isle in the Western sea in order to be illuminated by his visions. Cf. H. Cherniss, Plutarch Moralia 12 (Cambridge Mass.-London 1957) 180 ff. The myth of the dreaming and, during his dream, prophesying Kronos is most likely of oriental origin: Berossos FGrHist 680 F 4, 14, tells us of a Kronos who predicted the biblical Deluge in a dream. See: F. Cumont, RHR 58 (1931) 38 f., and the ample discussion by AlfOldi 1979, 20-5, to whom I owe various references. 52 Macr. Sat. 1, 8, 5; Min. Fe!. 22, 5; Stat. Silv. 1, 6, 4 (and commentary by Vollmer); Arnob. 4, 24. Cf. Bomer 1961 III, 425. I shall return to the issue offettered gods in the next chapter. See for the time being: G. A. Lobeck, Aglaophamus (Konigsbergen 1829) 275; Meuli 1975 II, 1035-81; M. Delcourt, Hephaistos ou Ia Ugende du magicien (Paris 1957) 18 ff.; 65 ff.; Graf 1985b, 81-96. 53 FGrHist Comm. 244 F 118, followed by Meuli 1975 II, 1039 n.9. 54 Most illustrative is a passage in PGM IV, 3086-91: "If, while you are speaking, you hear the heavy step of( someone] and a clatter of iron, the god [Kronos] is coming, bound with chains, holding a sickle". Cf. the analysis of this passage and further information on Kronos in magic: S. Eitrem, Kronos in der Magie, Melanges]. Bidez (Bruxelles 1934) 351-60, and before him: A. Dieterich, Abraxas (Leipzig 1891) 76 ff. More recently: R. Kotansky, Kronos and a New Magical Inscription Formula on a Gem in theJ.P. Getty Museum, AncW3 (1980) 29-32.
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Negative
Positive
Sacrifice:
pre-eminently bloody
Atmosphere of Kronian ritual:
frightening ritual of homicide, infanticide:
bloodless sacrifices, cakes, loaves of bread exulted celebrations with unlimited freedom and abundance: extreme relaxation freed from shackles on holiday
extreme tension head covered ( = ?) Iconography: in shackles all year long (the last possibly, but not conclusively, Greek)
3.
CoNTRADICTIONS
It has become clear that oppositions within the myth of Kronos have close correspondences in ritual. On the one hand, there is a complex of failing standards and lawlessness, patricide and infanticide, cannibalism, rebellion and enslavement: Kronos ankulometes. On the other hand, there is the complex of peace and natural well-being, material abundance and ethical justice, the breaking of chains: Kronos megas/basileus. Either of the two complexes is in itself quite familiar: the negative one shows the characteristics typical of chaos 55 , which, as we will see, has been visualised in many cultures as a primordial era before the introduction of human culture, but which in certain situations can return to the real world for a short while 56 . The positive complex presents the usual image of Utopia where-not always, but 55 I shall use the concept 'chaos' throughout in the general sense of 'absence of order', 'state of confusion', which can, for instance, manifest itself as the absence of normal culture, codes, distinctions, definitions, conventions. I am not referring to the specifically Hesiodic idea of Chaos, whose cosmology and essence are the subject of an endless discussion. See recently: H. Podbielski, Le chaos et les confins de l'univers dans Ia Thiogonie d'Hesiode, LEG 54 (1986) 253-63; Ballabriga 1986, ch. 4 'L'Univers et I' Abime', pp.257-90; R. Mondi, CHAOS (GR) and the Hesiodic Cosmogony, HSPh 92 ( 1989) 1-41 (with a refreshing turn in the approach of the problems). He also notes that side by side with this specific concept Hesiod also employs the term in the more general meaning referred to above: "all that is formless, boundless, indeterminate, and indifferentiated" (p.37). Cf. idem 1990. See also: Chr. Auffarth, Chaos, HrwG 2 (1990) 193-5. 56 On the symbolism of chaos see literature cited by Versnel 1980, 591 n.209 and 594 n.216; Eliade 1964, chs XI and XII, passim. Cf. above p.81 nn.165 f., and below, p.121 n.104.
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often-a natural abundance eliminates social tensions and suppressions and sometimes even eliminates the existing hierarchy. Accordingly, elements of both pictures are standard ingredients in descriptions of 'the Other' 57 -the most effective (and revealing) instrument of self-definition 58 - , no matter whether it regards the imaginary barbarian who is supposed to live in the margins of the known world, or any other 'Other' that will serve to demonstrate the superiority and rightness of one's own culture or section of a culture. Besides barbarians59 -on a scale gradually fading from (near-)realism to the unimaginable world of fairies, for instance going from
57 Of course, this ambiguity has not gone unnoticed. Besides the literature mentioned in the following notes see also: Sourvinou-lnwood 1986, 44. In their fundamental article Rosellini & Said 1978,966, conclude: "Ainsi, dans le discours d'Herodote, les eschatioi apparaissent comme un espace ambivalent: territoire des agrioi andres et des anthropophages, qui representent )'extreme sauvagerie, mais aussi terre d'election de merveilles, ou vivent, situes au confins de l'espace et non plus a I'oree de l'histoire les hommes de l'age d'or". Cf. Hall1989, 149: "This schizophrenic vision of inferiority and of utopia gives rise to an inherently contradictory portrayal of the barbarian world. It is the home on the one hand of tyrants and savages, and on the other of idealized peoples and harmonious relations with heaven"; Vandenbroeck 1987, 142: "It is in relation to the demands made by the ideology of a specific social group or class on the construction of the representation of self that the image of the same 'Other' can be filled in with totally divergent categories (e.g. the good savage or the barbarian savage)". 58 "Ethnocentrism, defined as the inability to escape from the central and irreflexive categories and concepts of one's own culture, is responsible for the fact that wildness cannot but be modelled on the important aspects of one's own culture" (Vandenbroeck 1987, 15, as translated by P. Mason). Any image of an alternative world-Golden Age, Elysium, Utopia, eschatological expectations, exotic cultures-is always and necessarily a negative of our own culture: M. Davies, Description by Negation. History of a Thought-pattern in Ancient Accounts of a Blissful Life, Prometheus 13 (1987) 265-84; "Ere the World began to be". Description by Negation in Cosmogonic Literature, Prometheus 14 (1988) 15-24. 59 Literature abounds. Some general works: F. Hartog, Le miroir d'Herodote. Essai sur la representation de {'autre (Paris 1980, also in an English translation); B. D. Shaw, Eaters of Flesh, Drinkers of Milk: The Ancient Mediterranean Ideology of the Pastoral Nomad, AncSoc 13/4 (1982/3) 5-31; L. Bernot, Buveurs et nonbuveurs de lait, L'Homme 28 (1988) 99-107; Vandenbroeck 1987; Hall 1989. Various connections of antique images with early modern representations of terra incognita, especially the New World: P. Mason, Seduction from Afar. Europe's Inner Indians, Anthropos 82 (1987) 581-601; The Ethnography of the Old World Mind: Indians and Europe, Anthropos 84 (1989) 549-54; The Deconstruction ofAmerica (London 1990); Classical Ethnography and its Influence on the Perception of the Peoples of the New World, forthcoming in: M. Reinhold, J. R. Fears & W. Haase (edd. ), The Classical Tradition and the Americas I. I am indebted to Peter Mason for having communicated several of his papers to me before they were published.
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Skythians to Amazones 60 (or worse )-we detect sectarian groups 61 and-in a different way-women 62 as constructs of the Other. Literature abounds since the issue is in the centre of interest. Generally, two extremes can be distinguished: the 'noble savage' type with the peaceful diet of the vegetarian-drinkers of milk, eaters of honey 63 - , and the beastly savage: eater of raw meat, even cannibalistic. Cultural and moral codes may vary accordingly64 . Especially in Herodotus there is a tendency towards a correlation of culinary and sexual practices and we find a great variety of deviances in between the two extremes. The more geographically remote a people, the more likely its culinary and sexual practices will be to deviate from the Athenian norm, as Rossellini and Said were the first to show in their innovating article on Herodotus' representa60 On the anti-normal features of the Amazones see for instance: J. CarlierDetienne, Les Amazones font Ia guerre et !'amour, L'Ethnographie 76 (1980-1) 11-33; P. Dubois, Centaurs and Amazons. Women and the Pre-history of the Great Chain of Being (Ann Arbor 1982); Tyrrell1984. In a less rigidly structuralist way and with perceptive insights in the earliest Greek images of the Amazons, J. H. Blok, A rnazones Antianeirai (Diss. Leiden 1991. English edition forthcoming). 61 Good instances can be found in the opposition between the 'vegetarian' Pythagoreans and the 'cannibalistic' Cynics (and, of course, Christians). See for instance: W. Burkert, Craft versus Sect: The Problem of Orphics and Pythagoreans, in: B.F. Meyer & E. P. Sanders (edd.),jewish and Christian Self-definition III (London 1982) 1-22; M. Daraki, Les fils de Ia mort: Ia necrophagie cynique et stoi:cienne. in: Gnoli & Vernant 1982, 155-72. M. Detienne, Between Beasts and Gods in: Gordon 1981, 215-28, argues that both extremes represent attitudes that fundamentally reject the polis' system of values. 62 I refrain from giving a survey of the enormous literature on 'gender' and 'bounding'. Among the works cited inch. IV, the following proved to be particularly rewarding and inspiring: Loraux 1981; Peradotto & Sullivan 1984; Skinner 1986; Blok & Mason 1987, especially the contributions by Blok and Mason; Winkler 1990. A recent general survey of the literature: G. Clark, Women in the Ancient World (Greece and Rome. New Surveys in the Classics 21, 1989). The congruence of the representations of 'the' female and 'the' foreigner/barbarian recurs in modern descriptions. It is revealing to compare the (without exception negative) qualities attributed by modern Greek males to women (J. Du Boulay, Portrait of a Greek Mountain Village [Oxford 1974] 100-20) with those attributed to the Romioi, denoting the pastoral population of the mountainous districts of Northern Greece (P. Leigh Fermor, 'Roumeli. Travels in Northern Greece [Harmondsworth 1983 = 1966), 107-113). 63 Or even more extreme: those who survive on perfumes: Aulus Gellius NA 9, 4, locates in India a people who live entirely on the perfume of flowers. This brings them on the culinary level of the gods. See: Mason 1987. 64 Hall 1989 exemplarily summarizes recent research when she concludes that incest, polygamy, murder, sacrilege, castration, female power, and despotism are images by which the Athenian tragedies defined the non-Greek world.
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tions of the 'sauvage ' 65 . They also analysed the internal logic and coherence in the changing images between diet and (sexual or moral) behaviour. Of course, confusion and intertwining may occur: the society of the Cyclopes betrays features of both the idyllic pastoral or even the vegetarian/Utopian world and of the world of the brutal savage or the carnivorous beast 66 . However, this is rather exceptional: though disparate elements of the two great opposites may intermingle now and then, generally we find rather strict distinctions between the harmless/ideal and the threatening/dark opposites of normality67 ,-as we have it exemplarily in Ephoros' distinction between cannibalistic and vegetarian Skythians68 . However, being constructions of alternative realities, neither is really good. ''The vegetarian is no less inhuman than the cannibal" 69 . 65 Rossellini & Said 1978 (Cf. Mason 1987, from whose phrasing I have borrowed). They tend to draw a rather sharp line between 1) a gradual and concentric increasing of' Otherness' and 2) the total inversion of the normality. Illustrative is the description of Cambyses' expedition against the Ethiopians: as it gradually moved away from the 'civilised' world, so the diet to which his men had to resort passed from cereals via draught animals and herbs to a selective anthropophagy (Herodotus 3, 17 ff.). Anthropophagy like human sacrifice occurs only in barbarian cultures according to Herodotus, 4, 94; 5, 5; 9, 119. 66 Fundamentally: Vidal-Naquet 1981, 46-56 = Gordon 1981, 85-9. Also Kirk 1971, 162-71; Cl. Calame, Mythe grec et structures narratives: le mythe des Cyclopes dans I'Odysstfe, Ziva Antika 26 (1976) 311-28; Auffarth 1991, 292-314, with more literature, whose Dionysiac interpretation, however, I cannot accept. See also G. Crane, Calypso. Background and Conventions of the Odyssey (Frankfurt 1988). Even the island of the Phaeacians has its ambiguities (Vidal-Naquet, o.c. ). Cf. also above n.57. All the same, in either of the two imaginary worlds one representation is clearly dominant: "Die fiktionale Utopie als Gegenbild unserer Welt hat demnach zwei Ausrichtungen, und beide sind Zerrformen der Wirklichkeit als Eutopie im Entwurf einer positiven, als Dystopie in dem einer negativen Idealitiit, als wunschund alptraumhaftes Bild der Gesellschaft wie in den Homerischen Archetypen Phiiakeninsel und K yklopenhohle": W. von Koppenfels, U topiefiktion und menippeische Satire, Poetica 13 ( 1981) 16-66. 67 Cf. W. Speyer, Die Griechen und die Fremdvolker, Eos 77 (1989) 17-29. This is, for instance, also true for the literary representations of yet another type of territory outside culture, the wild lands: G. Petrone, Locus amoenusllocus horridus: due modi di pensare il bosco, Aujidus 5 (1988) 3-18, who compares the ambiguity of the images ofthe Underworld. Cf. also the analysis of the imagery of waste land in antiquity in: G. Traina, Paludi e bonifiche del mondo antico (Rome 1988). 68 FGrHist 79 F 42. Homer Il. 13, 5, already knows of northern peoples, the Hippemolgoi and the Abioi (literally those without food) who live on a milk diet and are 'the most righteous of mankind'. They reappear as the law-abiding Skythians who eat cheese made from mare's milk in Aesch. fr. 198 N. Strabo 7, 3, 7-9, articulates the two Skythian extremes in terms of rawness (omotes) and justice (dikaiosune). Cf. especially: E. Levy, Les origines du mirage Scythe, Ktema 6 (1981) 57-68. 69 Vidal-Naquet in: Gordon 1981, 87. Cf. Detienne cited above n.61.
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So, despite the obvious analogies with the representations of 'Otherness' 70 cited so far, there is one conspicuous difference between the dual alternatives just mentioned and the two opposites which together form the Kronian ambiguity. The bewildering thing about Kronos is that, in his myth and ritual, these extreme oppositions are united in one greater composition-without, however, being 'solved' or so much as reconciled. Naturally, this has notescaped scholars' attention. "Diese Vorstellungen sind unvereinbar" (these representations are irreconcilable), von Wilamowitz wrote in 1929; "Ce Cronos, pere de Zeus ... est un personnage divin fort ambigu" (this Kronos, father of Zeus, .... is a very ambiguous person), Vidal-Naquet wrote fifty years later 71 . That the ancients, too, observed the contradictions-consciously or unconsciously-is apparent from a large number of details. The stock epithet ankulometes is usually interpreted as meaning 'plotting crooked, devious things', but side by side with this it is also explained as 'sensibly deliberating on crooked matters' 72 . The opposition between bloody and bloodless sacrifices also leads to contradictions: Athenaeus' report of the Alexandrians' sacrificing loaves of bread to Kronos violently clashes with Macrobius' information (Sat. 1, 7, 14 ff.) that it was the Alexandrians in particular who made bloody sacrifices to their Kronos (and Sarapis), in a typically Greek manner. Comparable to this is the fact that in the Athenian inscription mentioned above, the bloodless sacrifice of a round cake to Kronos is immediately followed by a sacrifice of a piece of pastry in the shape of an ox (bloodless, but referring to bloody matters)73. Cheiron's status ever since Pherecydes 74 as the son of Kro70 Mason 1987, 153, for instance, notes that the eating of his children by Kronos is a form of 'culinary incest' in which can be perceived an overlapping of the two semantic fields which we see separately in the representations of the savage world. 7! Wilamowitz 1929, 36; Vidal-Naquet 1981, 363. The latter has made some highly valuable remarks on this paradox: "!'age d'or d'Hesiode, !'age de Cronos, !'age pn~culinaire et presacrificiel, !'age 'vegetarien' que nous decrivent tant de textes, est ( .... ) aussil'age de l'anthropophagie et du sacrifice humain" (ibid. 43); cf. 363-4. 72 References in nn.13 f. above. 73 Cf. above n.31; Deubner 1932, 154 f.; K. Mar6t, Kronos und die Titanen, SMSR 8 (1932) 48-82; 189-213, esp. 67 n.2. 74 Pherecydes in schol. A poll. Rhod. 1, 554; 2, 1235; Pind. Pyth. 3, 1 ff.; 4, 115; Nem. 3, 47; Apoll. 1, 9; Verg. Georg. 3, 92. Pan, too, is the son ofKronos in one tradition: Borgeaud 1979, 66 f.
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nos, is in my opinion, based on this ambiguity: Cheiron, too, is a creature midway between human and animal. He betrays elements of the wild, bestial and uncontrolled (especially when connected with the centaurs as a group). But he possesses elements of culture and justice as well: he teaches the art of healing and other arts, and already in Homer is called "the most righteous of the centaurs" (fl. 11, 832). In antiquity, too, people noticed the paradox and sometimes tried to get rid of it, for instance by condemning or ignoring Kronos' negative aspects. Modern scholars seem to dislike contradictions even more 75 . One of the commonest modern mechanisms for explaining contradictions is to call them anomalies that developed accidently, either under the influence of foreign cultures or as a result of the gradual clustering within Greece of initially quite unrelated traditions. Furthermore, an internal evolution and deformation is also possible. Pohlenz, for instance, searches for a solution to his problem: "das goldene Zeitalter ... passt schlecht genug zu dem Frevler Kronos" (the Golden Age does not go with the criminal Kronos), in a merging of different traditions: the mythical one involving an evil Kronos was supposedly combined later with the merry agricultural festival that was assumed to be specifically Attic. Mar6t-' 'Kronos ankulometes auch sonst scharf von Kronos megas zu trennen" (Kronos ankulometes must be separated from Kronos megas)-even perceives two completely independent original Kronos figures, namely, a cosmo gonic and a vegetative dying and rising god 76 . The discovery of the Kumarbi poem, of course, provided the 'oriental excuse': this horrid, barbarian tale allegedly had nothing to do with the original Kronos and was simply ascribed to him later on. A great number of such 'solutions' have been proposed. Of course, I would not deny that in Hesiod's works various, sometimes contradictory or incongruous, influences can be discerned77. Nor can there be any doubt that gods, myths and rites are
75 On this aversion and the strategies to get rid of contradictions see: Inconsistencies I, Introduction. 76 Pohlenz 1921, 2006; K. Mar6t o.c. (above n.73), 58 and 213. 77 Cf. Mondi o.c. ((1984) above n.11) 325, on the radical unitarian position: "the commentator must either explain away, often at the expense of great effort and ingenuity, the glaring discrepancies and obscurities in that text in his attempt to preserve its integrity, or delete enough of it so that what remains is synchronically consistent, the work of the 'original Hesiod'. The only other recourse would be to
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products of age-long traditions showing development, deformations, assimilations and amalgamations. Nevertheless, the solution offered by the analysis of such historical processes is of a limited relevance. For assimilation and identification do not occur arbitrarily; there must have been affinities or similarities that encouraged the process: why was Kronos the one to be identified with Kumarbi? This was undoubtedly not merely because he was a fading god, who suffered no damage from this nasty imputation. In other words, the question should not concern primarily the how, but the why. And there is another even more relevant consideration. Even if a diversity in the origins of various elements can be shown, the most important problem remains: the question why the Greeks ever since Hesiod-in whose works the paradox, as we have seen, is already fully present-not only tolerated the clashing components of the Kronos figure for centuries, but apparently deliberately elaborated upon them. For we find specifications of Kronos as a god of human sacrifice in the same period in which Kronos was given additional significance as the god of Cockaigne in comedy and as the gentle king of a realm of peace in philosophy. Any explanation is in this case only entitled to that name if it accepts the coincidentia oppositorum as a structural datum and makes it the core of the problem 78 . Matters are complicated by the fact that there is no unanimity about the development of the isolated complexes either. In terms of atmosphere, the myth ofthe Golden Race and the ritual ofthe Attic Kronia evidently belong together 79 , but how did they come together? Almost without exception the explanations in the older studies presuppose a development. The myth came first, then the ritual, says von Wilamowitz: "Die Menschen wollen fiir einen Tag
suppose that Hesiod's sense of clarity and narrative logic was either weak or disturbingly different from our own" (the latter option, for that matter, to my mind not being as desperate as Mondi apparently thinks). 78 This is well seen by J. Schvola, Decay, Progress, the Good Life? Hesiod and Protagoras on the Development of Culture (Helsinki 1989). Here the inconsistency between the Kronos of the Succession Myth and the Kronos of the Myth of the Ages is fully acknowledged, but the optimistic and pessimistic views which they contain are explained as two sides of Hesiod's moral message. 79 This connection is particularly emphasized by the bloodless offerings for Kronos. Above p.63, we have seen that bloodless sacrifices and libations of milk (and/or water and honey) refer to marginal situations in general. But as such they also specifically refer to the marginal precosmic era. Besides the literature mentioned see also Graf 1985b, 26-9; Bremmer 1987b, 80 f. For Rome see below pp.177 and 268.
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das selige Leben fiihren, wie es im goldenen Zeitalter unter Kronos gewesen war." (for one day, people wish to revive the blissful life, as it had been in the Golden Age ofKronos). No, the ritualists reply, "antike Feste entstehen nicht auf diese Weise" (ancient festivals do not originate in this manner: Deubner, as well as Nilsson, Ziehen, Jacoby, Bomer and others), and Ed. Meyer explains that the image of the Golden Age arose precisely from this type of festival 80 . The festival itself, it was unanimously decided, belongs to a widespread genre that entitles oppressed people, servants or slaves, to one single day of relaxation, for reasons of humanity for instance81 . As these festivals were certainly not connected exclusively with the harvest, they could be associated with various gods. The very same 'which was first' question applies to the negative aspects of the myth and ritual. According to Gruppe, the myth of Kronos as a child devourer was fabricated after the example of the ritual child and human sacrifices; Pohlenz, on the other hand, sees things exactly the other way round: because the myth was familiar, Kronos came to be associated with all kinds of human sacrifices82 . Indeed the only Greek human sacrifice, viz. the one on Rhodes, originally belonged to Artemis. All these views involve implicit assumptions concerning the interrelatedness of myth and rite, but none of them even approaches a meaningful interpretation of the Kronos complex as a whole. The only theory from this period (the early twentieth century) that does aspire emphatically to that goal has only one drawback: it is untenable. FrazerB 3 has integrated the whole of the Kronos myth and ritual complex in his comprehensive theory of the year-god: he pictures Kronos as a dying and rising god of vegetation. His festival therefore must be considered a celebration surrounding the turn of the year; the human sacrifices are explained as a substitute for regicide. Within this theory the dark and the bright aspects are indeed integrated in one comprehensive picture. However, as we have seen in the first chapter, Frazer himself is a faded god, and although elements of his general theory have certainly remained of value, Andrew Lang's
80 Wilamowitz 1929, 37; GGR I, 514; other references in Bomer 1961 III, 420 n.2; E. Meyer, Kleine Schrijten II, 39 ff. 81 GGR I, 36; Bomer 1961 III, 422. 82 Pohlenz 1921, 1998, where other references can be found. 83 J. G. Frazer, GB III, 9 ff.; VI, 351 ff.; IX (Aftermath) 290 ff.
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attack84 on his Kronos theory in particular is irrefutably final. If year-gods ever existed, Kronos is very unlikely to have been one. Even his connection with the harvest is debatable; his sickle does not necessarily make him a vegetation god; merry slaves' feasts are not connected with Kronos alone, and so on and so forth. The golden bough is broken, ~ 00 . Seen from this perspective, the reversal ritual offers another, deeper meaning. Although not linked to any particular type of festival or sector of social life, reversal rituals are found predominantly in the ceremonies accompanying a critical passage in the agricultural or social year, moments of stagnation and rupture at which chaos threatens, such as initiation, festivals of the dead, and in particular the opening, eating/ drinking or offering of the first fruits of the harvest or the first wine as recurrent, or the accessions of new rulers as incidental incisions in the progress of time. One or more such events may develop into one or more regular New Year celebrations 101 , in 98 P. L. Berger, Some Second Thoughts on Substantive versus Functional Definitions of Religion, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 13 (1974) 125-33. 99 Berger & Luckman 1971, 121. 100 These concepts are used by Weidkuhn 1977, who finds his inspiration in Eliade. 10 1 On the occurrence of several New Year festivals in one year: M. P. Nilsson, Primitive Time-reckoning (Lund 1920) 270. Particularly interesting is the cumulation of 'incision ceremonies' as a result of the interference of two different cultural groups in a community. From the Middle Ages Christians had their own rites of licence connected with Lent, which contributed to the development of Carnival.
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which various elements are united into a fixed pattern. Eliade and Lanternari 102 in particular have given a complete taxonomy of this 'grande festa'. The caesura between old and new is essentially experienced and dramatized as a disruption of social life, a vacuum that is filled by a temporary return of the mythical primordial era from before Creation or before the birth of the present culture 103 • As already stated in the previous chapter, this is invariably expressed by images of chaos, dissociation, dissolution of order, a topsy-turvy world, e.g. a temporary abolition of kingship and laws. There are orgies in the sense of drinking bouts as well as in the sexual sense, ritual fights between two groups, and the return and welcome
Among others Jews were a natural object of derision and mimicry, just as it was a general Mediterranean custom to pelt the Jews with stones in the week before Eastern. On the other hand, we know from Inquisition archives dating from 1571 that in Venice Christian bakers used to bring bread to the Jews in the Ghetto at the end of Pesach. Though being cordially welcomed, the bakers were also bombarded with all sorts of projectiles by the Jewish mob, mainly consisting of children. See: C. Roth, A History of the jews of Venice (Philadelphia 1935); idem, The Eastertide Stoning of the Jews and its Liturgical Echoes, Jewish Quarterly Review 35 (1945) 361-71; B. Pullan, The jews of Europe and the Inquisition of Venice, 1550-1670 (Oxford 1983). Interestingly, similar rituals on the same day are recorded for Islamic cultures in connection with the Jewish festival ofMimuna: TheJews were allowed to hold picnics on the territory of their Islamic neighbours, who even provided them with bread, branches etc. During the festival, which was regarded as a festival of renewal, there were rites of reversal. Male Jews were dressed as women or wore Moslim clothes, which was normally strictly forbidden. See: H. E. Goldberg, The Mimuna and the Minority Status of Moroccan Jews, Ethnology 17 (1978) 75-87. 102 Eliade 1949, 83 ff.; idem 1964, 326-43; Lanternari 1976. Gluckman 1963 describes a particularly interesting Swazi ritual, during which the king is temporarily dethroned and humiliated at the occasion of a festival of the First Fruits. Recently, Auffarth 1991, 9-15, has criticized Eliade's concept of 'the eternal return', and denounced the ideological motifs that lie hidden behind his ideas of creation and cyclical re-creation. There is much in this with which I can agree. A.'s main difference from Eliade is that he wishes to see the New Year festivals essentially as a threat of destruction ('Drohender Untergang"), which, thank God, does not come to realization, but is only experienced as a serious possibility. I am not sure that this is to be preferred over Eliade's ideas of 'extinction and re-creation', to which the complete imagery of these festivals clearly points. However, for the present issue it is not necessary to take sides in this debate. For when he himself characterizes the festivals of reversal A. does so in precisely the same terms, images and symbols as the ones made famous by Eliade-and his followers-( some of the most outspoken passages can be found on pp. 43; 70, 74-77, 150, 236, 257/8) and in this characterization he and I completely agree. 103 The death of a king may provoke the very same associations and imagery. Versnel 1980 and especially for Rome: J. Scheid, Contraria facere: renversements et deplacements dans les rites funeraires, A/ON (archeol) 6 (1984) 117-39. For similar images in the context of initiation see the preceding chapter.
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of the dead. Rites de separation (to use the terminology coined by van Gennep) may precede: purification, expulsion of the pharmakos (scapegoat), bloody sacrifices, extinction of fire; rites d 'aggregation follow: the wearing of new clothing, lighting of fire, renewal of kingship, the 'fixing of the fate' for the coming year. The chaos that is acted out ritually is often anchored mythically in primeval chaos, for instance in the image of the struggle between creator-god and chaosmonster, or of deluge and consequent re-creation, as we have seen in the Babylonian myth and ritual of the New Year. This primeval chaos manifests itself as a temporary elimination of all contours, a return to a state undefined by bounds and moral standards, expressing itself in the creation of monsters and monstrosities; a period of total freedom manifesting itself in both total lawlessness and total abundance 104 . This lends to the festival an atmosphere of complete ambivalence: sadness, anxiety, despair because of the catastrophe of the disrupted order; elation, joy and hope because of the liberation from chafing bonds, and the pleasant experience of temporary abundance. Thus the reversed world of society in crisis mirrors the cosmic chaos of mythical times, leaving aside the question of priority. Both these modern interpretations of the festival of reversal-the functionalist one (including the safety-valve effect and the confirmation of the status quo) and the cosmic-religious approach in terms of 'deep legitimacy' -will contribute to an interpretation of the intrinsic contradictions of the Kronos myth and ritual complex. 10 4 On chaos as "l'absolue liberte" and the ambiguity of the sentiments involved, see Eliade 1964, 76 and passim. Interestingly, Pausanias 8, 2, expresses his belief in the story that Lycaon was changed into a wolf, since in these mythical times the gods stil used to mingle with human beings (a typical Utopian image) and so men could either become gods or beasts (or worse). Chaos, in the sense of discontinuance of normality, can also be evoked by reversal of less vital conventions: wearing clothes inside out, eating forbidden food, naming objects by terms which express their reversed meanings etc. We have seen these practices in the context of initiation ( ch. 1), we now meet them again in New Year festivals. Particularly interesting: B. G. Meyerhoff, Return to Wirikuta: Ritual Reversal and Symbolic Continuity in the Peyote Hunt of the Huichol Indians, in: Babcock 1978, 225-40. Of course, ritual chaos is not as radical and total as the mythical one: there are boundaries, for instance in time and space. See: Meyerhoff, o.c.; M. Ozouf, Space and Time in the Festivals of the French Revolution, CSSH 17 (1975) 372-84, esp. 372. There were restraints on violence and licence: Burke 1978, 202; P. L. van den Berghe, Some Comments on Norbeck's African Rituals of Conflict, American Anthropologist 67 (1965) 485-9, esp. 485. There was a fixed closure: E. Norbeck, Religion in Human Life. Anthropological Views (New-York 1974) 38, often in the form of a conviction of the mock-prince: Burke 1978, 202.
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5.
THE AMBIGUITY OF THE KRONIA AND RELATED FESTIVALS
1. The paradox of the impossible harmony
Like the periods of licence known from anthropological literature, the Kronia (and similar festivals) have two aspects. The first one is the orgiastic aspect of the shared experience of merry-making and abundance in an atmosphere of dissolution of hierarchy, which includes a component of strong cohesion and solidarity 105 . Not only the slave, but everyone experiences the liberation as a temporary relaxation based on equality. Here, therefore, harmony prevails. This harmony, however, was experienced as unpleasantly ambiguous, as we learn from two closely related literary representations of ''The Dream of the Great Harmony" 106 : comedy and Utopia. Just like the festival of the Saturnalian type, comedy is-among other things-pre-eminently a medium for generating solidarity 107 • And like these festivals comedy may implement its task by the evocation of a reversed world. The resulting collective laughter is cohesive and marks the boundaries of the cognitive and affective territory of a group 108 . In Old Comedy, the representation of the land of Cockaigne, generally as an image of the golden primeval era, occasionally as a vision of the future, is a standard theme. In this imagery, the earth bears fruits of its own accord and the food offers itself ready cooked 109 . Quite frequently this automaton implies the superfluity of 10 5 On the cohesive force of Greek festivals in general see: F. Dunand, Sens et fonction de Ia tete dans Ia Grece hellenistique. Les ceremonies en l'honneur d' Artemis Leucophryene, DHA 4 (1978) 201-18. For Rome: Clavel-Leveque 1984, passim. On the cohesive qualities of communal eating as a 'bandstiftender Ritus': G. J. Baudy 1983, esp. 132. Cf. also Schindler 1984, 46, and more literature in the next chapter p.159, n.105. 106 "Der Traum von der grossen Harmonie" is the title of the German translation of J. Servier, Histoire de l'utopie (Munich 1971 ). 107 The relationship was already noticed by F. M. Cornford, The Origin of Attic Comedy (London 1914) 76 f. On the social function of Greek comedy see e.g.: Carriere 1979; David 1984. Very interesting observations in: Rosier 1986. Cf. W. von Koppenfels o.c. (above n.66); Segal 1970 (on Roman comedy, for which see also next chapter). 108 Cf. A. C. Zijderveld o.c. (above n.91) 47 ff. 109 "L'age d'or n'oppose pas un etat de nature a un etat civilise; il gomme entre eux toute difference. II presente les nourritures civilisees comme des produits spontanes de Ia nature que l'homme trouverait sans rien avoir a faire, deja cultives, recoltes, engranges, cuisines, tout prets a etre consommes": J.-P. Vernant, Sacrifice et alimentation humaine, ASNP Ser. III, 7 (1977) 939, and cf. idem on the 'Tables of the Sun', below n.114. On comedy as a Utopian representation general-
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labour and consequently of slaves: in Aristophanes' Birds 760-5 en passant, and in Krates' Wild animals (PCG IV F 16 Kassel/Austin) as the central theme of a discussion 110 . This image is also found in philosophers such as Empedocles (B 128 D-K) and Plato Rep. 271aD-272 B 111 . In complete freedom there was complete equality and complete abundance. In King Kronos' time "people even gambled with loaves of bread" (Kratinos PCG IV F 176 Kassel/ Austin), and Telekleides Amphictyones fr. 1 Kock describes a country where there were indeed slaves, who, however, did not work but "played at dice with pigs' vulvae and other delicacies''. By the way, we get an answer here to the obvious question: "We are often left wondering what people actually did in the Golden Age'' 112 . So, what we see is utter freedom, but it is actually too good to be true. Frequently, therefore, a few uncomfortable afterthoughts loom up in the same context. Pherecydes F.10 Kock describes a slaveless society, but also makes it perfectly clear that in consequence the women have to work their fingers to the bone in order to get the work done, and the fields are neglected so that people starve (idem F .13). In Herodotus 6, 137 113 , Hecataeus for the same reason makes the slaveless primeval situation end negatively via the labour of women and children. And ly: E.-R. Schwinge, Aristophanes und die Utopie, WJA 3 (1977) 43-67. On the truphe motif: H. Langerbeck, Die Vorstellung von Schlaraffenland in der alten attischen Komodie, Zeitschrift fur Volkskunde 59 ( 1963) 192-204; W. Fauth, Kulinarisches und Utopisches in der griechischen Komodie, WS 7 (1973) 39-62, with interesting remarks with respect to the issue under discussion on pp. 52, 56 and 61; A. Barchiesi, Lettura del secondo libro delle Georgiche, in: M. Gigante (ed. ), Lecturae Vergilianae (Naples 1982) 43-55. On the automaton motif: Gatz 1967, 118, and register B 1,1; H. J. dejonge, BOTPYC BOHCEI, in: M. J. Vermaseren (ed.), Studies in Hellenistic Religions (Leiden 1979) 37-49. Comedy could also present Golden Age imagery as the return to the simple agricultural life: C. Moulton, Aristophanic Poetry (Gottingen 1981) 104 ff. On the absence of slavery: R. von Pohlmann, Geschichte der sozialen Frage und des Sozialismus in der antiken Welt (Munich 1925 2); J. Pecirka, Aristophanes' Ekklesiazusen und die Utopien in der Krise der Polis, Wiss. Zeitschr. Humboldt Univ. zu Berlin, Gesellsch. -Sprachw. Reihe 12 (1963) 215 ff.; VidalNaquet 1981, 230 ff. 110 Athenaeus 6, 267e, "the poets of the Old Comedy, when they discuss the 'ancient way of life', assert that in those times slaves were not employed". 111 Theopompus FGrHist 115 F 215, says that in Arcadia masters and slaves were sitting at the same tables and sharing the same food and drink. 112 Blundell1986, 136. 113 On this passage as a conjunction of Utopia and Elysium: L. Gernet, La cite future et le pays des morts, in: idem, Anthropologie dela Grece antique (Paris 1968) 139; Vidal-Naquet 1981, 363.
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in his Utopian scheme for women, Aristophanes grants everybody equal property, but does not manage this without the labour of slaves. In other words: abundance, equality and abolition of slavery are all very well, but only for a short time or in an imaginary world. In such a chaos, reality would disintegrate. Herodotus 3, 18 relates an Ethiopian custom of laying 'a table of Helios': at night boiled meat is taken to a meadow and during the day everybody is allowed to eat it. The natives, however, say that it is the earth itself that time and again produces this food 114 . Here again the automaton/luxury motif is found in combination with the notion of equality. The sacrificial loaves in the temple of Kronos in Alexandria, which everybody was allowed to eat, come to mind 115 • Such images bring us to the concept of Utopia, which is also related to the Saturnalian feasts 116 . Here too elements of the automaton and 1 14 The Utopian aspects of Ethiopian imagery and of the 'Tables of the Sun' were recognized long ago: M. Hadas, Utopian Sources in Herodotus, CP 30 (1935) 113-21; T. Siifve-Soderberg, Zu den athiopischen Episoden bei Herodot, Eranos 44 (1946) 68-80; A. Lesky, Aithiopika, Hermes 87 (1959) 27-38. Recently J.-P. Vernant has devoted some interesting pages to the 'Table of the Sun': Les troupeaux du Solei! et Ia Table du Solei!, REG (1972) XIV-XVI, revised and enlarged in: Manger aux pays du Solei!, in: Detienne & Vernant 1979, 239-49. "Manger a Ia Table du Solei!, c'est se situer au-deJa" (p.247). Cf. also: R. Lonis, Les trois approches de l'ethiopien par !'opinion greco-romaine, Ktema 6 (1981) 69-87. 115 There are some remarkable associations which, if I am not mistaken, have gone unnoticed so far: Artemidorus Dreambook 1, 5, first relates that a man dreamt that he had dinner with Kronos, and when day came he was imprisoned (a very telling image of the Kronian paradox: temporary relaxation-normal position in chains). It is followed immediately by the story of a person who dreamt that he received two loaves of bread. Chance or a vague connection with the cult-practice of Alexandrian Kronos? Pausanias 6, 26, 1, after having related the spontaneous wine-miracles in Greece as a token of the presence ofDionysos (on which see: Inconsistencies I, 138), compares this with the Table of Helios. I wonder if the tradition of spontaneous meals offered by a god to humans, both in Aethiopia and Egypt (Alexandria), should somehow be connected with the well-known invitations by the god Sarapis to come to his kline. See the literature in Engelmann 1975, 43 f. Significantly, also in other contexts spontaneous creation fom the earth can be identified as a gift of the gods: the little vulcanic isle that rose spontaneously from the sea near Thera was called Automata and Hiera alternately: Strabo 1, 3, 16 (57); Seneca NQ 2, 26, 4-5; Plin. NH 2, 202; Iustin. 30, 4, 1-4. 116 Surveys in: H. C. Baldry, Ancient Utopia (Southampton 1956); J. Ferguson, Utopias of the Classical World (London 1975). As always far more inspiring: M. I. Finley, Utopianism, Ancient and Modern, in: idem, The Use and Abuse of History (London 1975) 178-92. On easy living e.g.: A. Giannini, Mito e utopia nella letteratura greca prima di Platone, RIL 101 ( 196 7) 109 ff. On the Phaeacians as an image of Utopia: Vidal-Naquet 1981, 60 ff. On Hellenistic Utopias see the literature cited by M. Zumschlinge, Euhemeros. Staats-theoretische und Staats-utopische Motive (Diss.
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easy living prevail: they are found as early as Homer's land of the Phaeacians, in the tales of the Hyperboreans, oflamboulos' Sun Islands and of Euhemeros' Panchaia. In the last two cases, slavery is absent. But these are Utopias of a fairy-tale nature ('utopia d'evasione'), which by definition lie at the edge of or beyond the edge of the world, the eschatiai, an all but unreachable land and at the same time a 'land of no return', like Elysium after death. Moreover, as Vidal-Naquet says: "Phaeacia is an ideal land and an impossible society'' 117 • This becomes all the more apparent as soon as the political or social Utopia takes on a model function as 'utopia di ricostruzione>1 18 and consequently is not absolutely inconceivable (Hippodamos, Plato, Aristotle). Then, labour is indispensable and slavery a matter of course 119 . In the Messianic Utopian vistas accompanying the accession of Roman emperors we also find in great detail all the themes of abundance and isonomia, the annulment of debts and disappearance of poverty-all this sometimes summarized as a liberation from chains 120-but there is (of course) no mention of a liberation of slaves. What is possible in the fairy-tale is undesirable-and even threatening-in real life. Lucian (Saturn. 33) says that equality is most pleasant at table, but that Kronos grants this equality only during holidays (ibid. 30). Such aspects of the Kronia reveal a marked ambivalence in the Greek concept of harmony: the ideal of freedom and abundance is
Bonn 1976). On the absence of slavery in Utopias the fundamental discussion by Vogt, Slavery in Greek Utopias, RSA 1 (1971) 19-32 = idem, Ancient Slavery and the Ideal of Man (Cambridge Mass. 1975) 26-38, esp. 29 ff.; Gatz 1967, 127 and register B4c. 117 In: Gordon 1981, 93. 1 18 The terms are introduced by Giannini o.c. (above n.116). 1!9 The paradox is explicitly formulated by Arist. Polit. 1, 4, 1253B 33 ff., "If every tool we had could perform its function, either at our bidding or itself perceiving the need, like the statues that were made by Daedalus or the wheeled tripods of Hephaestus ( .... ) and if the shuttles in the loom could fly to and fro or a plectrum play on a lyre automatically, the manufacturers would have no need of assistants nor masters of slaves". Similarly, Ar. Eccl. 583 ff. makes Praxagora describe the ideal communist society in which women have taken over the government, but on the question who would work the land she answers: "the slaves" (651). Cf.]. Pecirka o.c. (above n.109). 120 See the references to epigraphical sources: Versnel1980, 551 ff. The literary sources in Gatz 1967, 131 ff. I shall return to these expressions in the next chapter. Release from fetters e.g. in Philo Legatio ad Gaium 146, a common element in the imagery of the coming of the millennium: W. A. Meeks, The First Urban Christians. The Social World of the Apostle Paul (New Haven and London 1983) 184 ff.
J.
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unstable; it cannot last, because it carries the seed of real social anomie and anarchy. It is a dangerous game, just like the diceplaying allowed to the slaves: during the Saturnalian festival the relationships are open, the dice are thrown and there is the possibility that it is not the master but the slave who will win. This, however, would not be equality but the world turned upside down.
2. The paradox of the festive conflict The second socially functional aspect of the Kronia and related festivals is that of the reversal of roles. Here the imagery is not marked by the idea of harmony; on the contrary, there is intensified and formalised conflict: the hierarchy is inverted. Cockaigne and the reversed world very frequently go hand in hand. In literature it is often the occurrence of adunata that herald the coming of the Golden Age 121 . But the radical shifting of boundaries in role-reversal offers not only greater boisterousness but also deeper disturbance: here, anarchy has a truly subversive character. Once again, comparisons with comedy 12 2 and Utopia are enlightening. The freedom of slaves in Old Comedy never entails their dominance. Aristophanes experiments to the very limit with reversal between the sexes, but he is extremely reticent on the topic of reversal between slaves and citizens. Slaves do not even assist in the revolution of women: "De pouvoir servile, il n'est pas et il ne peut pas etre question" 123 (there can be no question of power in the hands of slaves, ever). The reason is evident: even as a comic scene, this image would meet with resistance; slave rebellion was a structurally feared phenomenon, and by no means an imaginary one. 121 Kenner 1970, 70, gives examples and literature in n.214. A combination of adunata such as talking trees, fish and sparrows, fellowship between men and gods and food growing from the earth: Babrius in the prologue to his collection. S. Luria, Die Ersten werden die Letzten sein, Klio 22 (1929) 405-31, unnecessarily regards these as two successive stages of a historical process. 122 According to one tradition (Platonios CGF p. 3 ff., and Scholion ad Dionysios Thrax, ibid. p. 12) comedy was 'invented' by peasants who staged their protest against the injustice they suffered. Cf. E.-R. Schwinge, Alte Komodie und attische Demokratie. Notizen zu ihrer Interdependenz, in: Literatur in der Demokratie. Fur W }ens zum 60. Geburtstag (Munich 1983) 236-45. 123 Vidal-Naquet 1981, 226 and 267-88; cf. P. P. Spranger, Historische Untersuchungen zu den Sklavenfiguren des Plautus und Terenz, Abh.Mainz (1960) 662 ff. = 110 ff.; Loraux 1981, 157-96; Carriere 1979; L. Bertelli, L'utopia sulla scena: Aristofane e Ia parodia della citta, CCC 4 (1983) 215-63. David 1984 rightly contrasts this with the general criticism of social misuses.
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127
It would be even more surprising to find rule by slaves in Utopia 124 . It is possible to imagine a reversed world, often transformed in images from the animal world in which the weak gain the victory 125 , for instance in the chiliastic expectation of salvation, but slaves ruling society is a notion that can enter the heads of slaves alone. As a matter of fact, Eunous, the leader of a slave revolt in Sicily, does call himself king and has his former masters wait upon him. Similarly, the Circumcelliones have their carts pulled by their former lords 126 . This might have been their idea, but it certainly was not the idea. It is precisely one of the principal tasks of ritual, drama and wishful thinking to channel and neutralise any excessive inclinations in this direction. The reversal of roles is supposed to confirm and legitimise its opposite, not itself. Ritual is more direct than literary representation. Hence, ritual reversal, however necessary as a 'holiday' oflimited duration, by its nature includes a strongly threatening component. Adunata and images of reversal may, as has been said, precede or accompany the Golden Age, but they also, and often, precede or accompany apocalyptic catastrophe. In stark contrast to the Messianic images of reversal during the early imperial era, Tertullian Apologeticum 20: "humble ones are raised, high ones are brought down", serves as an announcement not of the realm of bliss but of a period of chaos and catastrophe: "justice becomes a rarity ... the natural shapes are replaced by monsters", exactly as in Egyptian prophecies and elsewhere 127 . Once again it appears that reversal may point in two Seej. Vogt o.c. (above n.116). H. v.d. Waal (ed.), lconclass. An Iconographic Classification System vol. 2-3, bibliography s.v. 'mundus inversus', 29 A, gives a survey of the iconographical representations. 126 On the messianistic side of Eunous' revolt see: P. Green, The first Sicilian Slave War, P&P22 (1962) 87-93. On the Circumcellions: Versnel1980, 552, and P. G. G. M. Schulten, De Circumcellionen. Een sociaal-religieuze beweging in de late oudheid (Diss. Leiden 1984). The master serving as mount is a popular image in comical situations: Plautus, Asin. 700 ff.; Phyllis riding Aristotle was an ever recurring motif in stories, paintings and household objects from the thirteenth to the seventeenth century inclusive: N. Zemon Davies, in: Babcock 1978, 161 ff. Similar revolutionary reversals are common throughout history. When, in 1525, during the German peasant war the peasants occupied the houses of their lords, they claimed their places at table and had themselves served by the knights, saying: "Heut, Junkerlein, syn wir Teutschmeister (knights)": Burke 1978, 189. 127 On these very interesting Egyptian prophecies see e.g.: S. Luria o.c. (above n.121 ); J. Bergman, Introductory Remarks on Apocalypticism in Egypt, and J. Assman, Konigsdogma und Heilserwartung. Politische und kultische Chaos124 125
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directions: to total freedom = abundance, and to total freedom = lawlessness and chaos. One of the implications is that rites of rebellion carry the seeds of real revolution. Aeneas Tacticus 22, 17, states that festivals are the most frequent occasions of revolution in the state 128 , and that applies a fortiori to those festivals that carry an element of ritual rebellion, as is illustrated by the rich tradition of carnival and revolution in particular 129 • In both aspects of the legitimate licentia, the harmonious and the conflictive, we observe a violent contradiction: on the one hand, they aim at relaxation by means oflaughter, elation and abundance; on the other hand, they refer to the impossible and the undesirable: chaos, revolution, and, in close alliance with these, murder and manslaughter, lawlessness, the disintegration of society. What is a social ambiguity here is also the structural theme in the cosmicmythical model of the realm of Kronos.
beschreibungen in Aegyptischen Texten, both in: D. Hellholm (ed.), Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East (Tiibingen 1983) 51-60 and 345-78. Generally on adynata: E. Dutoit, Le theme de l'adynaton dans la poesie antique (Paris 1936). 128 Some instances: Xen. Hell. 4, 4, 2-4; Aen. Tact. 17, 3; Diod. 13, 104, 5; 15, 40, 2; 16, 36, 3; Plut. Marc. 18, 3; Liv. 4, 37; lustin. 43, 4, 6-11. Cf. A. Fuks, Slave war and slave troubles in Chios in the third century BC, in: idem, Social Coriflict in Ancient Greece (Jerusalem 1984) 260-9; Baudy 1986, 221. For this reason some cities were carefully guarded during festivals of Dionysos (Aen. Tact. 17, 4) or during the Floralia (Massilia: lustin. 43, 4, 6-11). Cf. Graf1985b, 79. W. R. Connor,JHS 107 (1987) 41, mentions an "apparent convergence between festivals and political disturbances", referring toT. Figueira, Hesperia 53 (1984) 447-73, who observed that the principal periods of instability in the early sixth century in Athens coincide with the years of the Great Panathenaia. Generally on the connections between rebellion and religion: Chr. Grottanelli, Archaic Forms of Rebellion and their Religious Background, in: Lincoln 1985, 15-45. Note that in situations of reversal or revolution the positions of women and slaves largely correspond or even coincide: Vidal-Naquet 1981, 267-88 = idem, Slavery and the Rule of Women in Tradition, Myth and Utopia, in: Gordon 1981, 187-200; F. Graf, Women, War, and Warlike Divinities, ZPE 55 (1984) 245-54. Festivals are also ideal opportunities for sudden attack: L.A. Losada, The Fifth Column in the Peloponnesian War (Leiden 1972) 101; 111 f. 129 One has been made famous by the treatment by E. LeRoy Ladurie, Le Carnaval de Romans (Paris 1979). Cf. generally: Weidkuhn 1969, 289-306. Scribner 1978 argues that carnival was exploited as an instrument to clear the way towards Reformation. See for further literature: Bremmer 1983, 118 n.133. On female 'revolutions' see: N. Z. Davis, Women on Top: Symbolic Sexual Inversion and Political Disorder in Early Modern Europe, in: Babcock 1978, 147-90. Generally on the connections between religion and rebellion: Lincoln 1985.
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6.
129
THE KING OF A PRIMEVAL REVERSED WORLD
Like other cultures, Athens had several New Year festivals. One of these, the Anthesteria 130 , shows an all but complete set of characteristics of the 'grande festa': the opening of the wine-jars (primitiae situation); licentia in the form of ridicule and abuse; collective winedrinking in which children and slaves were allowed to share; and a sacred wedding of the king. In addition to these joyous aspects there are threatening elements: the arrival ofKares or Keres, primeval inhabitants or ghosts of the dead who are given a warm welcome and subsequently wished away; banquets for the dead; the temporary closing down of the temples in an atmosphere of doom. In all respects there is clearly a temporary return to chaos in its twin aspects of 'absolute freedom', mythically represented in the commemoration of deluge and re-creation on the last day of the festival. The official New Year's Day, however, fell in midsummer, in the month of Hekatombaion, a month that was formerly called Kronion. Two veritable New Year festivals, the Synoikia and the Panathenaea, are preceded by two festivals that have the typical structure of the incision festival, marking the period 'in between': the Skira and the Kronia 131 . The Skira, on 12 Skirophorion, shows the following characteristics: an apopompe of the priests and the primeval king out of the city-in the myth the king is killed; women, at liberty to call meetings, take over men's roles; boisterous fun and playing at dice; a sacrifice of an ox, which is called disertis verbis bouphonia, 'ox-murder'. A complex, therefore, in which joy and gloom unite in role reversals and the abolition of the normal social relationships 132 . These festivals are not connected with Kronos, but the Kronia festival, in which, as we have seen, role reversal and licentia dominate, and which falls between Skira and the New Year festivals, is emphat130 On the Anthesteria see the discussions and literature in Burkert 1983, 213-43; GR 237-42; Bremmer 1983b, 108-20; and now exhaustively: Auffarth 1991, 202-76. He comes to the very same conclusions as I do with respect to the Kronia as he acknowledges by adopting my formulation from the first version of the present paper on Kronos: "Die Verhii.ltnisse der goldenen Zeit in ihrer Ambivalenz von Eutopie und Dystopie, diese Utopie wird in den Grenzen des festlichen Spiels Reali tat'' (258). 131 A good survey of this range of feasts in Burkert GR, 227-34. On the Synoikia as festival of the "auslosung der politischen Einheit": Graf 1985b, 134. 132 On the Skira as a festival of reversal: Burkert 1983, 143-49. On the bouphonia: J.-L. Durand, Sacrifice et labour en Grece ancienne (Paris 1986).
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ically dedicated to Kronos, in the month that originally bore his name. In light of the cosmic-religious interpretation of the festivals surrounding the turn of the year, several of our earlier observations suddenly take on an understandable and structural meaning. ''Kronos ist mythologisch, nicht kultisch'', Nilsson said. He is more right than he realised; indeed, this statement touches the heart of the matter. During many a festival of incision-although this is not known of the Kronia -one of the expressions for the stagnation of 'normal' existence is the closing down of the temples 133 : the contact with the gods currently ruling is broken, the pre-Olympian era returns temporarily. It is precisely Kronos' mythical character as god of a primordial time that explains his presence in the un-cultic vacuum between the times. He is primeval chaos in person, in its dual aspect of freedom as a joy and freedom as a threat. Lacking fixed boundaries, there is a high degree of 'entropy'. The unstable equilibrium may be upset at any time. Ritually, this is expressed by, among other things, the freedom to play dice and gamble. In this chaos between times, fate still must be determined: 'the fixing of the fate' in Babylon is an annual re-creation, while in Italy Fortuna Primigenia reigns when Jupiter is still puer 134 . Everything is still unsettled, including the question of who will be boss: slave or master. In Greece too this mythical era before history or this time between the times is characterised by 'abnormal' creatures which do not fall into natural categories: Kronos' era is the period of giants, creatures with a hundred hands, Cyclopes and other monsters 135 . The Thessalian Peloria festival-a typical reversal festival-refers to mythical giants from the primeval era 136 . As 'masks' they may return temporarily See: Auffarth 1991, 229-31. See the pertinent observations by Brelich 1949/50, 16 ff., to which we shall return in the next chapter. Cf. for gambling, plays of chance, competition and mimicry in this type of rituals: V. W. Turner, Carnaval in Rio: Dionysian Drama in an Industrializing Society, in: F. E. Manning (ed.), The Celebration of Society. Perspectives on Contemporary Cultural Performance (Ohio 1983), 104-10, on: 'varieties of playful experience'. 135 J.-P. Vernant, L'autre de l'homme. La face de Gorgo, in: M. Olender ( ed. ), Le racisme. Mythes et sciences. Melanges Poliakov (Bruxelles 1981) 141-56, illuminatingly demonstrates how the Gorgo unites oppositions (masculine and feminine, young and old, beautiful and ugly, human and beastly) and thus evokes a disorder which is experienced as extremely threatening. Here is precosmic chaos, composed into one horrible being. 136 Thus Nilsson 1906, 37. The Pelores are unconvincingly interpreted as the (great) ancestors by Meuli 1975 I, 298 ff., following P. von der Miihll, Ausgewiihlte 133
134
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in the period of crisis between the times. In fact this is a variation of the return of the dead, who also belong to another time and another reality: the world of the dead, too, is 'upside down>1 37 and shows the ambivalence of "damonische Bedrohung oder die eschatologische V erheissung'' (demonic threat or the eschatological promise) 138 . In the form of the Kares or Keres the two images of primeval creatures and the dead seem to intermingle 139. Kronos is the god in chains: already in Hesiod the terms 'binding' and 'fettering' are typically connected with his myth. His statue is 'chained', perhaps already in the Hellenistic period, certainly in Rome. Kronos does exist, but only in mythical times: before the present reality (during the primeval era), or after it (death), or at the outermost edges of this reality (the eschatiaz). He is either a prisoner or asleep. In this perspective I would tentatively propose to interpret his representations with covered head as follows: generally, in the Greek and Roman world, covering or wrapping up the head indicates that the person concerned is (temporarily) withdrawn from the present reality and is in (or in immediate contact with) 'the other reality' 140 . This is precisely the essence of Kronos. His era, however, returns once more in the chaos of the Festival of Old and New: he is unchained, he wakes up or he is revived and again assumes kingship for a limited period: the return of the basileus, a term and a concept that for Greek and certainly for Athenian ears carries the primordial connotation of the beginning of time 141 , as elsewhere, too, the return of the wish-time is closely connected with the figure of a king (the return of the 'sleeping' king, Saturnalius princeps, rex, prince Carnival, slave risings with 'royal' leaders such as Eunous). kleine Schrijten (Basel1975) 436-41. Cf. Bremmer 1983a, 123. Even less can I accept that "the name Peloria is most naturally taken as designating the tables heaped with food": Robertson o.c. (above n.45) 8. 137 Smith 1978, 141-71. 138 B. Gladigow, Jenseitsvorstellungen und Kulturkritik, ZRGG 26 (1974) 308; cf. n.28 above on the similarities between the imagery of Utopia and the Isles of the Blessed. 139 Auffarth 1991, 233-5, offers the most fortunate discussion of this 'double identity', adducing the illuminating parallel of the Israelite Rephaim. 140 H. Freyer, Caput velare (Diss. Tiibingen 1963) gives the (Roman) evidence but is not very satisfactory in his interpretations. Cf. below, chapter V, on the human victims of the ver sacrum, who were made sacer and forced to leave their country capite velati. 141 See e.g.: R. Drews, Basileus. The Evidence for Kingship in Geometric Greece (New Haven and London 1983) 7-9.
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His rule refers to the dual freedom of unlimited abundance and abolition of the established hierarchy, on the one hand, and of the absence oflaw and standards, including rebellion, on the other. All this is expressed by the mythical and ritual images that we have described in the first part of this chapter, the Utopian images of abundance and euphoria and the opposite ones of the absence of moral standards, inhumanity and revolt. 7. CoNcLusioNs Our conclusions can be expressed concisely because they are in fact obvious from and implied in the foregoing. We have asked how we can explain the violent contradictions in Kronos' myth and ritual if we are not satisfied with the emergency solutions that resort to the fortuities of derivation, acculturation and evolution. Our solution142 is that the contradiction between the joyous and the frightening aspects of the Kronos complex is a structural characteristic of the god and his religious context. The explanation of this lies in his function as god of the periods of reversal and chaos. We have found that there are ambiguities on two levels. In the functionalist view, the legitimate anarchy comes close to the limits of the permissible. The collective culinary orgy as well as, afortiori, the reversed hierarchy contain the seeds of the socially impossible and undesirable. The oxymoron of euphoria and panic reaches a paroxysm in the Rhodian Kronia: the victim is given large amounts of wine to drink and then murdered. In the cosmic-religious view, on the other hand, abundance and role-reversal appear to be images of the renewed experience of primeval chaos that is simultaneously Utopia and its reverse: the relaxation of the banquets of the Golden Age under Kronos in one and the same image as the 'sardonic' tension ofKro142 There have been stimulating suggestions in previous works. I mention in particular: Meuli 1975 II, 1043-82, and 'Der Ursprung der Fastnacht', ibid. I, 283-99; Brelich 1949/50, and 1976, 83-95; Graf 1985b, 83. Cf. Burkert GR, 198: "Kronos, the god of the first age, of reversal, and possibly of the last age", and 232: "and so at his festival there is a reversion to that ideal former age, but a reversion th~t of course cannot last". More generally, G. Dumezil, Le problbne des Centaures. Etude de mythologie comparee indo-europeenne (Paris 1929) had a keen eye for the ambiguities of carnivalesque New Year festivals. That Utopian expectations concerning a near or far future are so scarce in Greece can be explained from the general fact that "while speculations about the past were abundant, explicit pronounce· ments about the future are surprisingly rare": E. R. Dodds, The Ancient Concept of Progress (Oxford 1973) 2. Cf. B. A. van Groningen, In the Grip of the Past (1953).
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nos' Thyestian repasts 143 . This means that on both levels the contradiction is a structural characteristic of Kronos' myth and ritual. In this connection the words of B. Lincoln, speaking of 'interstitial' situations, are worth quoting: "What is constant in all instances is the fundamental perception that it is anomalies such as theseplaces outside space, moments outside time; people and things beyond easy classification-that are most dangerous and most creative as well 144 ". Consequently, attempts to soften the contradiction or 'render it harmless' via an exclusive appeal to historical development or elimination of one of the contrasting components are not only superfluous but fatefully veil its essential meaning. Our initial question concerned the relationship between myth and ritual. How are we to see this relationship in the case at hand and to what extent is mutual dependence present here? W. B. Kristensen wrote long ago: "Saturnus was a slave himself'~ 45 . He was berated for his folly and praised for his courage 146 . The brachylogy of this phrase inevitably led to misunderstandings. None the less it refers directly to the question we have asked ourselves. Is the mythical 'unchaining' of Kronos a projection of the slave's freedom at festivals such as the Kronia? Or, on the other hand, was the myth of the Golden Age the model for the relaxation of the Kronian festivals? Furthermore, how are we, then, to interpret the dependence of the dark and cruel aspects of myth and rite: was human sacrifice the example or the imitation of Kronos' mythical atrocities? It will be clear by now that in this case there can be no question of such a one-sided dependence of myth and rite, in any direction. By no means do I deny that the myth and ritual complex we have described is a crystallised product of processes to which many influences-non-Greek as well as Greek-have contributed and 143 Katepine-not only in Hes. Theog. (above p.91; cf. W. Burkert in: Bremmer 1987a, 38 n.57) but also in Plato, Euthyphro 6A and Apollod. 1, 1, 5-is the very expression of this gluttony run wild. 144 Lincoln 1982. Comparably, V. W. Turner in: Babcock 1978, 279, on liminal situations: "Liminal symbols tend to be ambiguous, equivocal, neutral, ambisexual rather than classificatory reversals. This is because liminality is conceived of as a season of silent, secret growth, a mediatory movement between what was and what will be where the social process goes inward and underground for a time that is not profane time". 145 Kristensen o.c. (above n.26) 15. 146 "Einfach absurd": Bomer 1961 III, 425; "un lavoro geniale per impostazione e per alcuni intuizioni": Brelich 1949/50, 16 n.3.
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whose details escape us 147 . But the tenets of anthropology and comparative religion now enable us to outline a fresh hypothesis about the fundamental connection between the mythical and ritual components underlying this process of assimilation and evolution. In the domain of ritual it all started with a-presumably agricultural-festival. Perhaps this festival was somehow connected with the stagnation in the 'cereal' year in July and August (did it clinch the storage of the corn harvest, as did the Roman Consualia, similarly in August, as we shall see in the next chapter?). For reasons that escape us the festival was devoted to the god Kronos. We do know that, in historical times, it was firmly anchored in a festive complex which marked the transition from the old to the new year and that, accordingly, it was celebrated with rites of role reversal. In the domain of myth our starting point is the observation that Kronos, for whatever reason, disappeared from active cult and became a 'mythical' god, and that this god (consequently?) was considered to be a representative of the mythical era before history proper, which began with Zeus and the Olympians. As far as we can see, these two sets of data, the ritual and the mythical, represent independent phenomena. However, both were open to closely related associations, which can be summarized in the notion of 'absence of order'. The ritual displayed an atmosphere which the myth projected onto the precosmic era. Mythically, the primeval era is represented in many cultures as a chaos of an am big14 7 Perhaps a new piece of evidence may eventually throw more light on the origins of the relationship of Kronos and the Kronia. I owe this information toW. Burkert by a letter d.d. 19-1-1992. It concerns a new Hurritic-Hittite bilingual, published in KBo 32 (1990), and discussed by E. Neu, Das Hurritische: Eine altorientalische Sprache in neuem Licht, Abh.Mainz (1988) 3. The text contains a "Song of release', referring to the liberation of slaves and the remission of debts, well-known from ancient Near-Eastern cultures (cf. the Hebrew 'Jubilee'). However, the text offers also a mythological introduction: "The Sungoddess of the Earth" invites the Weathergod Teshub, and together they descend into the dark earth, the abode of the 'primeval gods', with whom they celebrate a feast. During that feast they confirm king Emar's obligation to implement the 'release'. In his analysis of this fascinating piece of evidence (forthcoming in: Karnevaleske Phiinomene in antiken und nachantiken Kulturen und Literaturen [Bochum 1993]) Burkert argues that, as Neu had already seen, this ritual of slave release goes together with a temporary suspension of the separation of heaven and earth, including the separation of the "primeval gods" [now out of action] and the reigning generation of gods. He points out the striking analogy with Greek Kronos and the Kronia. All this might indicate a more pervasive (and complex) influence of oriental prototypes then was so far assumed.
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uous nature: there is a positive, Utopian side coupled with references to the catastrophic aspects of the annihilation of human values. Equally, we find the same ambiguity in the absence of order in ritual: abundance, on the one hand, and reversal of roles on the other. Here 'abnormality' may lead to associations with murder in the form of human sacrifice. Both myth and rite 'say' the same thing: the Utopian cannot, the reverse Utopian must not exist in reality. In myth, this is expressed by the projection of these images onto the eschatiai of time and space, Kronos' mythical territory. In ritual it is expressed by realising the impossible for just a few hours or days and thus underlining its exceptional character: the relaxation and reversal are indeed subservient to society's proper functioning, but as images of either the impossible or the undesirable and therefore as exceptions-"denn Freiheit ist etwas, das womoglich noch schwerer zu ertragen ist als Herrschaft" (for perhaps freedom is even harder to endure than dominion) 148 . Whereas such festivals are understood widely as a temporary return to chaos-and show by their nature every characteristic of it-, in Greece it was natural to associate them with the precosmic era of myth, which was thought to return for one day. Both, however, though-as far as we can see-for quite different reasons, were associated with the god Kronos. All this justifies the conclusion that we have in this complex an example of correspondence between myth and rite in ''structure and atmosphere", and in such a way that both "symbolic processes deal with the same type of experience in the same affective mode'', and this "pari passu", according to the postulates referred to in the introductory section of the present chapter. 148 Weidkuhn 1969, 302. Cf. Balandier 1972, 116. I have discussed the ambiguity of freedom in the Hellenistic world at length in the first chapter of Inconsistencies I.
CHAPTER THREE
SATURNUS AND THE SATURNALIA Liminal symbols tend to be ambiguous, equivocal, neutral, ambisexual rather than classificatory reversals. This is because liminality is conceived of as a season of silent, secret growth, a mediatory movement between what was and what will be, where the social process goes inward and underground for a time that is not profane time. V.W. Turner
1.
THE EVIDENCE
1. Saturn The many conspicuous features that Roman Saturn and Greek Kronos had in common encouraged an early assimilation. We are wellinformed about some common traits, especially the nature of their festivals, the Saturnalia and the Kronia. But the gods share enigmatic aspects too: the mystery of their 'original' nature; their provenance; and the question of alleged derivations of cult elements from foreign sources. I shall first give a survey of the most relevant evidence-for full information the reader should consult the abundant modern literature 1 . 1 Besides the articles in the well-known handbooks or encyclopedias (especially the one by M. P. Nilsson in RE II, 2, 1 [1921] 201-11) and articles on special details mentioned in the footnotes below, the following works are basic: J. Albrecht, Saturnus. Seine Gestalt in Sage und Kult (Diss. Halle 1943); F. Bomer, Untersuchungen uber die Religion der Sklaven in Griechenland und Rom III (AbhMainz 1961) 173-95 ( = 415-37); M. Le Glay, Saturne africain. Histoire (Paris 1966), esp. 449-78; A. Brelich, Tre variazioni romane sul tema delle origini (Rome 19762) 83-95; Ch. Guittard, Recherches sur Ia nature de Saturne des origines a Ia reforme de 21 7 avant J. -C., in: R. Bloch (ed.), Recherches sur les religions de l'Italie antique (Geneve-Paris 1976) 43-71; idem, Saturnifanum injaucibus (Varro LL 5, 42): a propos de Saturne et de !'asylum, in: Melanges P. Weuilleumier (Paris 1980) 159-66; idem, Saturnia Terra: mythe et realite, Caesarodunum 15 his (1980) 177-86; D. Briquel, Iuppiter, Saturne et le Capitole. Essai de comparaison indo-europeenne, RHR 198 (1981) 131-62; P. Pouthier,Ops et la conception divine de l'abondance dans la religion romainejusqu'd la mort d'Auguste (Rome 1981 ); B. H. Krause, Iuppiter Optimus Maximus Saturnus. Ein Beitrag
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Like Kronos in Greece, Saturn had scarcely any cultic reality in Italy pace Dion. Hal. 1, 34, 52 • In Rome his cult was restricted to one sanctuary, the famous temple 3 on the slopes of the Capitoline hill, eight columns of which are still in situ. The treasure of state, the aerarium Saturni, was kept in the cellars of this temple. It was also the place where the quaestors administered the mint. Various series of Roman coins bore the portrait of the god. There was an official pair of scales in the temple and official charters are reported to have been published on walls in the immediate neigbourhood 4 . This unique temple of Saturn constitutes one of the oldest cult places of Rome. Before its foundation there had been a very ancient altar 5 and the temple itself was said to have been founded in or around 497 BC 6 ,
zur ikonographischen Darstellungen Satums (Trierer Winckelmannsprogram 5, 1983). These works will be cited by name and date henceforth. As I had originally planned this chapter as a section of my contribution to Bremmer 1987a, together with my paper on Kronos, the basic parts had been written when I saw Graf 1985, who provides a short but perceptive analysis of the main features of the Saturnalian festival on p.90-93. 2 Dion. Hal. 1, 34, 5, tells us that sanctuaries of 'Kronos' were ubiquitous in Italy, but archaeology by no means confirms this view. Nor does epigraphy: in his appendix 'Inscriptions a Saturne hors d' Afrique', Le Glay 1966, 340-3, records only 33 instances. As far as they are Italic (27 x ) there are only 7 inscriptions from central Italy; the rest are from North Italy, where a Celtic God hides behind this name. Cf. C. B. Pascal, The Cults of Cisalpine Gaul (Bruxelles 1964) 176-9; F. Sartori, Un dedica a Saturno in Val d'Ega, Atti VII Ce SDIR (1975-6) 583-600. 3 H. Jordan, Topographie der Stadt Rom I, 2 (Berlin 1871) 360 ff.; S. B. PlatnerTh. Ashby, A Topographical Dictionary ofAncient Rome (Oxford-London 1929) 463 f.; G. Lugli, Roma Antica. Il centro monumentale (Rome 1946) 148-51; F. Castagnoli, Foro Romano (Rome 1957); Coarelli 1983, 199 ff.; P. Pensabene, Tempio di Saturno. Architettura e decorazione (Rome 1984). 4 Aerarium Saturni: Thes.L.L. I, 1055 ff.; Plut. Poplic. 12; QR 42; Paul. ex Festo 2, 14 (L); Macrob. Sat. 1, 8, 3; Serv. Georg. 2, 502. See: M. Corbier, L'Aerarium Saturni et l'Aerarium militare (Rome 1974). Coins: Babelon, Monnaie de la republique romaine I, 288 no. 5; 399 no. 24; II, 188 no. 14 f.; 214 no. 2; 216 no. 8; Sydenham, TheCoinageoftheRomanRepublic(London 1952)nos. 73, 79, 90,102,123,124. Cf. Krause 1983, passim. The balance: Varro, L.L 5, 183. On the enigmatic text in Varro L. L 5, 42: post aedem Saturni in aedificiorum legibus privatis parietes 'postici muri' sunt scripti, generally interpreted as 'charters' (cf. Cass. Dio 45, 17, 3); see also: H. Erkel!, Varroniana, ORom 13 (1981) 35. 5 Fest. 430, 35 (L); Serv. Aen. 2, 116; 8, 319; Macrob. Sat. 1, 8, 2; Varro L.L. 5, 42:fanum infaucibus. Cf. Guittard 1980a and the discussion below p.179. 6 Dion. Hal. 6, 1, 4; Liv. 2, 21, 2, with Ogilvie's note. Pensabene o.c. (above n.3) 12-5, gives the full evidence. Cf. E. Gjerstad, The Temple of Saturn in Rome: Its Date of Dedication and the Early History of the Sanctuary, in: Hommages A. Grenier II (Bruxelles 1962) 757-62. Latte 1960, 254 n.2, thinks that the temple was founded circa 400 BC, but this must be the second temple.
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on the 17th of December, the day of the Saturnalia 7 . However, like Kronos, the god who was worshipped here was ''une divinite dechue" (a fallen god)8 . The origins of the god and his name are lost in the haze of prehistory. Etymologies which connect the name with Latin sera/ satus are linguistically untenable 9 . Connections with Etruscan Satre deserve more serious consideration 10 . More distant relations with a great Phrygian god Satre have been suggested 11 . But even if Etruscan influences could be ascertained, the fixed position of the festival in the oldest Roman festive calendar 12 and the occurrence of the name in the ancient carmen Saliare 13 seem to betray an ltalo-Roman origin of the god. The Romans themselves regarded Saturn as the original ruler of the Capitolium, which, as they asserted, was called Mons Saturnius in ancient times 14 . 7 Fest. 432, 9 (L), Saturno dies festus celebratur mense Decembre, quod eo aedis est dedicata; Fasti Amit. 17 Dec. 8 Le Glay 1966, 450, adding: "mais nous devinons son antique grandeur". 9 Fest. 202, 17 (L); 432, 19 (L); Varro, L.L. 5, 64; Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 20; Arnob. 4, 9; Lact. Div. lnst. 1, 23, 5; Aug. C.D. 7, 13. The connection with sero is still defended by some modern scholars (see the survey in Le Glay 1966, 450 n.1 0) but is refuted by the length of the a in Saturnus. Cf. Saeturnus in GIL 12 449; Paul. ex Fest. 323 (L) Sateurnus. Cf. Bomer 1961 III, 183; idem, Ovids Fasten I, 234 and see: LEW s.v. Radke 1979 2 still defends derivation from sa- and explains the name as "der die Absicht, (sc. den Menschen) die Veranlassung zum Siien zu bringen, sie das Siien zu lehren, ausgefiihrt hat"(!). Cf. idem 1987, 84 ff. See for the agrarian function of Saturn below pp .165-1 71. 10 W. Schulze, Zur Geschichte lateinischer Eigennamen (Berlin 1904) 181; G. Herbig, Satre-Saturnus, Philologus 74 (1917) 446-59. On the element ae in Saeturnus as an indication of Etruscan influence: A. Ernout, Les elements etrusques du vocabulaire latin, in: idem, Philologica I (Paris 1946) 50. An Etruscan origin of the name had already been proposed by J. Scaliger, M. Ter. Varronis 'De lingua latina' (1581) 30: "Porro Saturni nomen Tuscum esse omnes mihi concedent". Cf. Guittard 1976, 50. Etruscan influence is perhaps also confirmed by the fact that Saturn figures conspicuously in the Libri Sibyllini, which betray Etruscan influences: R. Bloch, Origines etrusques des Livres Sibyllins, Melanges A. Ernout (Paris 1940) 25 f.; Pfiffig 1975, 312 f. VanderMeer 1987, 126-8, regards Etruscan Satre as an Etruscization of Italo-Roman Saturn, which does not convince me. 11 P. Kretschmer, Saturnus, Die Sprache 2 (1950) 65-71. Different suggestions: Kleine Pauly s.v. Saturnus, 1570 f.; Guittard 1976, 43 f. 12 See the evidence in Le Glay 1966, 453 n.6. The low dating of the Numanic calendar by A. Kirsopp Michels, The Calendar of the Roman Republic (Princeton 1967) 125-7 and 207-20 (so already eadem, The Calendar of Numa and the Prejulian Calendar, TAPhA 80 [ 1949] 320-46), has been rightly attacked by A. Degrassi, Fasti anni Numani et luliani. lnscr. Italiae XIII 2 (1963) pp. XIX f.; Le Bonniec 1958, 110 ff., with bibliography. Coarelli 1983, 206, dates the calendar to circa 600 BC. 13 Fest. 432, 19 (L). 14 VarroL.L. 5, 42; Dion. Hal. 1, 34; 2, 1; lustin. 43, 1, 5; Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 27; Fest. 430, 30 (L). See: Poucet 1967, 76-98.
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Here we are confronted with a first inconsistency in the imagery of the god. On the one hand, Saturn was regarded as autochthonous and as belonging to the first stratum of Latin settlers. Consequently, he was often regarded as the first king of Latium or even of Italy 15 . On the other hand, he is generally depicted as an immigrant. According to Hyginus apud Macrobius Sat. 1, 7, 21 ff., for instance, !anus was the first king of Latium and he received Saturn after his wanderings and settled him in his country 16 . According to Varro L.L. 5, 74 17 , he arrived, just as other gods, from the Sabine territory-a view, of course, that is more informative on later Saturnian ideology than on the actual roots of the god 18 . So Saturn unites the connotations of the arch-Roman and the prototypical foreigner 19 . This is only the first of a series of paradoxes that we shall gradually discover. The foreign nature of Saturn seems to be ritually reflected in the fact that his sacrifice was performed according to the ritus graecus, that is capite aperto: with uncovered head 20 . This custom is attested
15 Latium: Verg. Aen. 7, 203: Saturniagens; Sil. Ita!. 3, 11; Italy: EnniusAnn. 25: Saturnia terra; Varro L.L. 5, 42; Verg. Georg. 2, 173: Saturnia tellus; Aen. 8, 329; Justin. 43, 1, 5, ltaque ltalia regis nomine Saturnia appellata. On Italy as Saturnia terra see: Guittard 1980b, who thinks that the Saturnia terra "n'a pu se developper qu'apres !'assimilation de Saturne a Kronos et comme une consequence des theories euhemeristes" (183); Briquel 1984, index s.v. Saturn is ranged among the Laurentan kings: RML IV, 433 ff., with sources on his arrival in Italy. The high antiquity of Saturn and his ambiance is also indicated by the versus Saturnii, which are versus antiquissimi (Fest. 432 L). 16 On Janus and Saturn as prototypical kings: A. Brelich, I primi re Iatini, in: idem 1976, 57-103; Guittard 1976, 64 f. 17 Cf. Dion. Hal. 2, 50, 3; Augustin. C.D. 4, 23. 18 See on the historical value of the list of the 'Sabine gods' in Varro: E. C. Evans, The Cults of the Sabine Territory (PMAAR XI [1939]) 152 ff.; J. Collart, Varron, grammairien latin (Paris 1954) 189-92; Poucet 1967, 47-51; Guittard 1976, 54 ff. On the ideological implications of these Sabine connections as references to the 'third function' of rural affluence: Pouthier 1981, 39 f. As a signum for ancient Italic agrarian origin: Le Glay 1966, 454 ff.; Guittard 1976, 53 ff. 19 As far as I know, Brelich 1976 is the only one who has noticed and valued this paradox, to which we shall return. 20 Already Cato apud Prise. 8, p. 377 H ( = Malcovati p. 35 no. 77) says: Graeco ritujiebantur Saturnalia. Cf. Fest. 432, 1 (L): apud eam (sc. aram Saturni) supplicant apertis capitibus. Nam ltalici (. .... ) velant capita; ibid. 462, 29 (L); Paul. 106 (L); Macrob. Sat. 3, 6, 17. Serv. Aen. 3, 407, even contends that this was done exclusively in the case of Saturn: sacrijicantes diis omnibus caput velare consuetos (. .. ) excepto tan tum Saturno. On ritus graecus see: J. Gage, Apollon romain. Essai sur le culte d'Apollon et le developpement du 'ritus graecus' aRome des origines aAuguste (Paris 1955); Rohde 1936, 138 ff.; J. Linderski, The Augural Law, ANRWII, 16 (1986) 2219.
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for only a few other cults, the sacrifice for Hercules at the Ara Maxima being the least problematic2 1, since this cult is incontestably of Greek origin. However, in the case of Saturn and, for instance, that of Honos, to whom people used to sacrifice with bare heads, accordingto Plutarch QR 13, serious problems loom up, for neither of these gods had Greek roots. The desperation of modern scholarship is exemplarily illustrated by Latte 22 . He explains the capite aperto sacrifice for Honos as a human imitation of the god (who was represented with uncovered head), whereas ancient explanations of the same sacrifice for Saturn were based precisely on the opposition between the covered god and the uncovered worshippers 23 . The least we can do for the moment is to point out the problem: an essentially nonGreek, though definitely eccentric, god is worshipped in a rite which is usually qualified as ritu graeco 24 . In searching for a solution to this riddle, scholars have also referred to the later Hellenization of Saturn. For it is undoubtedly true that Saturn adopted Greek traits from his Greek pendant Kronos. The covered head is no less unusual for a Roman than for a Greek god: it must have been borrowed from the imagery of Kronos 25 . The sickle is another Kronian emblem 26 . The identity of the two gods was already fully acknowledged and exploited by Livius Andronicus2 7 .
2! See: Freier 1963, 109-13. On the iconography see: C. Reinsberg, Das Hochzeitsopfer eine Fiktion. Zur Ikonographie der Hochzeitssarkophage, JDAI 99 (1984) 291-317. 22 Latte 1960, 236: "Die Beziehung zu dem Graecus ritus versagt bei der Gestalt, fiir die wir kein griechisches Aquivalent kennen, ebenso wie bei Saturnus". On p. 256 n.4, he states that the uncovered head does not unequivocally prove Greek origin. Guittard 1976, 46 f., recognizes the problem and tries to solve it by emphasizing the strong relationship between Saturn and Hercules. Rohde 1936, 143, speaks of the: "sogenannte Graecus ritus im Saturnkult" and thinks that this ritual is as old as the cult of Saturn itself, possibly deriving from Etruria. Cf. also Brelich 1976, 86, to whose pertinent questions I shall return. 23 Serv. A en. 3, 40 7: ne numinis imitatio esse videretur; Macrob. Sat. 3, 6, 17: ut omnes aperto capite sacra faciant; hoc fit, ne quis in aede dei habitum eius imitetur; nam ipse ibi operto est capite. 24 This is another illustration of the great antiquity of the cult of Saturn in the view of those ancient historiographers who wished to identify the early Romans as Greeks: Dion. Hal. 1, 34, 4; 6, 1, 4; Plut. QR 11; Macrob. Sat. 1, 8, 2; 10, 22; Serv. Aen. 3, 407; Fest. 432 (L). See: Briquel 1984, 419 ff. 25 See for this tradition: Alfcildi 1979, 20 f.; Krause 1983, esp. 5. 26 Fest. 202, 17 (L); 423, 12 (L); Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 24; Plut. QR 42; Serv. Georg. 2, 406; Ovid. Fast. 1, 234. Cf. Krause 1983, 5. 27 Fr. 2 Morel: (lupiter) Saturnijilius; cf. fr. 15; Enn. Ann. 456 Vahl.
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According to a number of scholars, the Hellenization of Saturn took place in a rather abrupt way in the year 217 BC, when, among a series of piacular rites, "there was a sacrifice at the temple of Saturn and it was ordered that a lectisternium should be held and that a public meal should be organized (the cry 'Saturnalia' resounded through the city day and night) and that this would for always remain a festive day for the people" 28 . Livy's description of the measures of the year 217 BC provides a good deal of the well-known features of the Saturnalia of historical times. Many have accepted the conclusion drawn by Wissowa2 9 : "die Festfeier des alteinheimischen Gottes Saturn us erfiihrt eine vollige U mgestalltung nach griechischen Vorbilde" (the festival of the indigenous god Saturn undergoes a complete transformation after a Greek model). Its success does not alter the fact that this remark is a mere guess. It is at least equally probable that age-old Roman customs were now officially recorded and ritually fixed 30 , perhaps after having been enriched with Greek elements (like the lectisternium 31 for instance). This assumption would receive additional support if it were true that the cult of Saturn received particular attention during the second Punic war in order to provide a kind of counterpoise to the Punic Ba'al Hammon, who was identified with Saturn, by an act of evocatio, as R. Bloch 32 has suggested. In that case an emphasis on au28 Liv. 22, 1, 19: Postremo, Decembri iam mense, ad aedem Saturni Romae immolatum est, lectisterniumque imperatum-et eum tectum senatores straverunt-et convivium publicum, ac per urbem Saturnalia diem ac noctem clamata, populusque eum diem jestum habere ac servare in perpetuum iussus. 29 Wissowa 1912, 61. Cf. p.205: "Der Zeitpunkt der Umwandlung des latinischen Kultes in einen griechischen ist in diesem Faile bekannt: ( .... ) 217 ( .. )". 30 Thus convincingly: Nilsson 1921, col. 206. Cf. Latte 1960, 254/5: "Es ist nichts in den Riten, was nicht in dem Bauernkult entstanden sein konnte". Bomer 1961 III, 423: "Die These tiber den griechischen Ursprung der privaten Gastmiihler in 217 unhaltbar'', and ibid. 425: ''Wir diirfen getrost annehmen, class die Romer fur die Art, wie sie mit ihren Sklaven feierten, ihren eigenen Stil hatten und dafiir nicht auf griechische Importe angewiesen waren." Cf. Graf 1985b, 93. 3! However, Guittard 1976, 47 f. is right in pointing out that Greek influence must have been at work long before 217 BC. Cf. the important observation by Rohde 1936, 143: "Gatos Worte Graeco ritufiebantur Saturnalia klingen eher so, als ob sie von einem alten Brauche gesagt waren, nicht von einem zu seinem Lebzeiten eingefiihrten.'' 32 Bloch 1976, 35 f., followed by Guittard, ibid. 49. Long before him E. Manni, A proposito del culto di Satumo, Athenaeum 16 (1938) 223-32, had developed similar ideas. Cf. also V. Basanoff, Evocatio (Paris 1947) 63-6.
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thentic and ancient Roman ritual to attract the foreign god would be quite appropriate. Unfortunately we do not know the exact date of the only contemporary Greek author who mentioned the Saturnalia. Baton from Sinope probably lived in the second part of the third century BC and he tells us that the Roman Saturnalia were a completely Greek festival, the same festival that was called Peloria in Thessaly33 . If he wrote this before 217 BC, this would definitely prove that the Roman Saturnalia possessed features that reminded the author of Greek customs. But even if he wrote (shortly) after this year it would be curious that he did not refer to the recent 'Hellenization' of the festival in order to add force to his demonstration. As we have seen in the previous chapter, there is no unequivocal evidence on fettered statues of the Greek Kronos 34 . On the other hand, this is one of the most characteristic marks of Roman Saturn: the feet of the statue were 'chained' with woollen threads or fetters, which were released on the day of the Saturnalia35 . Another datum without a parallel in Greece is handed down by Pliny NH 15, 32, who tells us that the statue of Saturn was filled with oiJ3 6 . This custom has been compared with the shedding of oil on the Kronos stone at Delphi but this is not exactly identical and a convincing explanation of this curious practice has not yet been proposed. The inconsistencies discovered so far-a prototypical Roman god who is at the same time a foreigner; a god with one of the oldest sanctuaries in Rome and yet worshipped ritugraeco; a god who is in fetters
33 Apud Athen. 14, 639D-640A = FGrHist 268 F 5. G. Kaibel, in his Teubner edition (1890) p.412, argues that it was not Baton but Athenaeus himself who inserted this piece of information, but F. Jacoby has shown that it is probably based on authentic information: Cf. Briquel 1984, 421 f. 34 Cf. above p.105. I would recall, however, the information given by Pausanias 10, 24, 6 on the Kronos stone at Delphi: "every day they shed oil over it and during every festival they place threads of unworked wool on it." 35 Verrius FlaccusapudMacrob. Sat. 1, 8, 5; Stat. Silv. 1, 6, 4, compedeexsoluta; Arnob. 4, 24, numquis parricidii causa vinctum esse Satumum et ablui diebus statis vinculorum ponderibus et levari? Min. Fe!. 23, 5. 36 Existimaturque et ebori vindicando a carie utile esse: certe simulacrum Satumi Romae intus oleo repletum est. Pausan. 5, 11, 10, has something of the kind on the ivory statue of Zeus at Olympia. Krause 1983, 5, regards this as an exact parallel and accepts the cosmetic motive for this strange custom as given by Pliny. However, there is a difference: at Olympia the oil is poured over the statue; in Rome it is poured into the hollow statue. Cf. also Piccaluga 197 4, 312 f. and below p.189. On the libation of oil over sacred stones see Burkert 1979, 42.
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but is liberated for one day (after which he is chained again)-are matched by the paradoxes in his character as it appears from Roman literature. No god in the Roman pantheon can boast a more paradoxical character. Although his name cannot be connected with the stem of the verb "to sow", Saturn undoubtedly had connections with cereal activities, especially with the corn harvest. As we shall investigate his functions in more detail below, it will suffice here to point out the calendrical position of his festival between the two festivals of Ops and Consus in December. Consequently, later Roman myth made him the husband of Ops, the goddess who personified the wealth of the corn supply. In the imperial age Saturn was worshipped side by side with Ops under the name of Frugifer37 . Accordingly and significantly, he was generally lauded as the god and king who had introduced agriculture in Italy and thus had given the decisive impulse to the development of civilization. The locus classicus38 , V erg. A en. 8, 314 ff., describes how in the primeval era of Fauni and Nymphs man led a beastly life without laws, agriculture or civilization. Then came Saturn as an exile from the Olympus, dethroned and fugitive (320-325): "He gathered together the unruly race, scattered over mountain heights, and gave them laws, and chose that the land be called Latium, since in these borders he had found a safe hiding place. Under his reign were the golden ages men tell of: in such perfect peace he ruled the nations". (translation: H. Rushton Fairclouch, Loeb) So Saturn's sickle may be viewed as a sign of affluence, peace, order and stability. But it can also change into a bloody weapon in the hands of a fearful and even horrible god. As we shall have to return to the following issues in a different context, I shall now only succinctly mention some major aspects which betray the less agreeable sides of the god. In the first place, Saturn
37 At Lambaesis a temple was dedicated Satumo domino et Opi Reginae (GIL VIII, 2670); there is a dedication Frugifero Saturno aug(usto) sacr(um) (GIL VIII, 2666). Combinations with Nutrix in Wissowa 1912, 208 n.5. Cf. Le Glay 1966, index s. v. Frugifer. 38 Other sources on Saturn as culture hero: Fest. 202 (L); Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 21-32; Plut. QR 12 and 42. Cf. the surveys in: Wissowa, in: RML col. 433 f.; Gatz 1967, 125; Brelich 1976,92. On the development of the idea in Hellenistic times: A. Alfoldi, From the Aion Plutonius of the Ptolemies to the Saeculum Frugiferum of the Roman Emperors, in: Greece and the Eastern Mediterranean in Ancient History and Prehistory. Studies presented to F. Schachermeyr (Berlin-New York 1977) 1-30.
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was closely connected with a deity called Lua. Now, a goddess called Lua Mater presided over the destruction of the enemy weapons, which were burnt and thus rendered harmless 39 . Her name is therefore associated with the concept of lues, 'destruction'. Romans of the historical period seem to have identified Lua Mater and Lua Saturni-erroneously, as I hope to show-; hence Lua Saturni40 is sometimes saddled with equally negative, or at least ambivalent, traits. Serv. Aen. 3, 139, while commenting upon the phrase arboribusque satisque lues, says that some numina are liable to perform both good and evil deeds: ut (. .... ) sterilitatem tam Saturno, quam Luae 41 ; hanc enim sicut Saturnum orbandi potestatem habere (for instance sterility is attributed to both Saturn and Lua; for just as Saturn, the goddess Lua has the power of making people childless). Apparently, Lua could be both beneficent and malevolent, a fickleness she shared with Saturn. I shall pay attention to the nature of the relationship between these two gods in a later section. Saturn had connections with the underworld, as may appear from the position of his festival in December, a month which was apparently reserved for gods with infernal or chthonic functions: Consua~ lia, Opalia, Angeronalia 42 . The ban on the performance of such official acts as declaring war applied to both the Saturnalia (see below) and to the days marked by mundus patet according to Varro 43 .
Liv. 8, 1, 6; 45, 33, 2, quibus spolia hostium dicare iusfasque est. Varro L.L. 8, 36; Gell. 13, 23, 2. 41 Mss. Lunae. The conjecture Luae, proposed by Preller, Romische Mythologie II, 22 n.3, is absolutely convincing and has been generally accepted. The counterarguments put forward by H. J. Rose, Fire, Rust and War in Early Roman Cult, CR 36 (1922) 15 ff., followed by Dumezil1956, 100, fail to convince. A number of modern scholars deny the negative or disquieting aspects of Lua, since, in their opinion, she was supposed to be a benevolent goddess connected with fertility or agriculture: "Eigenschaft die das Keimen der Saaten befordert" (A. v. Domaszewski, Abhandlungen ZUT romischen Religion [1909] 109); "frisches Griin, spriessende Saat" (Radke 1965, 186). I shall return to this problem in more detail below pp.181-184. 42 The chthonic aspects have been particularly emphasized by Albrecht 1943, 36 ff. Cf. also Le Glay 1966, 460fT. According to Plut. QR 11, some range the god among the chthonic gods as belonging to the Nether World. VarroL.L. 5, 74, mentions him side by side with the chthonic V ediovis and in the cosmic system of Martian us Capella Saturn occupies the 14th region between the Manes and Vediovis: Guittard 1980a, 164 (who should, however, not adduce 'the human sacrifice' to Vediovis as an argument, since ritu humano in Gell. 5, 12, 12, has a different meaning). 43 Apud Macrobius, Sat. 1, 16, 16-8. Cf. Fest. 145, 28 (L). 39
40
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Of course, a chthonic nature does not necessarily carry negative or unpleas;mt connotations. However, Etruscan Satre, who is almost certainly related to Saturn, occupies a region in the dark and negative side of the liver of Piacenza, and so does Saturn in the related description by Martianus Capella44 • Satre is undoubtedly a frightening and dangerous god who hurls his lightning from his abode deep in the earth45. It was commonly believed that the planet Saturn exercised harmful influences, as is witnessed by Cicero and literature from the Augustan period46 and elaborated in later commentaries and astrological works47 . It is summarized by Servius Aen. 4, 92: Satumi stellam nocendi Jacultatem habere (Saturn's star has the capacity to do harm). The poetical use of his name, especially as a patronymic of lupiter or Iuno, is often explained as a means to evoke a threatening or cruel atmosphere: crudelitatem aptum (inclined to cruelty, Serv. Aen. 1, 23) 48 . The deities of the tertian fever are called his daughters 49 . These traits suffice as references to a gloomy and precarious atmosphere in violent contrast to the image of peace, well-being and order that we found before. The frightful side of the god's nature would be even more evident if it could be proven that Saturn originally, or at least in an early phase, was the god of the gladiatorial munera, as many scholars have contended. As we shall return to this problem as well, it may suffice for the moment to point out that we have no single testimony from republican times that could unequivocally bear out a connection of Saturn with gladiatorial shows. 44 C. Thulin, Die Cotter des Martianus Capella (RVV 1907) 29; Van der Meer 1987, 126-8. 45 Plin. NH 138, 52. Cf. Pfiffig 1975, 312 f., although Van der Meer 1987 doubts the value of this testimony. 46 Cic. De div. 1, 85; Prop. 4, 1, 84: et grave Satumi sidus in omne caput; Hor. C. 2, 17,23: impioSatumo;Ov. lb. 215f.; Luc. 1, 652;Aetna 243;Juv. 6, 569f.; Nicarchus AP 2, 114, 3 f. He causes fever: Ptolem. tetr. 2, 83; cat. cod. astr. 7, 215, 28; Firm. Mat. Math. 3, 2, 8; 3, 2, 26; 4, 19, 8. Cf. A. Le Boeuffle, Astronomie, astralogie. Lexique latin (Paris 1987) 234. 47 Into the medieval and early modern period. See: F. Boll, C. Bezold, W. Gundel, Stemglaube und Sterndeutung. Die Geschichte und das Wesen der Astrologie (Darmstadt 19745) index s.v. Saturn. On the 'melancholic' interpretation of Saturn: R. Klibanski, E. Panofsky and F. Saxl, Saturn and Melancholy. Studies in the History of Natural Philosophy, Religion and Art (London 1964). 48 Cf. idem ad Aen. 4, 371: Satumium (. ... ) hoc est, nacentem, and 372: ubicumque injestos vult ostendere vel Iunonem vel Iovern, Satumios appellat. 49 Theod. Prise. Phys. 4, 3 p. 250 Rose.
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The notion of Saturn as a blood-thirsty god to whom gladiators were sacrificed as human victims, which is indeed alluded to or even explicitly mentioned in sources from the third century AD onwards, has been explained from the close vicinity of the Saturnalia and the official munera in December. However, as we shall see, Piganiol has at least succeeded in irrefutably demonstrating that the production of gladiatorial munera belonged to the tasks of the quaestors and was paid with funds from the aerarium Saturni. And it is also evident that the bloody and cruel atmosphere apparently associated with Saturn provoked phantasies of primeval human sacrifices in the cult of Saturn. Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 31: cumque diu humanis capitibus Ditem et virorum victimis Saturnum placare se crederent (during a long period people had the idea that they could placate Dis Pater with human heads and Saturn with human sacrifices). Altogether we notice a striking ambiguity in the nature and atmosphere of the myth and ritual of Saturn: just as in the case of Kronos, there are joyful and utopian aspects of careless well-being side by side with disquieting elements of threat and danger.
2. Saturnalia The 17th of December, the founding day of the temple, was also the day of Saturn's festival, the Saturnalia50 . Its increasing popularity entailed a gradual extension of the festival, eventually over more than a week, although the additional days never acquired official status. Already in the first century BC the Atellane poets Novius and Mummius spoke of septem Saturnalia 51 . The festival is mentioned in the calendar ofNuma and consequently belongs to the genuinely ancient Roman celebrations.
50 Besides the literature mentioned above n.l, see on this festival: V. d'Agostino, Sugli antichi Saturnali, RSG 17 (1969) 180-7, with a useful survey of the evidence in literary texts from Catullus to Macrobius; M. Grondova, La religione e la superstizione nella Gena Trimalchionis (Bruxelles 1980) 89-94, an analysis of the Saturnalia model in the Gena. Cf. on related literary genres: Von Premerstein 1904, esp. 342 ff. On the ritual of reversal Kenner 1970, 88-92. 51 Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 3. The characteristic suspension of the administration of justice was similarly extended over several days: Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 4 and 23.
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The festival opened with a public meal in front of the temple of Saturn52, after which the cry 'io Saturnalia' was raised 53 , the starting shot for the private merry-making. It was an occasion for all Romans, citizens and slaves, to enjoy a holiday: schools were closed54, physical exercises were suspended 55 as was the course of justice since courts did not convene56 : in other words, there was a iustitium 57 . On this day it was forbidden to declare war 58 . Roman citizens put off their togas 59 and covered their-normally bareheads with the pilleus60 , the felt cap of the freedmen. There were exuberant gorgings 61 and even more excessive drinking bouts. Sober people were conspicuous exceptions62 • Not even the strict and frugal Cato would deny his slaves an extra ration of wine 63 . Anarchy 52 Liv. 22, 1, 19 (for the text see above n.28); Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 18. Liv. 5, 13, 6, gives a number ofSaturnalian features as characteristics of the first lectisternium of 399 BC: private meals to which even enemies were invited; the suspension of iurgia and litia; the liberation of chained people. Since Dion. Hal. 12, 9, provides the same information, the source must be Piso, who probably has mixed up various elements known to him from various festivals and ceremonies: Latte 1960, 242, n.2; Ogilvie ad Liv. Zoe. cit. 53 Liv. 22, 1, 19; Macro b. Sat. 1, 10, 18; Dion. Hal. 6, 1, 4; Petron. 58, 2; Mart. 11, 2, 5; Dio Cass. 60, 19, 3. 54 Plin. Ep. 8, 7, 1; Mart. 5, 84; 12, 81. Freedom from work for both slaves and school-children is a fixed combination in Hellenistic and Roman decrees concerning festivals in general: L. Robert, BCH 108 (1984) 490 n.lO. Cf. Dunand 1978, 201-18. 55 Lucian Cron. 13. 56 Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 4 and 23. Cf. 1, 10, 1: poenas a nocente exigere piaculare est. 5 7 See on the concept of iitstitium: Versnel 1980, 605 ff. Significantly, Varro in Macrob. Sat. 1, 16, 16, says that the op.ly other occasions when official political actions were suspended were the days marked by mundus patet. We shall come back to this relationship below p.175. 58 Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 1. 59 Mart. 6, 24; 14, 1; Sen. Ep. 18 with the commentary ofV. d'Agostino, L. Anneo Seneca. Pagine di vitae di cultura romana (Torino 19686 ) 12-4. That the putting off of the toga and the concomitant adoption of the synthesis are indeed demonstrative, in fact ritual, acts appears from reports that the wearing of the synthesis in everyday life was strongly disapproved of (Suet. Nero 51) and even punished (Lucian Nigrin. 14). 60 Mart. 14, 1; 11, 6, 4: pilleata Roma; Sen. Ep. 18. Cf. Grondova o.c. (above n.50) 90 n.275, who compares the reaction after the death of Nero: Sueton. Nero 57, 1, tantumque gaudium publice praebuit ut plebs pilleata tota urbe discurreret. 61 Cato, De agr. 57; Gell. 2, 24, 3; SHA Alex. Sev. 37, 6; Mart. 14, 70, 1. Lex Fannia Satumalibus in singulos dies centenos aeris insumi concessit. In Petron. Gena Trim. 69, 9, Encolpius says at the sight of a rich dish: vidi Romae Satumalibus eius modi cenarum effigiem. · 62 Hor. Sat. 2, 3, 5; Mart. 14, 1, 9: madidi dies; Lucian. Cron. 13. 63 Cato, Deagr. 57.
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was pushed so far as to allow gambling and dice-playing, which was prohibited in everyday life64 . The stakes were coins and nuts 65 . The representation of the Saturnalia in the calendar of Philocalus66 shows a man in a fur coat and with a torch, standing beside a table on which dice are displayed. The legend runs: nunc tibi cum domino ludere, verna, licet (now, slave, you have permission to play dice with your master). A bunch of poultry symbolizes the festive meal. The intellectual elite used to spend the holiday in learned improvisations and table talk, as exemplified in Macrobius' Saturnalia. Satire and derision were given free rein as Julian's Symposion demonstrates. In less sophisticated circles the playful mood expressed itself in the propounding and solving of riddles 67 • The temporary experience of affluence was also reflected in the exchange of presents. Frequently referred to by Martial, they often bore satirical or enigmatic inscriptions68 . The title of Martial's 14th book, Apophoreta, refers to the custom of taking presents home 69 • Their contents could hide facetious surprises 70 . The principle of mutuality confronted the less opulent party with serious financial problems 71 • Therefore it was allowed to give a substitute present instead, in the form of candles 72 or figurines made of wax or clay, the sigillaria 73 . There was even a special market 74 for these specifically 64 Suet. Aug. 71; Mart. 4, 14, 7; 5, 84; 11, 6,; 14, 1; Lucian Sat. 2. On prohibition of gambling see: M. Kurylowicz, Das Gliicksspiel im romischen Recht, ZSSR 102 (1985) 184-219; Baltrusch 1988, 103 f. 65 Mart. 5, 84; 7, 91, 2; 13, 1, 7; 14, 1, 12. 66 H. Stern, Le calendrier de 354. Etude sur son texte et sur ses illustrations (Paris 1953). On this calendar see now: M. R. Salzman, On Roman Time. The CodexCalendar of 354 and the Rhythms of Urban Life in Late Antiquity (Berkeley 1990). 67 AP 286 Riese provides a collection of these Saturnalian riddles. 68 Suet. Aug. 75: titulis obscuris et ambiguis. 69 Suet. Vesp. 19, but they were sometimes dispatched, as very often in Martial. See V. d'Agostino o.c. (above n.50) 183 f. 70 Catull. 14; Suet. Aug. 75. They could consist of bantering verses. Ovid Trist. 2, 491 f. talia (carmina) luduntur fumoso mense decembri, quae damno nulli composuisse juit. 71 See Lucian Kronossolon, who is fully aware of the problem. The principle of mutuality is also present in the strenarum commercium (Sueton. Tib. 34, 2) of the 1st of january. See: D. Baudy 1987, who provides an interesting discussion of the social meaning of this lopsided exchange of gifts. 72 Varro, L.L. 5, 64: cerei superioribus mittuntur; Paul. ex Fest. 47, 27 (L); AP6, 249; Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 32; 1, 11, 49. In Sat. 1, 7, 33, Macrobius even mentions a law proposed by a tribune of the plebs non nisi cerei ditioribus missitarentur. Similar substitutions of the strena: D. Baudy 1987, 2. 73 Macrob. Sat. 1, 11, 49; Sen. Ep. 12, 3. 74 Macrob. ibid ..
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Saturnalian objects and slaves and poor clients would receive an allowance (the sigillaricium) 75 from their masters or patrons to enable them to procure presents-an ideal economic circle. The most remarkable and characteristic trait of the Saturnalia was the temporary suspension of the social distinctions between master and servant. Saturnalibus to ta servis licentia permittitur (during the Saturnalia every kind of licence is permitted to the slaves), as Macrobius Sat. 1, 7, 26, summarizes the prevailing liberty. One of the extraordinary aspects of the communal meals was that masters and slaves dined together 76 or that slaves even took precedence over77 or were served by their masters 78 • Slaves and servants were free to join their lords in gambling79 and to tell them the truth or criticise their conduct80 • Of course, a few details may be the products oflater additions or transformations, but the Accius fragment, for instance, unequivocally proves that freedom of the slaves and equality with their lords belonged to the most ancient features of the festival. There is one other interesting but controversial piece of evidence: Seneca, Ep. Luc. 5, 6 ( 4 7) 14, seems to say that during the Saturnalia slaves held the reins of government in the household, performed official functions in imitation of public offices and administered justice 75 Macrob. Sat. 1, 10, 24; 1, 11, 49; Suet. Claud. 5; SHA Hadrian. 17, 3; Carac. 1, 8; Aurelian. 50, 3. 76 Macrob. Sat. 1, 11, 1: quod servi cum dominis vescerentur, and this, as Iustin. 43, 1, 4, says: exaequato omnium iure. Even at the imperial court: SHA Verus 7, 5. 77 Macrob. Sat 1, 24, 23, religiosae domus prius famulos instructis tamquam ad usum domini do.pibus honorant et ita demum patribus familias mensae apparatus novatur. 78 This is already reported by Accius (Ann. fr. 3M. Bae; Fr. Poet. Lat. Morel p. 34) quoted above p.1 03, but it cannot be ascertained whether the waiting on by the master actually refers to Roman custom. See for instance Bomer 1961 III, 174. Further: Iustin. 43, 1, 4; Athen. 14, 639B: children of Roman citizens wait upon their slaves. Auson. Defer. 15,jestaque servorum cumfamulantur eri. Luc. Cron. 18; Cass. Dio 60, 19: "at the Saturnalia slaves adopt the roles of their masters". These testimonies in my view exclude the explanation advanced by D. Baudy 1986, 223 n.80, that this is not an instance of role reversal but of the hierarchic act of the distribution of food by the master. Although this function is, of course, fundamental, rites should be assessed in their context. In this case it is clearly the complex of status reversal, as all other indications prove. 79 Cf. the text quoted above p.148 from the calendar ofPhilocalus ( = AL 395, 48). 80 In Hor. Sat. 2, 7, the slave Davus tells his master the truth. This whole satire is based on the principle of the suspension and reversal of social distinctions: the master becomes slave (of his passions) whereas the slave has a free mind-a clear allusion to the libertas decembris.
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in the family, including their masters: instituerunt diemfestum, non quo solo cum servis domini vescerentur, sed quo utique; honores illis in domo gerere, ius dicere permiserunt et domum pusillam rem publicam esse iudicaverunt. However, there is room for disagreement on the constitution of the text and its interpretation, so it may be advisable to approach it with due reserve 81 . After this rapid survey of the evidence we now tum to the major questions regarding its meaning and its implications for the cult and rite of Saturn.
2.
SATURNIAN MYTH AND RITUAL:
THE CARNIVALESQUE SIGNS OF THE REVERSED ORDER
1. The eccentric god When we survey the evidence given above and compare Kronian myth and ritual, the prevalence of the ritual aspects is striking. Of course, in dealing with a Roman god this should not surprise us too much. As for the mythical data, it is even less feasible to isolate them from Greek models than it is in the case of presumed ritual derivation. This is particularly true for the notion of the Saturnia regna, the celebrated theme of Augustan poetry which was for the first time emphatically exploited by Vergi182 • The imagery of a Utopian reign 81 Many scholars paraphrase the passage as follows: "Den Sclaven, die in diesen Tagen von ihren Herren bewirtet wurden, war es erlaubt, Magistrate und Richter nach zu affen" (Von Premerstein); "Nachricht bei Seneca, nach der man im Hause nicht nur mit den Sklaven zusammen speiste, sondern ihnen auch die Befehlsgewalt und die Rechtsprechung iibertrug: das Haus wurde in eine Art von Miniatl~~staat verwandelt" (Weinstock); "von selbst folgte die Konsequenz, auch andere Amter nachzuaffen, ( ..... ): Lucian. Sat. 2; besonders Seneca Ep. 47, 14" (Nilsson); "jegliche Ehre wurde ihnen im Hause erwiesen, das Amt, das sonst im Haus nur der Pater familias und im Staate nur der hohe Beamte ausiiben durfte, namlich das der Rechtsprechung, konnte scherzhaft im privaten Kreis von ihnen demonstriert werden" (Kenner). Apparently these authors do not read a stop between utique and honores. When I at first tended to accept this interpretation, my colleagues 0. Schrier and R. Nauta, warned me that it was based on a mistaken text constitution. They put forward several arguments among which the most important was that non quo solo must be opposed to sed quo utique and cannot be identical to non solum quo. Since utique means 'at any rate', 'certainly', the first part of the sentence means: "a festive day, with the I)urpose that they would dine together, not exclusively on that day but at any mte on that day." Cf. Nauta 1987, 87 n.57. Graf reminds me of Varro, R. R. 1, 17, where slaves are ranged in a hierarchical structure. Cf. also Plin. Ep. 8, 16, 2, servis respublica quaedam et quasi civitas domus est. 82 Loci classici: Verg. Eel. 6,41; Georg. 2, 173; 2, 538; Aen. 7, 49; 7, 203; 8, 319.
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of bliss and peace that prevailed in a hoary past and which is now bound to return, immediately recalls the idea of the golden race of Kronos. However, this should not make us close our eyes to the essential differences between Greek and Roman imagery. One distinction lies in the way this Saturnian image was represented83 . The Greeks expressed their 'wishing' images in terms of 'the golden race' and of 'Kronian life', thus understanding the myth primarily from a theological or anthropological point of view. The Romans, on the other hand, viewed the Saturnia regna primarily as Saturnia saecula, i.e. as a historical period: Saturn, though a god, was also a (pseudo-)historical king. This is only one of numerous instances in which Rome tended to express myth principally in historical terms 84 . Another important distinction is closely bound up with the first one. Whereas in the case ofKronos affluence was basically seen as an automatic, spontaneous and effortless gift in a genuinely Utopian fashion, in the Roman view Saturn's greatest contribution to human well-being was his introduction of agrarian, above all cereal, culture and, consequently, of civilized life. Later on we shall pursue the development of this representation towards the overt Utopian images of Augustan literature. In the meantime it will be useful to keep in mind this typically Roman conception of the Saturnian contribution when we shall undertake to explain the Roman origins of the Saturnian complex in the next section. As we have seen, the Roman myth of Saturn combines the conThe return of the Satumian realm: Eel. 4; Aen. 1, 291 ff.; 6, 791 ff. Discussion of the development of the idea: Gatz 1967, 207; A. AlfOldi, in a series of publications under the title Redeunt Saturnia regna, the last of which appeared in Chiron 9 (1979) 553-606, where on p.553 a survey of the earlier articles. See especially his Der neue Weltherrscher der vierten Ekloge Vergils, Hermes 65 (1930) 369-84 = G. Binder (ed.), Saeculum Augustum II (Darmstadt 1988) 197-215. Cf. the discussion below pp.191-205. 83 This was observed by Gatz 1967, 204 ff.: "In Rom konnte der Mythos nur nach politischer und, in antikem Sinn, historischer Aufladung tragfahig werden, d.h. er musste 'saecula-risiert' werden." Cf. the discussion by H. C. Baldry, Who invented the Golden Age?, CQ NS 2 ( 1952) 83-92. 84 "Alles das, was man iiber das Leben im Mythos der archaischen Kulturphasen sagen kann, mit der vollen Priisenz und Giiltigkeit des vorzeitlichen Geschehens, gilt fiir das romische Verhiiltnis zur Geschichte, es ist ein Leben in der Geschichte. Die archetypischen Situationen des Mythos, an denen der Grieche sich, sein Verhalten, orientieren konnte, sind fiir den Romer Situationen der eigenen Geschichte, die mores maiorum iibemehmen die Rolle mythischer exempla": B. Gladigow, Macht und Religion, in: Spielarte der Macht. Humanistische Bildung 1 (1977) 16-a very felicitous phrasing of a well-known fact.
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trasting themes of the despised fugitive foreigner 85 and the idea of the primeval good king, bringer of culture to Italy. In addition it should be noted that just as in the case of Kronos, the Saturnian reign was limited in time. Not only did Saturn suddenly arrive, he also unexpectedly disappeared: subito non comparuisset (Macrob. Sat. 1, 7, 24 ). In this respect he closely resembles other founding heroes of Rome such as Aeneas, Latinus, Romulus 86 , a tertium comparationis which has been attractively explained by Brelich87 as one of the standard characteristics of the universal culture bringer, who after having prepared the conditions for human social life, retires and becomes a deus otiosus or continues his reign in a mythical abode. The Roman myth expresses this by telling that Iupiter expelled Saturn from the Capitolinus. Saturn was so solidly associated with the notion of concealment that the name of his own country Latium could be derived a latente deo (the hidden god)88 . Apparently it is not only in a historical, but also in a mythical sense that Saturn was a "divinite dechue". The cultic shadiness of Greek Kronos is parallelled in Rome by the fact that Saturn had only one annual sacrifice, which, moreover, did not display a single normal feature. Undoubtedly, however, Saturn had in many respects more 'reality' than his Greek pendant: his mighty temple in Rome, the vital economic function of his aerarium. Saturn, who had once introduced cereal wealth, continued to represent its affluence and accordingly boasted the lasting respect of the Roman people. Just as in the case of Kronos, the disturbing ambiguities in the god's cultic and mythical existence have provoked the usual escapist mechanisms among modern scholars. On the one hand, for instance, the negative and disquieting aspects were largely ignored or denied, a denial which admittedly owes some justification to 85 According to Gatz 1967, 125, the motifs of flight and exile are not attested before the Augustan period in Roman literature. This may be true but it should be recalled that the story of Saturn's banishment by Juppiter already occurred in Ennius' adaptation of Euhemeros' Sacred History (apud Lact. D.!. 1, 14, 1 = E. H. Warmington, Remains of Old Latin I, 418 ff.). Did every reader (want to) realize that this Saturn actually was not Saturn but Kronos? It was particularly Ovid's Fasti 5, 191 ff.; 235 ff. that exercised such an influence that it was a matter of course for Iuven. Sat. 13, 39, to speak of a Satumusfugiens. See on this development: Johnston 1977. 86 This was observed by Preller, Romische Mythologie III, 95 f. 87 Brelich 1976, 94 f. 88 Verg.Aen. 8, 322 f.; Ovid Fast. 1, 238; Herodian 1, 16; Min. Felix, Oct. 21, 6.
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the less unequivocal evidence. On the other hand, it was also contended that the nice ancient Roman agrarian god derived his more doubtful qualities from abroad: just as Kronos had been denatured by the Hittite Kumarbi, so Etruscan Satre had infected the gentle chthonic agrarian god with the cruel excesses of his Etruscan nature: human sacrifice, gladiatorial blood and the negative connotations of his lightning. Instead of circumstantially contesting such suppositions, one pertinent question suffices: why Saturn? Roman religion simply bristles with chthonic deities more (or at least equally) appropriate to having negative qualities grafted upon them. For instance, Vediovis, Dispater, or Angerona would have been excellent candidates. At all events the alleged derivation of negative elements is most unlikely if the god in question did not possess the proper predisposition. In other words: it is methodically preferable to explore whether the ambiguous nature of the god cannot be explained by his authentic nature and function. In my opinion this can be done for Saturn as we have done it for Kronos. However, there is one fortunate difference, namely that in this case we shall be able to trace the god's most prominent original functions in the agricultural year, a function which, as I hope to show, can explain both his own intrinsic ambivalence and the specific ambivalent nature of his festival, to which we shall now turn.
2. The cult On the 17th of December things happened which did not occur in this combination in any other Roman festival. Saturnus really is different. A chained god was freed from his bonds, a covered god was worshipped capite aperto. The chains may be authentically Roman, the veiled head is almost certainly a Greek heritage. The following observations are intended to contribute to the solution of the problems implied in these two data. We have already made some comments on the meaning of the mythical fettering of Kronos. Let us now add a few words on the meaning of ritual chains of divine statues in general. Fettered statues are a common phenomenon, both in and outside the Mediterranean world89 . Two explanations
89 See the literature above p.105 n.45 and p.114 n.85. And add: Graf 1985b, 81 ff. On the specific ritual with the lugos: D. Baudy 1989, with further literature.
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are usually advanced. One is that by binding the god people try to keep their divine protector and benefactor for themselves. The god is thus prevented from leaving his sanctuary and city90 . The other supposed motive is exactly the reverse: viz. to prevent a dangerous god or demon from exercising his harmful influences91 . Although these explanations undoubtedly hold good for some instances, they obviously do not cover the total range of the phenomena. As we have seen, Meuli distinguished a third category next to benevolent and malevolent gods, namely the gods of an ambivalent type 92 • They are freed in-and as the symbolization of-periods of exception. Kronos' chains-or sleep-were the symbolic expression of his being 'out of action'. His liberation temporarily revived his activity and restored his reign. This means that his chains are more or less a function of his liberation: in order to be freed he must first have been in chains. Or, to quote a variant expression from an agricultural context: nemo condit nisi ut promat (nobody stores [the products of the farm] except to bring them forth later, V arro, R. R. 1, 62). Another example is the way modern scholarship views (some of) the gods that were formerly called 'dying and rising gods'. As we have seen, according to recent theories Adonis was not 'reborn'. At least, this is no longer regarded as the essential element of the ritual. The fact that he had to return to some form of existence was merely necessary for creating a new opportunity to die again93 . In other words: the abnormal rite of exception-in this case the liberation of Saturn-can only exist thanks to the existence of the norm to which the rite is an exception. Once we have learned to interpret Saturnus' liberation as a signal of the period of exception-an interpretation which will receive decisive support from our assessment of the nature of the Saturnalia in the next section-, a solution presents itselffor a problem which has 90 So already in antiquity: Polemon fr. 90 FHG 3, 146; Ar. fr. 194; Plato, Men. 970; Diod. 17, 41, 8; Curt. Ruf. 4, 13, 22; Plut. Alex. 24, 6f. 678C. Cf. Graf 1985b, 81. 91 Also noted in antiquity: Pausan. 9, 38, 5, on the malicious hero Actaion. Cf. L. Robert, Documents d 'Asie Mineure meridionale (Paris 1966) 91-9, on oracles with instructions to bind the obnoxious god Ares. See now: Chr. A. Faraone, Talismans and TroJan Horses: Guardian Statues in Ancient Greek Myth and Ritual (New York-Oxford 1992) 74-93. 92 Cf. also Graf 1985b, 81 ff. Piccaluga 1977, 48 f. argues that the liberation of Saturn temporarily re-establishes the mythical reign of Saturn in historical reality. 93 See: C. Grottanelli, Da Myrrha alia Mirra: Adonis e il profumo dei re siriani (p. 36), and U. Bianchi, Adonis: Attualita di una interpretazione religionsgeschichtlich (p.73-81), both in: Adonis 1984, and above p.44 for the recent discussion.
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so far resisted interpretation: the question of the capite aperto sacrifice. Above we noticed the problem: why did Romans follow a so-called Greek rite in a sacrifice to a non-Greek god? Curiously enough, the problem was already seen in antiquity, since it was only in this case (contrary to the case of the same rites in the cults of Honos and Hercules) that ancient authors searched for an explanation. As we saw, the most adventurous modern suggestion was that, since Saturn was not Greek, the rite, though capite aperto, did not refer to ritus Graecus. Even Brelich, the only one to my knowledge who has neatly formulated the crux, did not risk going further than the ''meagre but perhaps not totally void'' suggestion, as he calls it, that perhaps in the cult of Saturn the order of cultic action itself was reversed, just as other elements were94 . I believe that with this casual and tentative suggestion he has hit the mark and that it can be considerably substantiated by the total context of the Saturnalia festival as well as by a piece of evidence that has been neglected so far. Among the many ways of visualising a reversal, none is so obvious, unequivocal and popular as the reversal in attire. The most easy and effective way to turn reality upside down is to change your clothes for the garment of the opposite sex or of social antipodes, or for distinguishing marks of animals or gods. Circumstantial information has been presented on these forms of disguise and their function in the first chapter of this book95 . By thus inverting normality the new situation is marked as exceptional and abnormal. It is noteworthy that among the signs that mark Greek sacrifices as exceptional or extraordinary-such as the absence of wine or the presence of milk-one is that the sacrificers do not wear the wreaths that are normally one of the most characteristic signs of sacrificial ceremonies96 . This provides a perfect parallel for the reversal of the 9 4 Brelich 1976, 86 f.: "ci dobbiamo accontentare della magra, rna forse non del tuto vuota constatazione, che nel culto di Saturnus si rovescia anche l'ordine del rito sacrificiale ... ".He is followed by Briquel1981, 148: "un processus d'inversion". 95 On clothes as an important index of social position in antiquity and the implications of reversal, recently: Bremmer 1987b, 78 f., who rightly points out that we nowhere read of masters assuming their slaves' clothes on the Saturnalia. So here the aspect of 'harmony', as discussed in the preceding chapter, prevails in the common wearing of the pilleus. In other Saturnalian customs, however, we notice aspects of 'conflict'. As usual, both opposites go together in these feasts of fools. 96 On signals of abnormality in the sacrificial atmosphere: Graf 1980; on the absence of wreaths: Graf 1985b, 27 f.
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Saturnian sacrifice. During the festival everything is out of order, above all clothing regulations. Moreover, Saturn himself is the marker of abnormality par excellence. His veiled head-irrespective whether this is an originally Roman element or a Greek heritagestamps him as 'different' and exceptional. Another way of expressing a reversal of ordinary life is by imitating odd customs of foreign nations. Romans could and did give expression to abnormality by allusions to 'the Greek way of life'. In the (Roman) jabula togata it was not allowed to stage slaves that outwitted their masters, whereas this was accepted in the jabula palliata 97 , the pallium conveniently evoking a Greek atmosphere. In Greece, as any decent Roman knew, odd things happened that were quite incompatible with Roman customs. Graeculi just had a habit of mixing up the normal order. Viewed in this light, it is very well possible and in my view becomes very likely that sacrificing ritu Graeco was just another reference to the eccentric nature of the total ritual. This supposition is supported by a tiny piece of evidence on Saturn himself which has remained unnoticed so far. Apart from the covering of his head there is another trait that sets him apart. The ivory98 statue in his temple was clothed with a purple-coloured cloak, as Tertullian, Testim. anim. 2, 137, 12, testifies. His exact words are: pallio Saturni coccinato. It is true that in the course of time pallium has become the term for any kind of garment99 • In this case, however, a positively unRoman pallium is meant-the extrinsecus habitus sharply censured by the same Tertullian, De pallio 4, 9: Galatia· ruboris superiectio (a wrap ofGalatian red). Now, the pallium never quite lost the negative connotations of its Greek or, more generally, foreign flavour. It characterized (Greek) philosophers, especially the Cynics and other dubious specimens, and prostitutes; in short, those marginals who refused to subject themselves to the norms and codes of civilized society 100 . A fortiori a purple pallium was the very opposite of what could be regarded as normal Roman custom. 97 Donat. in Ter. Eun. 57: concessum est in palliata poetis comicis servos dominis sapientioresfingere, quod idem in togata non jere licet. Cf. Plaut. Menaechm. Pro!. 7-9: atque hoc poetaefaciunt in comoediis: omnis res gestas esse A then is autumnant, quo illud vobis graecum videatur magis. On this alienating effect and the Saturnalian elements in Roman comedy: Segal 1970. 98 If that is what Plin. NH 15, 32, means. 99 G. Leroux in: Diet. Ant. IV, 285-93. too Whereas the stola for instance developed into a genuine status-marker. In the third century AD a matrona stolata or femina stolata indicated a woman belonging to the provincial, mostly equestrian, aristocracy: B. Holtheide, ZPE 38 ( 1980) 127-34.
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So here we have another feature which, together with the elements collected above, stamps Saturn as the god of the reversed world. His function-at least in historical times-was to embody references to an alternative world which, in periods of exception, interrupted the steady course of normal life. The god of this period was worshipped with reversed ('Greek') rituals. The god was different and so was the behaviour of his followers during these liminal periods 101 . We shall now reconsider their actions from the perspective of 'Saturnalian' ideology.
3. Licence The god was not the only one to wear uncommon clothes or to break his chains. The Saturnalian revellers had little to learn from him, as we saw. The evidence collected above of course immediately calls to mind comparable modern festivals like Carnival, Christmas or Santa Claus. The carnivalesque nature manifests itself in egalitarian aspects such as the communal consumption of large quantities of food and drink, the suspension of social distinctions and in general an atmosphere of elation. On the other hand, there are also elements of 'conflictive' demonstrations: a variety of role-reversals in which the master serves the slave and may be criticized and rebuked. The similarities with Christmas or New Year festivals are evident in the exchange of presents and the concomitant atmosphere of mockery, satire and surprise. Similarly, the candles form a trait d'union. The most conspicuous signs of the Saturnalian anomie were embodied in the reversal of normal clothing customs. A Roman who puts off his 101 The above interpretation of various aspects of myth and ritual as having reference to the 'exceptional' nature of Saturn seems to be strongly supported by remarkable parallels in the myth and ritual of Greek Ares, especially a regulation at Tegea, as they are convincingly explained by Graf 1984, esp. 252. First of all, legend makes him come from Thrace, which historically is not true. The legend, rather, points out his essential foreignness, as do the derivations ofDionysos from Lydia or Thrace. Homer tells us that the giants Otos and Ephialtes locked him up in a barrel, from where Hermes freed him again in the thirteenth month. More than one scholar recognized a period oflicence behind this Homeric myth. M. Riemschneider gives a comparative study: AAntHung 8 (1960) 4-34; cf. Burkert 1985, 169. At Tegea there existed a stele representing Ares Gunaikothoinas, 'the feaster of women' or 'the one whom the women feast'. Again Graf convincingly interprets this epiclesis (together with the aetiological explanations) as a signal of licence: the women feast at the agora (men's place par excellence), honouring the very male god whom they are usually to shun. All this closely resembles the elements of Saturnian myth and ritual as analysed and explained above.
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toga and adopts a synthesis does not become a Greek, but he certainly renounces the identity of the Roman citizen. If the total population of Rome wears the pilleus, a complicated situation emerges: by becoming 'freedmen' the slaves' status is enhanced, while the citizens' status is devalued. Increase and decrease lead to equality in a common freedom: the libertas decembris. The variegated symbolism ofliberation was by no means restricted to the Saturnalia. Its application in different contexts may help to clarify the implications of their Saturnalian meaning. The pilleus was frequently applied as the symbol of freedom in political propaganda102. For instance, the coins issued by Brutus bore a picture of this cap offreedom, and as we saw above "the death of Nero produced such joy that the plebs ran about through the whole city, their heads covered with the pilleus". Nor was role-reversal or status-reversal restricted to the Saturnalia. The Compitalia, too, were marked as a holiday for slaves. The Matronalia of the 1st of March were a New Year festival during which the matrons ''served dinner for their slaves as did the masters at the Saturnalia" 103 . It was perhaps on that same New Year day that another role-reversal took place: the so-called Saliae virgines performed a sacrifice in the Regia together with the pontifices and wore the paludamentum and the apex of the Salii104. 102
On the pilleus see: R. Kreis-von Schaewen, RE 20, 1329; Meuli 1975 I, 268
ff.; D. Briquel, Tarente, Locres, les Scythes, Thera, Rome: precedents antiques
au theme de !'amant de Lady Chatterley?, MEFRA 86 (1974) 673-705, esp. 678-82, discusses various forms of impositio pillei as a symbol of liberation. 103 Macrob. Sat. 1, 12, 7, SIITVis cenas adponebant matronae, ut domini Saturnalibus. Particularly interesting is the report by Asconius p. 7 (Clark) that during the Compitalia the magistn" vicorum, who were freedmen, were allowed to wear the toga praetexta: solebant autem magistri collegiorum ludos facere, sicut magistri vicorum faciebant compitalicios praetextati. 104 Fest. 439 (L) Salias Virgines Cincius ait esse conducticias, quae ad Salios adhibebantur, cum apicibus paludatas; quas Aelius Stilo scribsit sacrijicium facere in regia cum pontijicibus paludatas cum apicibus in modum Saliorum. The traditional explanation proposed by L. Deubner, Zur romischen Religionsgeschichte, RM 36-7 (1921-2) 14 ff., that the virgines played the role of the absent warriors for reasons of propitiation, is not very satisfactory. When I suggested that this may have been connected with the reversal in initiation ritual (in: Visible Religion 4/5 [1985/6)134-72-revised as ch. V in this book-158 n.112), I was not aware that Torelli 1984, 76 ff. and 106 ff. had made the same suggestion: "rito di travestimento 'carnevale' parallelo (anche questo ill Marzo?) ai Matronalia." See for a remarkable Greek parallel in the ambiance of Greek Ares and other instances of women adopting 'warrior roles': Graf 1984. For other Roman festivals with elements of role-reversal-the Nonae Capratinae and the festival of Bona Dea-see: Bremmer 1987b, 76-88, and below chapter IV.
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In the previous chapter we discussed the social and sociopsychological functions of these festivals of reversal: the channelling of agressive impulses fostered by continuous repression, on the one hand, and confirmation of the status quo by the exposure of the impossible reversed world, on the other. It is satisfying to note that this appears to be more than a mere invention of modern anthropologists105: Latin authors explicitly discerned these functions. Columella R.R. 1, 8, 15-19, makes the general statement that a humane treatment will yield willing slaves: "When I realised that such friendliness on the master's part relieved the burden of their continual labour, I often joked with them and allowed them to joke more freely". Solinus 1, 35, and Macrobius, Sat. 1, 12, 7, assert that slaves were given cenae on March 1 and at the Saturnalia by their owners in order to foster obsequium for the immediate future. Dion. Hal. 4, 14, 4 (cf. Cic. De leg. 2, 19, 29) says that at the Compitalia the slaves are freed of their chains: "in order that the slaves, being softened by this instance of humanity, which has something great and solemn about it, may make themselves more agreeable to their masters, and be less sensible of the severity of their condition.'' Another essentially 'Saturnalian' relaxation was constituted by Roman comedy. The Jabula palliata provides an image of the 105 K. R. Bradley, Holidays for Slaves, SO 54 ( 1979) 111-8 = idem, Slaves and Masters in the Roman Empire. A Study in Social Control (Bruxelles 1984) 40-44. To the literature cited above p.116 n.88 add: K. H. Stampp, The Peculiar Institution (New York 1956) 170; 168; 365: letting out pent-up discontent; R. W. Fogel and S. L. Engerman, Time upon the Cross (Boston 1974) I, 148; 240 ff.: "contribution to the paternalistic nature of Southern slave society and engendering a 'sense of community' both among Negro slaves themselves and with their white masters." The Saturnalia display another basic socializing rite in the gift-giving, which inculcates both hierarchy and social 'belonging': G.]. Baudy 1983, esp. 142: the beneficiary remains in the debt of, that is dependent on, the benefactor. Cf. also B. Gladigow, Die Teilung des Opfers. Zur Interpretation von Opfern in vor- und friihgeschichtlichen Epochen, in: K. Hauck (ed.), Frii.hmittelalterliche Studien (Berlin 1984) 19-43, esp. 22 f.; D. Baudy 1987, 7 ff. and 25: "So wie jedes Festmahl, auch das am Neujahrstag, zwar soziale Bindungen, zugleich mit ihnen aber auch eine Hierarchie der Teilnehmer schafft, ist das strenarum commercium durchaus ein Ritual zur Bewiiltigung sozialer Differenzen und Antagonismen, hebt sie aber nicht auf'. Again this is a general principle: the birthday festivities of the aristocracy in 18th century England ''promoted social harmony while reinforcing influence within a deeply hierarchical society'': J. H. D' Arms, Control, Companionship and Clientela: Some Social Functions of the Roman Communal Meal, EMC 28 (1984) 327-48, esp. 343, who applies this to the public feasts given by emperors where the emperor's accessibility as a God among human beings was staged. Cf. also J. Scheid, La spartizione aRoma, StudStor 4 (1984) 945-56.
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reversed world, where respectable Roman senators are worsted and become puppets in the hands of their cunning slaves. Falli per servom senem (A slave cheating his aged master) is the shortest summary of Roman comedy. Here we have indeed a typical topsy-turvy world, which sometimes presents itself in drastically realistic performances. In Plautus, Asinaria 702, we see the young master on hands and knees serving as a mount for his slave, who exultantly shouts: sic isti solent superbi subdomari: "see, how the haughty are subdued." The servus callidus (the cunning slave) exults over his master and defies the social order, exactly as it happened during the Saturnalia. This resemblance has been often indicated, most emphatically by E. Segal 106 and so have the strong similarities with medieval carnival 106 Segal1970, who regrets having to admit that there are no ritual connections between comedy and Saturnalia. However, it could be relevant that the name of one of the first-known Oscan farces is Satoumos, written by Blaesus of Capreae in the third century BC: M. Gigante, Rintone e il teatro in Magna Graecia (Naples 1971) 82, though we should not make too much of this. Of course, the most celebrated name in this connection is Bakhtin, whose views of the camivalesque aspects of ancient comedy have been analyzed and partially criticized by Rosier 1986. Cf. also E. Lelevre, Satumalien und Palliata, Poetica 20 (1988) 32-46, and above p.122. For further critical views on Bakhtin see: Auffarth 1991, 27 n.9. Comedy, like satire, serves one of the functions ofliterature in general, viz. the "displacement of social problems into an imaginary realm" (H. White, Literature and Social Action: Reflections on the Reflective Theory of Literary Art, New Literary History 11 [1980] 166). Even more than other literature, comedy tends "to reaffirm the validity of the strategies and conventions that they, the readers, have for making meaning of the world" A. Radway, Phenomenology, Linguistics and Popular Literature, Journal of Popular Culture 12 [ 1978]96). But comedy, being a Satumalian genre, utilizes specific tools: the inversion of reality. It also, in the end, takes the public back to 'normal' reality, for instance by the stereotyped marriage-scenes: "Marriage as a resolution pleases audiences because it displays the protagonists reintegrated into their society; it is a social judgment reaffirming the worth of human society, both its present and its anticipated future" Perkins, Arethusa 18 [1985] 213, on the ancient novel). However true this is, I, for one, would not over-emphasize this final reconciliation at the cost of the basic topsy-turvy nature that characterizes the major part of the plays, as M. Fuhrmann risks to do: Lizenzen und Tabus des Lachens. Zur sozialen Grammatik der hellenistischen-romischen Komooie, Poetilc und Hermeneutik 7 (1976) 65-102. Nor do other 'escapes' seem very convincing: for instance the view that masters sometimes got what they deserved Dingel, Herren und Sklaven bei Plautus, Gymnasium 88 [1981] 489-504). Or the common explanation that the Greek nature of comedy and its characters maintained sufficient distance to render the palliata acceptable to the Roman public. This idea was coined by F. Leo, Geschichte der romischen Literatur I (Berlin 1913) and has been adopted by many since. See for instance: P. P. Spranger, Historische Untersuchungen zu den Sklavenfiguren des Plautus und Terenz, Abh.Mainz (1960) 110-3. In my view the essential nature of Roman comedy is determined by a mixture of alien and familiar traits ending up in a 'never-never-land' (the term is used by W. G. Amott,
a.
a.
a.
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and the feast of fools 107 . Finally, a peculiar Saturnalian genre is represented by the so-called 'Kneipgesetze': mock laws with instructions concerning the stomaching of impossible amounts of food or drink. One of these leges convivales, a lex Tappula, was mentioned by Festus 108 and a bronze tablet with its very mutilated text turned up a hundred years ago. Published by Mommsen, its interpretation was considerably improved by Von Premerstein 109 , who convincingly argued for a date in the second century BC. Although the content of the law is lost, the praescriptio, which parodies official legislation, has been preserved. The names of the rogatores are mentioned: Multivorus, Properocibus, Mero, which obviously refer to gluttony and drinking. The name Tappa Tapponis f. itself, though an existent name, is generally connected either with the notion of 'clown' (von Premerstein) or with 'gluttony' (Mommsen). Recently, Konrad suggested an etymological relationship with German 'Depp' (fool, idiot), which still has parallels in modern North Italian. However this may be, these rogatores allegedly form the college of the cissiberes, minor police officials who supervised the private convivia or perhaps rather the epula publica 110 , which became increasingly freMenander, Plautus, Terence [London 1975]46). Like Utopia, comedy is a mundus alter et idem as Mercurius Britannicus ( = Joseph Hall) called his book on imaginary expeditions to the Antipodes (ed. W. Knight, Frankfurt a.M. circa 1605). For the aspects of 'metatheatre' in Plautus see: N. W. Slater, Plautus in Performance. The Theatre of the Mind (Princeton 1985). 107 Most emphatically by P. Toschi, Origini del teatro Italiano (Turin 1955). P. Burke, Popular Culture in Early Modem Europe (London 1978), describes the medieval carnival as a gigantic theatrical performance all over the town with a great variety of scenes in which the weak gain the victory over the strong, the young chastise the old, the servants outwit the masters. Moreover, he discerns three central themes: "food, sex, violence". This is Roman comedy .... and Saturnalia. This does not necessarily imply that carnival also originated in the Roman Saturnalia (or the comic theatre): R. Tamassia, Saturno e il carnevale, AFL Siena 5 (1984) 363-76 (non vidi); G. Brugnoli, II carnevale e il Saturnalia, in: P. Clemente (ed.), I jrutti del Ramo d'Oro. James G. Frazer e le eredita dell'antropologia = La Ricerca Folklorica 10 (1984) 49-54, an article which was communicated to me through the kind offices of C. Grottanelli; Auffarth 1991, 24 f. However, it is likely that elements of Roman ritual landed in the carnival as for instance the lex Tappula, with its comic stress on the number eleven, illustrates. 108 Festus 496 (L), Tappulam legem convivalemficto nomine conscripsit iocoso carmine Valerius Valentinus, cuius meminit Lucilius hoc modo (1370 Marx): "Tappulam rident legem, conterunt Opimi". (conter, conterere, committere, confer codd. Congerrae Scaliger). 109 Th. Mommsen, Bull. dell' !st. di Corresp. archeol. (1882) 186-9; A. von Premerstein, Lex Tappula, Hermes 39 (1904) 327-47. ILS 8761. A recent discussion: Chr. F. Konrad, Quaestiones Tappulae, ZPE 48 (1982) 219-34. 110 This suggestion was made by G. Wissowa, Hermes 49 (1914) 628 f.
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quent in late republican times. One of the most interesting features is its dating: a.d. XI K Und[ecembr(es)j: 'the eleventh day before the Kalends of the [non-existent] eleventh month', which is clearly a joke and strongly reminiscent of the number eleven as the fool's number in modern carnival tradition. What is more, whatever the precise calculation 111 , it will always fall in the Saturnalian period. Nor does this exhaust the allusions to the Saturnalia: the first vote lies with the tribus Satureia. This can be understood as a word play on both satur and Saturnalia, but at the same time as a political pun on the tribunus plebis Saturninus who had issued a series of coins showing the head of Saturn in the decade before 100 BC and who was continuously involved in tribunician legislation concerning free corn supply 112 . So Konrad and others venture the suggestion that this 'Saturnalian' mock law contains a political joke at the expense of the demagogue of the year 100 BC. 113 The latter suggestion, if correct, is highly illuminating of the ambivalent atmosphere surrounding these types of Saturnalian expression. Theatrical status-reversal often functions as the conductor of social or political tensions 114 • And just as frequently happened during Carnival in early modern history 115 , people might be suddenly tempted to change illusion into reality. After all, the imagery is See Konrad o.c. (above n.109) for various calculations. This might be the background of the enigmatic pane repetzfto in the text, as Konrad suggests. 113 This would receive strong support if Scaliger's conjecture in the Festus text (above n.108) should be correct: Tappulam legem rident congerrae Opimi. Opimius was consul in 121 BC and a fierce opponent of the popular measures: he was responsable for the slaying of C. Gracchus in that year. 114 Comedy provided an ideal platform for criticizing actual political issues. At Asculum, at the outbreak of the Social War in 91 BC, part of the audience objected to a komoidos who was not playing his part properly-apparently by giving inappropriate emphasis to lines with an implicit political meaning, and they lynched him: Diod. 37, 12; cf. Appian. BC 1, 38; Obsequ. 54; Florus 2, 6, 9. Similar references to political actuality in Rome: Cic. pro Sest. 106, and of course the famous instance of the Metelli censured by Naevius. See: E. Frezouls, La construction du theatrum lapideum et son contexte politique, in: Theatre et spectacles dans l'antiquiti. Actes du Colloque de Strasbourg (Strasbourg 1983) 193; E. Rawson, Theatrical Life in Republican Rome and Italy, PBSR 53 (1985) 97-113, esp. 98 f.; N. Zorzetti, La protesta e il teatro Latino arcaico (Forme, materiali e ideologie del mondo antico 1980). More generally on spectacles and public reactions in Rome: T. Bollinger, Theatralis Licentia. Die Publikumsdemonstrationen an den o.ffentlichen Spielen im Rom der jruheren Kaiserzeit und ihre Bedeutung im politischen Leben (Winterthur 1969); E. Tengstrom, Theater und Politik im kaiserzeitlichen Rom, Eranos 75 (1977) 43-56. 115 See the literature mentioned above p.128 n.128. 111 11 2
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closely related, if not identical, to that which is played out during revolutions. We have already referred to what happened in Sicily in 135 BC when the slaves revolted against their Roman masters and their leader Eunous adopted the title of king and had his former masters wait on him. Similarly, in the fourth century AD the Circumcellions, a marginal and allegedly revolutionary group of deprived labourers with millenarian tendencies had their carts pulled by their former lords 116 . The Romans were clearly aware of this dangerous potential of Saturnalian euphoria. Cic. Cat. 3, 10, reports that during the Catilinarian revolt the rebels under Cethegus wanted to start their coup against the state on the day of the Saturnalia, and Diodorus (FHG II, p. XXVI) explains that they planned to send murderers to the houses of the senators on that very day because then the houses were open to welcome the clients with their presents. When the emperor Claudius sent his influential freedman Narcissus to mutinous troops and the latter took the word in an attempt to redress order, the soldiers shouted "Io Saturnalia", insultingly alluding to the real role-reversal of the ex-slave 117 . Accordingly, as in all festivals of legitimate rebellion, the anomie of the Saturnalia was subject to restrictions on its duration: non semper Saturnalia erunt (the Saturnalia will not last for ever) is a proverbial expression 118 , although the very rich sometimes gave the impression that they semper Saturnalia agunt (always celebrate the Saturnalia)119. Whoever wishes to protract its duration-i.e. project illusion on real life-is either a real fool or a real rebel. The combination of these two qualities is the material of which millenarism is made. Later on we shall observe that both foolish satire and millenarian vision freely exploit Saturnalian imagery when giving shape to conceptions of the undesirable reign of a fool or the impossible reign of a messiah. For the moment this picture of the Saturnalian complex and its social functions may suffice as a starting point for an investigation into its origins, which will provide further elucidation of the nature and various aspects of the god and his festival.
For the evidence see above p.127 n.126. Cass. Dio 60, 19, 3. 118 This appears from Sen. Apocol. 12, 2. It can be compared with the Greek ritual saying: thuraze Keres, ouket' Anthestheria. 119 Petron. Sat. 44, 3. 116 117
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3.
LOOKING BACK: ORIGINS
The origins of the god Saturn lie hidden in the shades of prehistory, a twilight which tends to foster a profusion of theories. When I venture into this field it is not in the hope of discovering the original nature of the god but in the conviction that we can at least detect one of his essential functions, and particularly the one that formed the trait d'union with and lies at the origins of the Saturnalia. A majority of scholars agree that Saturn must at some time have been a chthonic deity, somehow connected with agriculture, and more specifically with the corn harvest. According to some of them his chthonic nature involved more gloomy aspects as well: connections with death and the underworld. This is sometimes supposed to be an Etruscan contribution. As to the agricultural qualities there is scarcely room for doubt for they are positively borne out by 1) Saturn's calendrical position between the festivals ofConsualia and Opalia in December, the 'Sabine' month of affluence, and 2) his occurrence in the series of Sabine gods that were allegedly introduced by Titus Tatius, and who for the greater part belong to the 'third function>1 20 (The characteristic sickle has less-if any-probative value, since it is a primarily mythical attribute, most probably borrowed from Kronos). However, the theory that he was also or more specifically the god of sowing, which has been often defended even by some of those who rejected the etymological connections with serolsatus, should be abandoned 121 . For this would necessarily imply that his festival celebrated the termination of the sowing season (the beginning being quite out of the question), which is incompatible with a number of calendrical and agrarian data: the sowing season did not actually come to an end in this period and, moreover, there !20 It was Dumezil who associated the legendary Sabine contribution to the culture of Rome (including the achievements of king Titus Tatius) with the third function of agrarian affiuence. See his summary in 1966, index s. v. Tatius. He was followed by Le Glay 1966, 454: "Decembre apparait done comme un mois Sabin". Cf. Guittard 1976, and very circumstantially Pouthier 1981, 31-135, and passim. Briquel1981 made the attempt to include Saturn in the ideology of the first function because of his similarities with Iuppiter. Although this article provides some pertinent insights (see below), it offers yet another demonstration that a faithful Dumezilian can prove anything he wishes with the triadic system, and I shall not follow him in this respect. 12 1 Forcefully attacked by Bomer 1961 III, 424 f., who, however, is wrong in denying the agrarian character of the god. There is a better argumentation in Le Glay 1966, 451 ff., followed by Guittard 1976, 52.
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were special festivals for this particular purpose: theferiae Sementivae, which as Jeriae conceptivae were held in J anuary 122 . And even if it is a mythical attribute, the sickle would fit the gathering of the harvest rather than the sowing. Unfortunately, those scholars who-correctly, in my opinionreject the association with sowing, generally do not advance beyond an extremely vague characterization of Saturn, as for instance: "un dieu de la fertilite et de la fecondite" 123 . When we are dealing with a Roman god, belonging to a pantheon marked by 'specialization', this is particularly unsatisfactory, to say the least. The success of any attempt to reach a more precise characterization of (one of) the original functions of the god depends on the satisfaction of two conditions. One is the obligation to offer a convincing and natural explanation of the calendrical position of the Saturnalia; the other is the necessity to elucidate the nature of the cultic and ritual elements of this festival in the light of its original function. I shall try to meet these two conditions in this order. 1. The implications of the calendrical position
The Saturnalia occupy a position exactly between the Consualia of the 15th and the Opalia of the 19th of December. We find a similar triad in August: Consualia on the 21st, Opiconsivia on the 25th and the Volcanalia in between, on the 23rd. The reason for the close connection between the festivals ofConsus and Ops is one of the few undisputed issues of Roman religion. It has been treated many times, most recently and circumstantially by Pouthier 124 . At the end of 122 However, there is a possibility that thesejeriae Sementivae are related to the germination rather than the sowing of the com: J. Delatte, Quelques retes mobiles du calendrier romain, AC 5 (1936) 381-91; J. Bayet, Les 'Feriae Sementivae' et les indigitations dans le culte de Ceres et de Tellus, RHR 137 (1950) 172-206 ( = idem, Croyances et rites dans la Rome antique [Paris 1971] 177 -205). 123 Le Glay 1966, 466, who adds as the only more certain statement that the god has nothing to do with sowing. 124 It had previously been analysed by P. H. N. G. Stehouwer, Etude sur Ops et Consus (Diss. Utrecht 1956); Pouthier 1981, 102-135. This is perhaps the right place to remark once and for all that D. Sabbatucci, La religione di Roma antica. Dal calendario jestivo all 'ordine cosmico (Milan 1988) is impenetrable to me, and as far as, occasionally, I do see the light, inacceptable. For instance, in his view the cult ofConsus actually was the 'culto tombale di Romulo' (274 ff.), and Consus himself was primarily 'il signore del consiglio'. "Gageons que ce livre foisonnant d'idees neuves sera tres discute" is the most elegant summary of the implicitly crushing critique by R. Turcan, RHR 206 (1989) 69-73.
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August the corn was stored in the silos or barns (condere) 125 . The god who controls this activity is Consus, "qui preside a Ia mise en reserve dans les greniers" (who presides over the storing of the corn in the barns, Pouthier 1981, 104). The abundance of the stored corn harvest represents the wealth of the agrarian community: Ops Consiva, ''protectrice du grain abondant ainsi accumule'' (protector of the abundance of corn thus collected, Pouthier 1981, 105). Between the action of storage and the permanent result embodied in the stored supplies, there is a moment of attention for the dangers that threaten agriculture and its products. During the Volcanalia, Vulcanus is propitiated with a 'sacrifice' of living fishes thrown into the fire 126 . Even allowing for the beneficial functions of fire 127 , it cannot be denied that Vulcanus' dangerous and frightening forces predominate. This is the threat that is ritually bought off. Taken together, the various functions and the interrelationship of these three festivals in August are clear. The same cannot be said of the three festivals in December. Firstly, there is the problem of the duplication of the festivals ofConsus and Ops. Numerous interpretations of the December rites have been advanced to offer a solution. The December festivals have been interpreted as the celebration of the necessary inspection of the stock 128 ; as the end of the period of threshing 129 ; as the termination of the sowing season 130 ; and as the festival of the olive harvest 131 . Others remove it from the agrarian 12 5 It has been argued that these silos were not necessarily always subterranean, since Varro R. R. 1, 57, advocates grana ria sublimia. But, first of all, he reflects the fashion of his time, adding, moreover, that some people use subterranean caves as granaries. Secondly, the fact that Consus had an underground altar and was supposed to inhabit an underground dwelling is decisive proof that in early times it was the latter fashion which must have been customary, pace Dumezil 1969, 293 and Pouthier 105 n.5. 126 Fest. 274 (L); Varro, L.L. 6, 20. There is an exceptional agreement among scholars on the interpretation. See for instance: Dumezil1966, 316, and next note; Pouthier 1981, 120. 127 Dumezil, ibid. 315: "le feu qui, pour le bien ou pour le mal, devore et detruit." Pouthier 1981, 119-23, seems to discern a positive force in Vulcanus: "pas insensible a Ia notion d'abondance cerealiere de l'ete", but he does not make clear exactly what he means. Dumezil, Les pisciculi des Volcanalia, REL 36 (1958) 121-30; idem 1975, 61-77, opts for a purely negative threat by the fire ofVulcanus. 128 W. Warde Fowler, The Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic (London 1895) 268-71. 129 G. Wissowa, Ops, in: RML III, 931; idem 1912, 202. 130 Latte 1960, 72; Le Bonniec 1958, 54 ff. 131 A. Kirsopp Michels, The Consualia of December, CP 39 (1944) 50.
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cycle and regard it as: the festival of the closure of the year (condere annum 132 ; a festival of the definitive setting of the sun, which sinks into the earth (condere) at the end of the year 133 ; or a festival for the dead (Consus as a god of the mundus) 134 . In an important article Dumezil 135 has convincingly objected to these theories. They are not supported by the ancient evidence and they fail to fulfil the requirements of the agricultural year 136 . Worst of all, they fail to take account of the overt parallelism with the festivals of August, which should occupy a central place in the argument. In this connection Dumezil has suggested a perfectly convincing interpretation through an appeal to Varro R. R. 1, 62 -69. The Roman polymath here asserts that nemo fructus condit nisi ut promat, and gives three major reasons why people promunt condita (bring to light the stored products): for better protection, for consumption and for reasons of trade. In ch. 69 he gives an additional motive: part of the spelt is reserved ad sationem (for sowing). Here it also appears that any of these different motives has its proper, specific point of time. The most important motive, that of consumption, is connected with wintertime:Jar quod in spicis condideris per messem et ad usus cibatus expedire velis, promendum hieme, ut in pistrino pinsatur ac torreatur (spelt which you have stored in the ear at harvest-time and which you prepare for food, should be brought out in winter, so that it may be ground in the mill and parched: 63, cf. 69). So the festivals of December just before the winter solstitium 132 F. Altheim, Altitalische und altromische Gottesvorstellung, Klio 30 (1937) 39 ff., esp. 48 ff.; idem, Italien und Rom II 3 (Amsterdam-Leipzig, no date) 48 ff. 133 A. Brelich, Die geheime Schutzgottheit von Rom (Zurich 1949) 42-4; L. Deubner, Njb 17 (1911) 327 f. = Kleine Schriften (Konigstein 1982) 327 f. Recently Graf 1985b, 91 f., followed older authors-among others Meslin 1970-in explaining the Saturnalia as a New Year festival. See below p.185. 134 Piganiol 1923, 13. 135 Consus et Ops, in: Dumezil 1969, 289-304, esp. 300 f. 136 His emphasis on the importance of agricultural events and their role in the constitution of the festive calendar should be a continuous guiding principle, especially in the study of Roman religion, also to those who, like the present author, are sceptical of his triadic constructions. Cf. G. J. Baudy 1986, 16: "Dem Interpreten der antiken Religion kann man in der Regel nicht nachsagen, class er von Ackerbau und Viehzucht vie! verstiinde oder sich auch nur die Miihe machte, die antiken Agrarschriftsteller zu lesen. Aber der Festkalender ist von landwirtschaftlichen Zyklen in einem Masse gepriigt, class man die Kulte und ihre aitiologischen Mythen nicht adiiquat verstehen kann, ohne sich klar gemacht zu haben, an weichen agrarischen Daten sie ankniipfen." For a fundamental critique of Dumezil's tripartition theory see: Belier 1991.
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receive a natural explanation if regarded as the ritual celebration of the opening of the silos or granaries in order to produce (promere) the corn necessary for consumptive (or other) purposes. This attractive interpretation of the functional duplication of the two cycles-the one in August being intended for storage (condere) and the one in December for the first bringing out of part of the supply (promere)-can be supported by an argument which Dumezil has failed to notice, but which in my opinion provides decisive proof of its correctness. In the famous series of indigitamenta each of which represents a specific agragrian function 137 , Servius ad Georg. 1, 21, first mentions a number of preparatory functions; next come the functions of sowing, reaping, and collecting; and as the final couple: conditor and promitor 138 , apparently the indigitamenta connected with the storage and the bringing out of the corn harvest. If, then, the function of condere has its ritual celebration, it may be expected that this also holds for its counterpart. Incidently, these views of the function of the December festivals may receive additional support from an interpretation of the goddess Angerona as proposed by Dumezil's favourite scapegoat, H. Wagenvoort. The festival of Diva Angerona fell on the 21st of December, immediately following the Opalia. The nature of Diva Angerona has long been a vexed question. Practically all the older interpretations suffered from very weak or even impossible etymological fantasies. Using very attractive etymological and semasiological arguments, W agenvoort proposed to connect the name with the *angera or angustiae, the 'narrows' which connected the world of the living with the netherworld as the abode of the dead 139 . If this 137 The list goes back to Fabius Pictor. The fact that it already betrays pontifical construction (Latte 1960, 207 f.) by no means reduces the value of the opposition conderelpromere as actions in the domain of cereal production. 138 Similarly, Plautus Pseudo!. 608, mentions the combination of functions condus prom us of a house slave: condus promus sum, procurator peni. Cf. Hor. Ep. 1, 1, 12, condo et compono quae mox depromere possim, and the discussion by E. Fraenkel, Horace (Oxford 1957) 445 and n. 3 (reference ofP. Mason). In chapter IV ofthis book we shall see a similar polarity in the Greek festivals of the Skirophoria and the Thesmophoria (with the same distance in time) showing the alternation of condere and promere of pigs. 139 H. Wagenvoort, Diva Angerona, Mnemosyne 9 (1941) 215-7 = idem 1980, 21-4. This idea was an offshoot from an earlier study of the Fauces Orci, the 'gateways to the underworld': Orcus, SMSR 14 (1938) 35 ff. = idem 1956, 102-31. As a matter of fact, we are confronted with the same discussion that we have met concerning the interpretation of the Saturnalia, since other scholars prefer to view
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theory is correct and Angerona was indeed the goddess who presided over the communications between these two regions, this would fit in perfectly with the contiguity of the Angeronalia and the Consualia/ Opalia which were, as we shall presently elucidate in more detail, precisely intended to restore the interrupted communication with the subterranean world. In the next section we shall observe the close relationship between the representations of subterranean cereal wealth and of the abode of the dead as united in the concepts of the mundus and Dispater. Another illuminating contribution by Dumezil 140 is his analysis of the different names of the deities. Consus is the same god in August and December: he is and remains the protector of the stored supplies. But the Ops of August is emphatically restricted to the kind of wealth that consists of the corn supply (Ops Consiva), whereas in December the nature of her wealth is not subject to restrictions. The corn produced from the barns is now free and available for economic manipulation: it becomes 'wealth' in the more economic and broad meaning of the word. Whereas Dumezil does not mention Saturn and the Saturnalia 141 , Pouthier pays attention to the entire complex of the three festivals of December and the position of the Saturnalia among them. The result, however, is disappointing. He seems to return to the old picture of Saturn as the god of sowing: "Saturne, dieu des energies cachees du sous-sol ( .... ) prend fictivement en charge les semailles pour exprimer son integration a Ia serie de celebrations de decembre." (Saturn, god of the energies stored in a subterranean place ... takes charge over the seed-corn in order to express its inAngerona as an infernal goddess presiding over the end of the year and the death of the sun at the hibernal solstice. See most recently: J. Aronen, Iuturna, Carmenta e Mater Larum. Un rapporto arcaico tra mito, calendario e topografia, Opuscula Instil. Rom. Finl. 4 (1989) 65-88, esp. 83, with further literature. 140 His theories are adopted and elaborated by Pouthier 1981, 102-35. 141 He does mention the problem of Saturnus' position between the two December festivals in Dumezil 1975, 169 f., but avows that it is for him a "grand probleme, que nous ne sommes pas encore en etat de resoudre", while vaguely referring to the importance of the ideology of the end of the year. He was close to the solution, however, when he called Lua mater in this connection: ''Ia 'Mere Dissolution', Ia bonne, utile destruction". Partly following in his tracks, Briquel1981, 131-62, esp. 145 ff., constructs a parallel between Volcanus/ Volturnus in August and Saturn us/ Angerona in December, which would, for the complex of December, result in an atmosphere of the "crise universelle" around the solstice; hence the reversals of the Saturnalia. See below n.181 for a relevant note by J. Scheid.
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tegration in the series of celebrations of December). Nor is this a very lucid definition of Saturn's authentic functions. I believe that we have only to follow the direction indicated by Dumezil to make substantial progress in the interpretation of the god, his 'parhedros' Lua, and his cult and ritual. In order to do so it will be necessary to compare the three festivals of August with those of December, paying special attention to the related functions of the interstitial festivals of Volcanalia and Saturnalia and the gods connected with them 142. As we have seen, the Volcanalia marked a point of crisis, a moment of retardation and stagnation between the action of storing and the happy results of this activity. The crisis is here represented in the image of the most fearful catastrophe that threatens the harvest: fire. We have also seen that the festivals of December present a reversed order: instead of storing and 'burying' (condere) the harvest, it is now opportune to bring out the buried corn from its depository (promere). During this festive cycle there is also a moment 'in between', which marks a retardation between the situation of the hidden supplies and the action of the production. Now, there is only one natural candidate for the function ritualized in this critical moment, namely the action of removing or opening the barrier which has so far kept locked the hidden supplies. Among the great crisis ceremonies of pre-industrial societies one of the most important and ubiquitous is the opening of the stores, either of wine or of food, and the first partaking of the primitiae 143 . No other festival carries such ambivalent connotations: there is the happy expectation of affluence, but at the same time there is anxiety at 14 2 If anywhere, it is here that a maxim defended in recent scholarship on Roman religion, for instance by J. Scheid and M. Beard, proves correct and helpful: "In general, questions about the character of individual Roman deities seem to be misplaced: Roman deities, as part of a pantheon, are understandable only through their relationship (of similarity or opposition) with other members of that pantheon": M. Beard, Writing and Ritual. A Study of Diversity and Expansion in the Arval Acta, PBSR 53 (1985) 114-62, esp. 116 n. 15. 143 It suffices to cite the fundamental treatment by Lanternari 1976, who rightly interprets the primitiae sacrifice in terms of the experience of success, whose negative entailments people fear. He let himself be inspired by the psychological studies of G. Gusdorf, L 'experience humaine du sacrifice (Paris 1948), who gives a very illuminating treatment of feelings of debt, guilt or fear provoked by success. I have followed a similar line of approach in Versnel1977 and 1981b. The most informative primitiae festival in antiquity is the Athenian Anthesteria, providing striking similarities with the Saturnalia. On its ambiguous nature see above p.129, with the references there.
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various levels: concern about the quality of the stock, which is now inspected for the first time and which may have suffered from decay.144 Furthermore, there is the awareness that with this action an irreversible first step has been taken on the way towards total consumption of the reserves. Last but not least, there is the fear of the envy of gods or demons, which preferably strikes human society at these critical moments on the border-line between hopes and fears, affluence and hunger. Our inference that the roots of the Saturnalia must be sought in the critical and ambivalent ceremony of the opening of the corn stores can be supported by other evidence. We therefore proceed to call in the assistance of recent topographical research.
2. The implications of the topographical position Until very recently scholars were at a loss concerning the problem of the topographical location of the Opalia of the 19th of December. In a convincing discussion Pouthier 145 has pointed out that the note of the Fasti Amiternini on December 19: OPAL(IA) Fer(iae) Opi. Opi ad Forum, cannot but refer to a place on the margins of the Forum, somewhere in the vicinity of the temple of Saturn, a position that mirrors the calendrical vicinity and the functional relationship of these two gods 146 . A more comprehensive survey of the topographical evidence and a host of revolutionary new interpretations have been presented by F. Coarelli 147 . I summarize his findings for their relevance to our discussion. Ever since Boni's publications, the small construction made of tuff blocks, which lies behind the rostra and in the immediate vicini144 It was essential to protect the stored corn against decay of various types. For that reason it was recommended to add laurel branches or leaves to the stores: Geopon. 2, 30, 1. 145 Pouthier 1981, 79-86. It had been suggested long before that Ops was a contubernalis in the temple of Saturn: H. Jordan, De sacris Opis aedibusque Opis et Saturni, Eph. Epigr. 3 (1877) 72; Mommsen, GIL rZ p. 337. However, since the gods receive separate sacrifices, this is not very likely, as Pouthier p.81, argues. Coarelli 1983, who calls Ops the 'parhedros' of Saturn (224), seems to adhere to the older theories: ''I' ara Saturni era insieme consacrata a Ops, Ia dea dell' abondanze agricola.'' 146 Note that in the same Fasti Amiternini the sacrifice for Saturn is also qualified as Saturn(o) ad For(um), as John Scheid reminded me. 147 Coarelli 1983, 199-226 (from which I cite), a reprint of an article in DA 9-10 ( 1976-7) 346-77.
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ty of the arch of Septimius Severns has been identified as the Valcanal. This place of the fire ofVulcanus had strong chthonic connotations; people that had been killed by lightning were buried there 148 , as was Romulus 149 , whose 'Entriickung' came close to this 'heroic' kind of death. Coarelli ( 161-78) convincingly demonstrates that this identification is due to a misunderstanding: the Volcanal should be sought in the area of, or even exactly below the Lapis Niger 150 . The little building near the rostra, which thus has become anonymous, is to be identified with the ancient ara Saturni, whose location, according to tradition, was indeed in front of the temple of Saturn 151 • Nor is this all. Macrobius Sat. 1, 11, 48, records a sacellum Ditis arae Saturni cohaerens (a small sanctuary of Dis Pater immediately adjacent to the altar of Saturn) 152 . On the other hand, Macrobius Sat. 1, 16, 16-18, also says: nee patente mundo, quod sacrum Diti patri et Proserpinae dicatum est (in a period in which the 'mundus' was not open. The 'mundus' is a holy place sacred to Dis Pater and
Fest. 370 (L); Gel!. 4, 5, 1-6. Porph. ad Hor. Epod. 16, 13. For the various versions of his death see for instance: I. E. M. Edlund, Must a King die? The Death and Disappearance of Romulus, PP 39 (1984) 401-8; D. Briquel, La i1 62 . It is therefore possible, and to my mind even obvious, to interpret the (legendary) custom of the descending puer as an image of the opening of the silos, the inspection of the stores and the concomitant atmosphere of tension and expectancy. However, even if one refuses to give up the prospective connotations of this 'inspection of the anniproventus', its implications are still !62 As also appears from a formulation used by Paladius 7, 9 for an agrarian method for determining the fertility of specific seeds and thus predicting the yield of the crop of the next year. In this case it appears to be necessary to add the term Juturus: Graeci adserunt Aegyptios hoc more proven tum futuri cuiusque seminis experiri.
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useful as an illumination of the critical atmosphere surrounding this crucial opening of the barns. Let us return for a moment to Praenestine Fortuna, who, besides providing an excellent parallel will also guide us to the theme of this section: myth. Fortuna unites aspects offertility and prognostication. Her name is related tofero/ feraxljertilis, on the one hand, and tofors, on the other 163 . The foundation of her sanctuary had been instigated by a prodigium: mel ex oleafluxisse dicunt (they say that honey was seen streaming from an olive-tree, Cic. Div. 2, 85 f.). Now, streams of honey pouring spontaneously from a tree (a fortiori when this is a tree which itself produces one of the essential victuals) belong to the basic images of the abundance of the Golden Age 164 • Brelich 165 has explained the curious image of Fortuna Primigenia (the 'original' or 'first-one') nursing the infant puer Jupiter at Praeneste as the expression of the precosmic period when Iupiter had not yet inaugurated the rules and norms of orderly society and in which all things still lay in the womb of time, i.e. in the ambiguous power of Fortuna. The destinies had not yet been fixed and all options were open. This, then, finds its reflection in the oracular function of Praenestine Fortuna. The sortes, which are conditae and are only recovered (tolluntur) at the day of the festival of the goddess (11-12th of April), refer to the indeterminate ambiguity of the time between the times, the caesura in wich the kosmos is temporarily suspended and precosmic ambiguity returns 166 . F. M. Lazarus, On the Meaning of Fors Fortuna: A Hint from Terence, 106 (1985) 359-67, emphasizes this aspect of the Fors Fortuna 'who brings something'. Cf. I. Kajanto, Fortuna, in: ANRWII, 17, 1 (1981) 502-58, esp. 504: 'bringer', consequently: 'bringer of good luck, success'. Cf. Brelich 1976, 23 ff.; Champeaux 1982, 208 f. 164 H. Usener, Milch und Honig, Kleine Schriften IV (Leipzig 1913) 398-417; Gatz 1967, index s.v.; esp. Piccaluga 1974, 153 ff. In this connection it is significant that honey, as applied in nephalia sacrifices, is a signum for abnormal, pre-cultural conditions: Graf 1980; 1985b, 27-9. 165 Brelich 1950, 16 ff.; idem, Roma e Praeneste. Una polemica religiosa nell' Italia antica, in: Brelich 1976, 17-55. On Iuppiter Puer see also: J. Champeaux, Religion romaine et religion latine: les cultes de jupiter etjunon a Preneste, REL 60 (1982) 71-104, with the reactions by H. Riemann, Iuppiter Imperator, RM 90 (1983) 233-338; 91 (1984) 396 n.49. I cannot go into the vexed questions concerning Fortuna as mother or daughter; see: Champeaux 1981. On the 'two' goddesses: H. Riemann, Praenestinae Sorores. Praeneste, MDAI(R) 95 (1988) 41-73. On the implications of the word puer see: G. Bonfante, Puer= filius, jilia, PP 36 (1981) 312-4. 166 We noticed above (p.130) that, accordingly, New Year's day is the proper moment to 'fix the destiny' of the year and as such is invariably connected with 163
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Returning to Saturn, we have seen that this god, who was both the father and predecessor oflupiter, was also represented as having reigned in the period before the creation of cosmic history (or who introduced the preconditions for the creation of human civilization ) 167 . With respect to the mundus close to his altar, Plutarch Romul. 11 specifies that Rome's foundation was accompanied by a ritual in which all the would-be inhabitants, gathered from a great number of foreign cities, threw a handful of earth from their native land into the pit, which henceforth served as the centre of the new city. This is clearly an act of sunoikismos 168 , an act of creation of a cosmos out of a precosmic chaos without contours-neither centre nor boundaries-, social or political institutions. This interpretation fits in perfectly with the legend of Romulus, who lured a bunch of bandits, outlaws and apoleis to the place of future Rome by offering them asulia 169 • The phrasing of this particular episode in ancient literature is revealing. Dion. Hal. 2, 15, 4, says that Romulus consecrated the place between the Capitol and the citadel which is today called 'inter duos lucos', and made it an asylum for suppliants. There he took up ''fugitives, paying no regard to their calamities or to their
the taking of auspicia. For Rome see: H. Ericsson, Die romischen Auspizien in ihrem Zusammenhang mit der Magistratur, AR W33 (1936) 294-303; Meslin 1970, 23-36; D. Baudy 1987, 18 ff. 167 By way of suggestion I here add some aspects of the Roman cult of Fortuna which show remarkable similarities with some elements of the cult of Saturn. The Fortuna of the Forum Boarium is completely enwrapped in a toga (Ovid Fast. 6, 569 ff.; Dion. Hal. 4, 40, 7; Val. Max. 1, 8, 11). The toga was just as un-Roman for women as the pallium was for men. Fors Fortuna was a goddess particularly worshipped by slaves and the poor with a hilarious festival of a carnivalesque nature (Ovid Fast. 6, 755 ff. with Bomer ad loc.; Cic. Dejin. 5, 70); on the occasion of their manumissio, ex-slaves devoted little figurines with a pilleus to the goddess; cf. Champeaux 1982, 235 ff. It was also the day on which king Servius Tullius, the apolis and exsul who became king (just as Saturn, below p.179), was commemorated. See: Bomer 1957 I, 148-50. All this strikingly recalls Saturnalian phenomenology. I am of course aware of alternative explanations such as the one proposed by Champeaux. Moreover, I.Kajanto, o.c. (above n.163) contests any connection between Praenestine and Roman Fortunae. 168 As was seen by Weinstock 1930, 118. Cf. further A. Szabo, Roma Quadrata, Maia 8 (1956) 243-74, esp. 268; R.E. A. Palmer, The Archaic Community of the Romans (Cambridge Mass. 1970), 182 f.; E. Peruzzi, Romulus' Furrow, PP 36 (1981) 106-28; Coarelli 1983, 224; Castagnoli 1986. 169 On the dubious nature of this conluvies convenarum (Justin. 38, 7, 1) round Romulus full evidence in: A. Schwegler, Romische Geschichte J2 (Tiibingen 1867) 459, nn. 1-5, and 464 f. Cf. AlfOldi 1974, 120; Guittard 1980a, 165. The most recent treatment: Bremmer 1987b, 38 ff.
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fortunes, provided only they were free men ( ..... ) and he offered them citizenship". Plutarch Romul. 9, is even more explicit: "in the asylum (hieron phuximon) all types were admitted and he did not hand over slaves to their masters, nor labourers to their creditors, nor murderers to the authorities''. Similarly, Livy 1, 8, 6, says that asuleia was offered to everyone irrespective liber an servus esset (whether he was free or slave). The Romulean creation of orderly society out of anomie chaos was thus preceded and conditioned by a genuinely 'Saturnalian' intermezzo in which the slave is freed, the debtor cannot be called to account and the guilty cannot be persecuted 170 . This mythical imagery concerning the critical moment 'in between' has an exact parallel in the reversed rules of anomy during the actual Saturnalia. And Plutarch was well aware of this. Now, the crowning piece of these revealing associations is that the Romulean asylum, place of 'Saturnalian' acquittal and liberation, was situated between the two summits of the Capitolium. As Guittard 1980a has shown, it is this very place where Yarra L.L. 5, 42, located the ara Saturni: Saturnijanum injaucibus. This, of course, does not mean that it was indeed the original site of the altar. But it does show that the polyhistor found sufficient elements in the ideology surrounding this asylum of Romulus to associate (if not identify) it with (the altar of) Saturn. So we observe a strong parallelism in the myths of Saturn and Romulus. Saturn is an exsul and as such associated with chaos and lack of standards. However, as the first king in pre-cultural Italy he 170 Unnecessary to say that all this is not history in our sense of the word, an asylum being a stark anachronism in 'the Rome of753 BC', but it certainly was what the Romans understood by history, that curious mixture of historicized myth, legend and genuinely historical tradition. See above n.84. The theme of the ambiguous founder-hero is widespread. Brelich 1976, 41 ff., has made a comparison between Caeculus, founder of Praeneste and Romulus, who are both wild and lawless figures. "II fondatore e una figura ambivalente-come lo e, p. es. su un piano cosmogonico, Ia generazione divina o titanica che precede quella dei padroni definitivi del cosmo-rappresenta il non-ordine, rna anche Ia condizione imprescendibile dell' ordine: percio elementi 'positivi' e 'negativi' si mescolano nel suo carattere e nella sua storia" (53). Cf. also M. Benabou, Remus, lemur et Ia mort, AION(archeof) 6 (1984) 103-15, on Romulus as an ambiguous figure who creates order but comes forth from a world without order. On Caeculus see Bremmer 1987b, 49-62. In all this we have the exact replica of rituals like the ones qualified by Weidkuhn 1977, 172: ''cultivating savagery saves civilization'', or as Lincoln 1982 said about interstitial periods and places: "anomalies such as these-places outside space, moments outside time, people and things beyond easy classification-that are most dangerous and most creative as well".
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founds a mythical Utopia of order and peace. Similarly, Romulus, exsul in the social and political chaos of pre-Roman 'history', as the first king creates a historical realm of social order. Both mythical founders thus unite the two extremes of Aristotle's expression (Pol. 1253a 5): "A man that is by nature and not merely by fortune cityless (apolis) is either low on the scale of humanity or above it". Both creations are prepared by images of Saturnalian reversal and the liberation of the fettered.
4. An interim balance sheet The calendrical complex of the December festivals put us on the track of the roots of the Saturnalian festival. Just like the Volcanalia, the Saturnalia functioned as a moment of stagnation and awareness of crisis between the two surrounding festivals. Whereas the former articulated the critical moment preceding the storage of the corn, the latter ritualized the moment of anxiety during the opening of the barn. The topographical evidence lent strong support to our theory. In the context of the immediately adjacent structures of ara Saturni, mundus, and umbilicus-even if they cannot be as positively identified as Coarelli supposed-(not to mention the legendary asylum) we descry a conjunction of the following motifs: the care for the hidden cereal treasures, the creation of temporary connections between world and subterranean space, and the tensions and ambiguities connected with these critical moments. It is highly significant that the taboos connected with the Saturnalia also applied to the days of patet mundus 171 . Finally, a number of concomitant mythical associations afforded further corroboration. On two levels-the mythical and the pseudo-historical-there are identical references to the imagery of the Saturnalian 'intermezzo' in the period between chaos and cosmos, immediately preceding the creation of a realm of order by a primordial king. One divine person closely connected with Saturn has gone unrecorded so far: Lua (Saturni). The following discussion has a twofold purpose: it provides a new interpretation of the nature of this goddess; and, by doing so, it completes the picture of Saturn's primordial occupations. 171 Piccaluga 1977 not only noticed this, but also argued for an ideological connection between the Saturnalia and the Mundus patet: both realize an interruption, in daily reality, of a past usually considered irreversible: the mythical past and the 'dead' past.
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5. A new interpretation of Lua
Although, as we have seen, scholars generally agree on the etymology of the name (related to luollues 172 ), there is no agreement whatsoever as to the nature of the goddess Lua 173 . A small minority of scholars regard her as an exclusively mild and benificent power who has the control over the germination of the seed 174 ; according to many others, she has a purely negative nature, since her name betrays the function of 'destruction' 175 . Finally, some scholars opt for an ambivalent nature displaying both positive and negative aspects 176 . Her name occurs in the famous series of divine couples given by Gellius 13, 23: Luam Saturni, Salaciam Neptuni, Horam Quirini, Virites Quirini, Maiam Vulcani, Heriem Iunonis, Moles Martis, Nerienemque Martis. Scholars agree that the first elements of these combinations, being abstract nouns, consistently indicate a quality or modality of the god whose name is added in the genitive. Most of them are transparent: we can distinguish the 'jumping quality' of Neptunus, the 'will' (or 'impulse') and the 'male forces' ofQuirinus and the 'masculine strength' of Mars. I shall not dwell on these much-discussed 177 names and functions. However, it will be expedient to single out Maia Vulcani for a brief discussion in view of the correspondence between Vulcanus and Saturnus as gods in control 172 There are very few exceptions: Radke 1965, 166; idem 1987, 89; K. Ken~ nyi, Altitalische Gotterverbindungen, SMSR 9 (1933) 17-28, esp. 18, both utterly improbable. 173 Jan Bremmer drew my attention to M. A. Marcos Casquero, Lua Saturni, Helmantica 31 (1980) 207-31, an article that had escaped me. I am also indebted to Monserratjuffresa, who was so kind as to furnish me a copy. The author argues that Saturn was essentially a negative and fearful god connected with funerary ideology and only gradually became associated with agrarian qualities. He connects Saturn with the human sacrifices of the Argei. Accordingly, Lua is the personification of 'destruction' and as such fits into the Saturnian atmosphere of death. 174 Radke and von Domaszewski, quoted above n.41. 175 For instance Wissowa 1912, 208: "eine unholde Macht, die man zu versohnen wiinschte, .... der von lues gewiss nicht zu trennen ist .... ; Feindin der Saaten, also gewissermassen das feindliche Gegenspiel ihres Kultgenossen Saturns"; Latte 1960, 55 n.3: "verderbliche, zerstorende Macht"; Eisenhut, in: Kleine Pauly III, 743: "die vernichtende Macht". 176 So Dumezil1956, 99-115 and idem 1966, 271, since the 'dissolution' of the enemy weapons has positive effects for the Romans. 177 K. Latte, Uber eine Eigentiimlichkeit in der italischen Gottesvorstellung, ARW24 (1926) 244 ff., esp. 251 ff.; F. Altheim, Altitalische Gotternamen, SMSR 8 (1932) 146-65, esp. 162 ff.; K. Kerenyi, Altitalische Gotterverbindungen, SMSR 9 (1933) 17-28; W. Warde Fowler, The Religious Experience of the Roman People (London 1933) 481-5; Radke 1965, 24-36; 1987, 88 f.
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of the critical moments of stagnation between the festivals of Consus and Ops, and above all in view of the complex natures of their parhedroi. First, it should be noted that nowhere in Latin literature Lua Mater, as the destroyer of the enemy weapons, is identified or even connected with Lua Saturni, who-according to the practically unanimous judgment of scholars-must have had a function in agricultural ideology. In my view, the origin of the confusion concerning the nature of the goddess Lua must be sought in the unnecessary but common assumption that there was only one goddess, who must have combined the qualities of both Lua Mater and Lua Saturni. And it is exactly the case of Maia Vulcani that may warn us against the facile identification of two indigitamenta that go under one name. Maia Vulcani cannot be anything else than "das hemmungslose Anwachsen der Feuerbrunst" 178 (the unbridled fanning of the fire) connected as she is with the stem mag- (magnus, maior). It was quite customary to make sacrifices to such negative deities, as the cults of Febris, Tempestates, Verminus, Robigus, etc. prove, besides the example ofVulcanus himself. Now, we should not forget that these abstract nouns naturally carry the polysemy of their basic meaning. This opens up the possibility that in other combinations or contexts, Maia, as 'growing power', may have quite different and even positive connotations. In this case this semantic doubling can be clearly demonstrated since as goddess of the month of May (Maius), Maia was the deity of the growing force in nature. So it is irrefutable that we have to deal with two quite different numina having the same name, though very different, and even contrasting, characters. Returning to Lua, our first inference can be that the Lua Mater who controls the destruction of the enemy weapons is not necessarily the same as the Lua Saturni in the series in Gellius. The stem lu- may have destructive connotations, as appears from the function of Lua
!78 Latte 1960, 130. I wonder whether perhaps an implicit reference to this meaning is hidden in Varro, L.L. 5, 70: Ignis agnascendo. Ab ignis iam maiore vi ac violentia Volcanus dictus. Of course, this is "eine seiner unsinnigsten Theorien" (Eisenhut, Volcanus, RE Supp. XIV, 949); "fantaisiste" 0. Collart, Va"on. De L.L. livre V [Paris 1954] 188). But two things stand out: the most characteristic quality ofVolcanus is violentia (so already in Plaut. Men. 330, ad Volcani violentiam), and by the term maiore-i.e. the word whose stem is present in Maia Volcanireference is made to the fanning force of Volcanus.
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Mater, who is probably related to lues, but etymologically its meaning is by no means exclusively negative. In my search for the authentic meaning of Lua Saturni, I shall start from the generally accepted fact that the abstracts in Gellius' list denote essential or conspicuous qualities or activities of the gods thus named. We have found that Saturn was the god whose festival was specifically connected with the ambiguous moment of the opening of the subterranean corn supplies. If this is so, it is only consistent if we try to explain Lua in the light of the original and most obvious meaning of the stem lu-, as has been done for the parallel case of Maia Vulcani. Of course, the predominant meaning of luo in historical sources is 'to pay', but it is certain that the original meaning is 'to make loose, to set free, to liberate' , also 'to redeem' (for instance a mortgaged property) 179 . Characteristically for Rome, this original meaning has been preserved above all in the conservative language oflaw 180 . The combination of the basic function of Saturn and the basic meaning of luo provides a most natural explanation of the nature of Lua Saturni. This goddess embodies one of Saturn's major and original qualities: to 'make loose, set free, liberate' the stored supply and make it accessible for human use 181 . Though perhaps sharing Saturn's 179 See OLD s.v. n.15; LEWs.v.: 'li.ise, befreie, bezahle, li.ise auf, vernichte'. Significantly, Varro L.L. 8, 36, when looking for words that yield the same form though belonging to a different paradigma, mentions Lua and luo in one phrase: ut cum dico ab Saturni Lua Luam, et ab solvendo luo luam: "when I say accusative Luam from Saturn's Lua, and also luam as future of luo 'making loose'." 180 Also in the word lues Latin preserved the two basic notions: 1) loosening in the sense of destruction > decay, pestilence; 2) that which is not bound > fluid water. 181 G. Dumezil, La courtisane et les seigneurs coloris (Paris 1983) 172, does explain Lua as "Ia Dissolution", but tries to interpret her function in the context of the "crise hivernale" with the associated dissolution of the social hierarchy. Independently, J. Scheid, Romulus et ses freres: le college des freres arvales, modele du culte public dans la Rome des empereurs (Paris-Rome 1990) 219, comes very close to my position when, in an aside and without reference to Lua, he suggests that Saturn's main function is that of "dissolveur" connected with the opening of the earth and the production of the corn reserves. Both in Paris and in Leiden, colleagues reacting to my paper on this subject, pointed out that the parallelism with the threatening intermezzo of Vulcanus in August would be even closer if Lua could be seen as a negative quality of the ambivalent Saturn (thus unconsciously reviving the ideas first phrased by Wissowa [see above n.175 ]). This suggestion might also restore the identification with Lua Mater, since the enemy weapons were also said to be sacred to Vukanus. Though I would not principally rule out the possibility ofLua Saturni being a negative quality of Saturn (as the originator of overheating or decay of the corn?), I still prefer the ideas as presented in the text. The day of the opening of
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ambivalent nature in terms of the peculiar mixture of expectation and anxiety of his festival, she is not to be identified with the Lua mater who presided over the destruction of the enemy weapons and who represented a different aspect of luo.
6. The origin of the Saturnalian imagery: the relationship of myth and ritual As I remarked before, I do not claim to have detected the original nature of Saturn. I fear that our evidence is too lacunary ever to arrive at definitive and all-embracing conclusions. However, our new interpretation certainly does nothing to contradict the general surmise that the god was somehow connected with the stored corn and its chthonic ambiance. This function associates him with Consus 182 , but we are now able to distinguish the differences between their functions as well. Whereas Consus protects the hidden corn supplies, Saturn-assisted by, or in his quality of, Lua Saturnicontrols the critical moment of the opening and release of the supplies. My suggestions thus focus on the specific function during his unique festival of December 17th. It now remains to investigate whether this interpretation can indeed elucidate other remarkable traits of his cult and ritual. If so, this would lend additional support to our theory. Let us begin with the iconographical peculiarities. The god's structural condition of being in chains, as opposed to his exceptional liberation on the day(s) of the Saturnalia-probably an authentically Roman representation-is perfectly understandable as an image of the 'liberation' of the 'imprisoned' corn. This may have fostered the adoption of the Greek Kronos iconography: the iconographic feature of the veiled head suits the 'hidden' god of the corn supply, just as the mythical sickle suits his connections with the reaped corn (and not with sowing). As the festival of the opening of the barns, the Saturnalia bears the nature of an interstitial festival, an anomie stagnation of the nor-
the stores is in itself sufficiently precarious and threatening to explain the parallelism with the Volcanalia in August. And there is not one parhedros in the list of Gellius which in itself carries a negative notion. Only in combination with a negative god (such as Vulcanus) the qualification may attract a negative connotation as well. !82 V. Basanoff, Regijugium (Paris 1943) 61-9, explains Saturn as the god who has control of the aerarium in the cellars of his temple, and who functions as "le 'conditor' de Ia moisson commerciale".
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mal course of the year. The elements ofiustitium, role-reversal, orgy, licence and, more particularly, the freedom to gamble-an implicit allusion to the open options during the anomie situation-are markers of the ambiguous atmosphere of these festivals of crisis. It is these aspects, in addition to the calendrical position close to the end of the year, which have Jed some scholars to isolate the Saturnalia from the agrarian festive complex of December and to view it as a festival that marked the end of the (solar) year183 . One of their arguments is the use of candles at the Saturnalia. Given its phenomenology there is no objection whatsoever to calling the Saturnalia a New Year festival 184, provided it is not deprived of its originally cereal nature. Though an amalgamation with the solar incision of the winter solstitium was a matter of course 185, I hope to have demonstrated that it is a mistake to regard the Saturnalia itself as a solar New Year festival. As to the candles, they may have been derived from a ritual accompanying a neigbouring caesura in the solar year. However, it would be rash to deny them an authentic place in the original Saturnalian rites out of hand. The opening of the subterranean barns and the production of affluence from their dark abode may have elicited associated rituals such as making light by 183 See the literature mentioned above p.167. Bi:imer 1961 III, 428 ff., in particular, has attempted to deny the Saturnalia their agrarian functions. Cf. L. Deubner, Kleine Schriften (Ki:inigstein 1982) 119 f.: "Die Saturnalien sind ein Neujahrsfest, wei! man das neue Jahr auch mit der Wintersonnenwende anfangen lassen konnte". More recently, Graf 1985b, 91, adopted a similar position: "Dass es dabei urspriinglich urn ein N eujahrsritual handle, wurde schon lange vermutet und diese Deutung verdient gegeniiber der geliiufigen eines Festes von Ackerbauern am Ende der Aussaat den Vorzug". However, agrarian festivals, and especially festivals of the primitiae (compare above all the Greek Anthesteria and the discussion above p.170), can and often do develop features of a New Year festival. Moreover, in the New Year theory the indisputable cohesion with the other two festivals of the corn complex (Consualia and Opalia) is ignored. The origin of the Saturnalia as a festival of Saturn at least requires an attempt to explain its original function from the calendrical context. And, last but not least, it is very hard to imagine a Roman god having originated as the personification of such an abstract idea as New Year. These objections by no means affect the value of Grar s analysis of the Saturnalian features of the festival, nor do they question the fact that in later times the Saturnalia unmistakably developed into a genuine New Year festival. See the following foot-notes. 184 Pouthier 1981, 125, somewhat poetically calls the Saturnalia "un sacre de transgression, qui permet de depasser le 'tunnel saturnal' ". 185 Solstitialis dies qui Satumaliorum festa consecutus est, Macrob. Sat. 1, 2. The Saturnalia were, in later times, amalgamated with the Brumalia and the ceremonies of the 1st of January. See: Meslin 1970, passim.
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the kindling of candles. At first sight this may perhaps seem a rather adventurous construction, but this is precisely the way that free association works 186 . Recognition of this function might even help to explain an enigmatic expression handed down by Festus 106 (L) in the context of the Saturnalian sacrifice: Lucem facere dicuntur Saturno sacrificantes, id est capita detegere ('making light' is said of those who are sacrificing to Saturn: it means that they uncover their heads). The problem is that the well-known custom of sacrificing capite aperto to Saturn cannot possibly explain nor have given rise to the curious expression lucem Jacere. Festus' explanation that lucem Jacere originally meant 'to uncover the head' looks very much like a secondary autoschediasma. What then can its original meaning in the context of the cult of Saturn have been? The expression calls to mind technical terms such as sublucare and conlucare, which, as Festus 474 (L) says, mean: ramos earum (i.e. arborum) supputare et veluti suptus lucem mittere. Conlucare autem succisis arboribus locum inplere luce187 • At the very least these expressions confirm that abstract formulas such as 'to make light' may refer to very practical and concrete actions like removing the obstacles which prevent the daylight from shining through. This could also be implied in lucem facere as terminus technicus for the removal of the barrier to the subterranean supplies, which was perhaps ritually celebrated with the kindling of candles and certainly with a capite aperto sacrifice to Saturn, and thus came to be projected on this more visible rite of 'disclosure'. Finally, there remain two questions of priority: the priority of the liberation of Saturn as compared to the 'liberation' of the revellers, especially the slave population, and the priority of myth and ritual. As to the former issue, the question of 'which was first?' is particularly justified if we recall that Macrobius Sat. 1, 8, 5 and Statius Silv. 1, 6, 4, denote the fetters of Saturn by the term compedes (slave186 It is certainly not more adventurous than the current interpretation of the kindling of candles during Easter night in the orthodox liturgy. It is understood as the sign that Christ has risen from the grave and so has returned to the light oflife and that now light shines in the dark announcing the hope of a new salvation. Although associations with the rising sun (or the New Year) no doubt may intermingle, it would be reductionist to derive the rite from such 'natural' origins. l87 "Sublucare is to cut off the lower branches of trees and thus-as it were 'suptus' (the meaning of this old word is unknown H.S.V.]-make light. Conlucare, on the other hand, is a to enlighten a place by cutting down trees''. Cf. Cato De agr. 139, lucum conlucare; Colum. 2, 21, 3.
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chains). Nobody to my knowledge ever gave a more lapidary view of this relationship than W. B. Kristensen in his expression already quoted above: "Saturn was a slave himself' 188 . When Bomer judged this to be '' einfach absurd'', his negative verdict was dictated not in the last place by his wish to dissociate the religious aspects of the Saturnian cult entirely from the carnivalesque relaxation of the Saturnalia, an objectionable point of view. As a result of our investigation we are now able to formulate some conclusions with more conviction and on a more solid basis than has hitherto been possible. First of all, it will be useful to outline the difference with the case of Kronos. In his case, it proved impossible to establish a particular agrarian or social activity which could serve as the kernel of the myth and ritual complex. If there had been an agrarian origin of the festival, it may have been of the nature of the Roman Opiconsivia and Consualia of August: celebrations of the end of the harvest and of the storage of the corn. But we cannot be sure. However, whatever its original nature, myth and ritual should be understood as two parallel expressions of the climate of ambiguity surrounding the break between the Old Year and the New, an interpretation which, of course, was supported by the calendrical position of the Kronia in the final month of the Athenian year. In Rome the situation is different. Here I do believe that I have found the original agrarian kernel of the festival. Its nature as a primitiae festival provides a most natural explanation for both the images of abundance and the tension and ambiguity in Saturnian cult and ritual. We have analysed Saturn's basic function on the 17th of December and concluded that all the characteristic features of the god and his festival can be naturally explained as metaphors, transformations and ritualizations of this function: his nature as a deus otiosus during the rest of the year, his 'liberation' (luere) and activity on the day of his festival, his iconography and various rites. Hence we drew our conclusion that (supposed) connections with the caesura in the solar year must have been the result of a secondary assimilation with neighbouring festivals, an assimilation which no doubt was fostered by the typical atmosphere of crisis common to both types of caesura. It is this very nature of a crisis festival that also provoked a ritual
188
Above p.133.
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celebration with demonstrative role-reversal, suspension of norms and law, and licence. We have repeated time and again that this ritual was characteristic of various kip.ds of critical periods: the calendrical (solar) end of the Old Year, agrarian incisions such as primitiae festivals 189 , social events such as initiation, the temporary return of the dead, etc. Consequently, it is hardly justified to isolate the liberation of the slaves from the total complex and take it either as an imitation of or as a model for the liberation of Saturn. The temporary liberty of the subdued, being a typical aspect of anomie licence, simply belongs to the fixed taxonomy of crisis festivals in general. On the other hand, we should not forget that this specific festival of reversal focused on slaves and servants, while other rites