The Gates of Horn and Ivory

I was in the middle of blogging when my computer crashed. It hadn't auto saved yet and I haven't gotten to the end of a paragraph yet, so not too much lost. Looks like it wasn't time for me to post that post yet! Funny how that happens.

I've been going back and forth tonight about which topic to pursue: The name Mary as an epithet of the Sea Goddess? Workshop I'm working on with my Evil Twin? Revisiting previous posts and expanding? Aeneas? Cybele? You can tell I'm a bit out of sorts tonight. I'm being called to dream. I'm unusually tired even after sleeping in this morning.

I've rewritten this several times. I'm going back and forth with Mercury as one who guides through dreams and The Aeneid. Perhaps I should marry the two topics?

From The Odyssey:

He (Hermes) led them down dank ways, over gray
Ocean tides, the Snowy Rock past shores
of Dream and narrows of the sunset, 

From Karl Krenyi's Hermes: Guide of Souls:

Here Hermes is... the "ruler of dreams" (hegetor oneiron), not the
"leader of souls." To this we could perhaps compare the Homeric
passage in which the dream-like people of Phaiakia-a Hermetic
people, worthy of the world of the Odyssey-sacrifice to Hermes
before going to sleep (Odyssey, Book VII, 138); yet the last book
of the Odyssey, with the epiphany of the psycho-pomp, is again
removed into the distance of another world. Missing here, too, is
any hint of Phalakian mildness; we must think rather of the
deceit-fulness of misleading dreams. 

Moving back to the Odyssey for a moment, which Virgil used as a model for The Aeneid, we have Homer's famous metaphor, "the Gates of horn and ivory." It's a passage back from The Underworld which both Odysseus and Aeneas must travel to return from their sojourn with the dead. The "gates of horn and ivory" is a pun, a play on Greek words: the Greek word for "horn" sounds like the word "fulfil" and the word for "ivory" sounds like "deceive." Hence false dreams are ivory and true are horn. In The Odyssey, Penelope has a dream which signals Odysseus' return, but she doesn't believe it, calling it a false dream, passing through the gate of ivory. False dreams were thought to occur before midnight and so when Aeneas returns from the Underworld, it's allegedly before midnight, and therefore he goes through that gate. There are Inception-like discussions about whether or not the rest of the book is "true" but I'm not following that thread tonight.

I find it very interesting that the gates to the Underworld are the ones through which dreams pass as well. Dreams can deceive, they can say one thing and mean another. Sounds like our man, eh?

Off to sleep. It's after midnight; time to get some true dreaming underway.


Sogni d'oro!

Blo0o0o0o0o0o0o0od!!! Part 1

Thanks to Dusio for the inspiration for tonight's post. Maybe one day he'll post here too since this can be a "team blog." That enough of a hint? :-D I apologize in advance for the all over the map post. I'm very tired tonight after a long day and am having trouble organizing my thoughts. At least I refrained from posting the lyrics to "Bloodletting!"

A real, in-depth treatment about what blood meant in the ancient world is beyond the scope of a blog. I'd like to see a book dedicated to it. Are there any good resources on this topic? In the meanwhile, I'm going to throw a few ideas, facts, opinions and quotes out there regarding blood and it's awesome powerz:

Opinion: Blood is blood is blood. Menstrual blood isn't any more special than any other blood except that you don't have to cut yourself to get it. On what do I base this opinion? I have been on both sides of having menstruated and no longer menstruate. My blood is just as potent now as it was then. First-hand experience.

Facts: Blood sacrifice was practiced in the ancient world and is still practiced today, both literally and figuratively. Magic words are said to turn wine and bread into blood and flesh. Then they're eaten.

Gladiator tournaments were held to celebrate festivals and to appease deities with the blood sport.

Ideas:

From The Odyssey: "I made a drink-offering to all the dead, first with honey and milk, then with wine, and thirdly with water, and I sprinkled white barley meal over the whole, praying earnestly to the poor feckless ghosts, and promising them that when I got back to Ithaca I would sacrifice a barren heifer for them, the best I had, and would load the pyre with good things. I also particularly promised that Teiresias should have a black sheep to himself, the best in all my flocks.

When I had prayed sufficiently to the dead, I cut the throats of the two sheep and let the blood run into the trench, whereon the ghosts came trooping up from Erebus... they came from every quarter and flitted round the trench with a strange kind of screaming sound that made me turn pale with fear. When I saw them coming I told the men to be quick and flay the carcasses of the two dead sheep and make burnt offerings of them, and at the same time to repeat prayers to Hades and to Proserpine; but I sat where I was with my sword drawn and would not let the poor feckless ghosts come near the blood till Teiresias should have answered my questions."

"...I see my poor mother's ghost close by us; she is sitting by the blood without saying a word, and though I am her own son she does not remember me and speak to me; tell me, Sir, how I can make her know me.'

"'That,' said he, 'I can soon do Any ghost that you let taste of the blood will talk with you like a reasonable being, but if you do not let them have any blood they will go away again.'

"I sat still where I was until my mother came up and tasted the blood. Then she knew me at once and spoke fondly to me..."

Book 11 is my favorite. Perhaps because it talks about Proserpina as queen of the underworld and mentions Minos as a Magician and Diana killing another woman, Ariadne.

"Then I saw Phaedra, and Procris, and fair Ariadne daughter of the magician Minos, whom Theseus was carrying off from Crete to Athens, but he did not enjoy her, for before he could do so Diana killed her in the island of Dia on account of what Bacchus had said against her"

It's an excellent look at an ancient concept of life after death.

Moving away from The Odyssey... In Greek lore, there are the Empusae, the Mormo and the Lamia. They are said to drink blood, and are either daughters of, or companions to Hekate.

Back to more opinion again: It's the life-force, itself. To give your life for something, even if that life is easily renewed, is a huge gesture, an actual sacrifice. Back in the ancient day, no one knew about DNA or how much blood you had or where it came from. They knew that without it, you would cease to be. Speaking of DNA, I was asked about the importance of being "of the blood." Yes, it's important to a degree. At this point in history, most of us are pretty well mixed, if we know it or not. In addition to several different lines of Italians, I've traced my family to Greece, France, Africa, Russia and Poland. I'm a child of the world. I believe more of us are than not. So what's the big deal about DNA? It is an actual, literal connection with all of your predecessors and successors going back to the beginning of human-kind.

More fact: Girls are born with fully loaded ovaries. Therefore, my child has always been a part of me. I have always been a part of my mother. She has always been a part of her mother and so on back to the beginning. We have always existed, even if just in a microscopic way on a physical level.

What about adopted families? When you're adopted it's not just into a circle of people you live with, it's also into a lineage. Ancestors are conferred upon you. If you are made part of a family, you are part of that entire family, the ones who went before as well as the ones who are your immediate family. My biological Grandfather passed when my Mother was still a child. My Grandmother remarried a few years later. For all intents and purposes, he was my Grandfather. He made my mother, and me, part of his family. I loved who he loved, I venerated who he venerated.

Is there a difference when invoking one or the other? Kind of. It's more a matter of technique and level of relationship. Something things cannot be explained, only experienced.

Have you ever used your own blood in your work? If not: What do you think the effect would be? If yes, how have you done so? Did it help your work?
 
Part 2 of this (maybe in March?) will look more at specific uses of blood, and I don't just mean animal sacrifice, I mean personal blood letting to bind, seal, or amp up spells.

Caught between the Scylla and Charybdis

Oh, Sting, they just don't write em like they used to.

I started to write my blog tonight and, after a long day, thought "I got nothin." But that's never true. If there's a day when I'm truly not up for writing, I'll post something from Ovid or The Aeneid. I was going in this direction tonight, when I realized that I wanted to talk about these two. Odysseus, in the travels chronicled in The Odyssey, found lost himself all over Magna Graecia, which of course included Sicily and other settlements in mainland Italy. The location of Scylla and Charybdis, has long thought to be Sicily's Strait of Messina. So who/what were Scylla and Charybdis?

Scylla was, according to The Odyssey, a land monster who stood high atop a cliff and would chomp on the crew of the ship as it sailed by. Some of her characteristics: 12 tentacles, a cat's tail, dog heads ringing her waist, 4 eyes, 6 heads... Can we pile anything else onto this thing?
Charybdis was a giant yawning whirlpool within an arrow's length from Scylla's post.
Monsters were often something perfectly wonderful before they became monsters. Sounds like marriage (rimshot!). This seems especially true of the female monsters we come across in the lore of Greece. I'd like to be knowledgeable enough about other pantheons and societies to make an actual comparison. I can't go saying Greece was more sexist than their counterparts, even tho they did take a perfectly lovely Women's Mystery and insert kidnapping into it, Dionysus, and have it run by a man. But I digress. Eleusis is for the summer.

As the various legends go, Scylla was a naiad (water nymph). Someone, either Posideon or  another sea divinity, Glaucus, fell in love with her. She evaded him by going up onto the land where he (whichever "he" it was) couldn't follow. Either Poseidon's wife Amphitrite poisoned her bath or Circe did after falling for Glaucus who asked Circe for a spell to win Scylla. Nice, huh? The poor girl was trying to avoid being pursued and look what she got for her troubles!

Charybdis, another naiad, was the daughter of Poseidon and Gaia. She would take land and villages and forests for her Father while in the form of a whirlpool. For her loyalty to her father, Uncle Zeus came along and turned her into a monster, lest she help Dad take over his territory.

I find it sadly fitting that these women, who came to be known as the first "rock and a hard place," found themselves in that very same situation.

But not to end on a down-note, here's a favorite poem by Ovid
(it only looks long. It's worth the read and delicious licentious!)

To his Mistress...
Your husband will be with us at the Treat;
May that be the last Supper he shall Eat.
And am poor I, a Guest invited there,
Only to see, while he may touch the Fair?

To see you Kiss and Hug your nauseous Lord,
While his lewd Hand descends below the Board?
Now wonder not that Hippodamia's Charms,
At such a sight, the Centaurs urged to Arms;
That in a rage they threw their Cups aside,
Assailed the Bridegroom, and would force the Bride.
I am not half a Horse (I would I were):
Yet hardly can from you my Hands forbear.
Take then my Counsel; which observed, may be
Of some Importance both to you and me.

Be sure to come before your Man be there;
There's nothing can be done; but come how e'er.
Sit next him (that belongs to Decency);
But tread upon my Foot in passing by.
Read in my Looks what silently they speak,
And slily, with your Eyes, your Answer make.
My Lifted Eyebrow shall declare my Pain;
My Right-Hand to his fellow shall complain;

And on the Back of a Letter shall design;
Besides a Note that shall be Writ in Wine.
When e'er you think upon our last Embrace,
With your Fore-finger gently touch your Face.
If you are pleased with what I do or say,
Handle your Rings, or with your Fingers play.
As Suppliants use at Altars, hold the Board,
When e'er you wish the Devil may take your Lord.

When he fills for you, never touch the Cup;
But bid th' officious Cuckold drink it up.
The Waiter on those Services employ.
Drink you, and I will snatch it from the Boy:
Watching the part where your sweet Mouth hath been,
And thence, with eager Lips, will suck it in.

If he, with Clownish Manners, thinks it fit
To taste, and offer you the nasty bit,
Reject his greasy Kindness, and restore
Th' unsavory Morsel he had chewed before.
Nor let his Arms embrace your Neck, nor rest
Your tender Cheek upon his hairy Breast.
Let not his Hand within your Bosom stray,
And rudely with your pretty Bubbies play.

But above all, let him no Kiss receive;
That's an Offence I never can forgive.
Do not, O do not that sweet Mouth resign,
Lest I rise up in Arms, and cry, 'Tis mine!
I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of Fear
The manifest Adult'rer will appear.
These things are plain to Sight; but more I doubt
What you conceal beneath your Petticoat.

Take not his Leg between your tender Thighs,
Nor, with your Hand, provoke my Foe to rise.
Which I, myself, have practised all before!
How oft have I been forced the Robe to lift
In Company to make a homely shift
For a bare Bout, ill huddled o'er in hast,
While o'er my side the Fair her Mantle cast.

You to your Husband shall not be so kind;
But, lest you should, your Mantle leave behind.
Encourage him to Tope; but Kiss him not,
Nor mix one drop of Water in his Pot.
If he be Fuddled well, and Snores apace
Then we may take Advice from Time and Place,
When all depart, when Complements are loud,
Be sure to mix among the thickest Crowd.
There I will be, and there we cannot miss,
Alas, what length of Labour I employ,
Just to secure a short and transient Joy!

For Night must part us; and when Night is come,
Tucked underneath his Arm he leads you Home.
He locks you in; I follow to the Door,
His Fortune envy, and my own deplore.
He kisses you, he more than kisses too;
Th' outrageous Cuckold thinks it all his due.

But, add not to his Joy, by your consent,
And let it not be given, but only lent.
Return no Kiss, nor move in any sort;
Make it a dull and a malignant Sport.

Had I my Wish, he should no Pleasure take,
But slubber o'er your Business for my sake.
And what e'er Fortune shall this Night befall,
Coax me to-morrow, by forswearing all.