Persephone Rediscovered

 

Persephone
©Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

Prelude

Radiant, horned, you alone are longed for by mortals.

You are of Spring, delighting in fragrant meadows.

Your sacred body appears to us in growing fruits and branches.

You alone are life and death to toiling mortals.

Persephone. You are forever the nourisher and the death bringer.

- Orphic Hymn to Persephone

 

There are, indeed, things that cannot be put into words. They make themselves manifest.
They are what is mystical.

- Ludwig Wittgenstein

 

 

I would like to consider myself a loyalist with regards to the Greek mythology and theology (mythotheology, in short), in the sense that, in the process of building my own mythotheological worldview, I remain loyal (as much as I can) to the original sources regarding the myths and the pantheon, not to their re-tellings or post-tellings. In fact, this has been a rewarding approach for me as long as I remember. For example, it helped me better understand the picture of the world as seen by the ancient minds of our ancestors.

 

In this post, which grew out of a letter I had written to a friend, I will share my refined outlook regarding Persephone—one of the most misunderstood and misrepresented goddesses in the Greek mythology communities nowadays. Fortunately, I do not think that this misrepresentation is the case among the practitioners of the Greek theology—the traditional Greek polytheism. Though, needless to say, every understanding is just a matter of perspective.

 

Let us keep in mind that at least in the case of Greek mythotheology, there is no such a thing as the canon—a one true narrative—and that is the beauty of it, in my humble opinion. Each deity is portrayed with rather different characteristics depending on the location of his/her cult. For example, at Brauron, the “virgin” aspect of Artemis was bold at the time, whereas at Ephesus, she was regarded as an all-nourishing Mother Goddess. 

 

Post-Archetypalism

 

 

The mind is still haunted with its old unconscious ways; it broods on lost authorities; and the yearning, the deep and hollowing yearning for divine volition and service is with us still.

 

- Julian Jaynes 

 

 

Behind every image is an emotion, behind every emotion is an archetype, behind every archetype is a deity.

 

- Michael Cornwall 

 

 

First, let me be clear about my approach towards mythotheology. It is a trivial fact that the existence of a myth about a deity, does not imply that the deity itself is mythical. In other words, when a myth includes a deity, it becomes a narrative about a certain entity whose existence cannot be denied. Myths are not just some stories after all, and most definitely, they are not just conscious inventions of an individual, or a group of people, for the sake of some personal (group) agenda.

 

I truly respect the phenomenological approach towards the spiritual experiences of human beings. Anything beyond that is just a belief, whether it is science or religion. Yes, Thomas Kuhn had a big influence on me. So in essence, we really do not know; to quote Emil du Bois-Reymond, ‘ignoramus.’ That is the reason I think we have always taken some sorts of “axiomatic” approaches, consciously or not, regarding the fundamental questions on the nature of Reality.

 

I tend to think that through evolution, i.e. the transformative feedback loop between organisms and their environment, we have lost some cognitive abilities, while gaining the new ones. So, some stuff that the ancient mind used to perceive in the past, would be imperceptible to our minds in the present time. Just as Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi told us in his first great insight [1]:

Once, men and women were able to turn themselves into eagles and fly immense distances. They communed with rivers and mountains and received wisdom from them. They felt the turning of the stars inside their own minds. My contemporaries did not understand this. They were all enamoured with the idea of progress and believed that whatever was new must be superior to what was old. As if merit was a function of chronology! But it seemed to me that the wisdom of the ancients could not have simply vanished. Nothing simply vanishes.

And Laurence Arne-Sayles (aka The Prophet) shares this view as well, as Piranesi recalls his beautiful elaboration:

The Ancients had a different way of relating to the world, that they experienced it as something that interacted with them. When they observed the world, the world observed them back. If, for example, they travelled in a boat on a river, then the river was in some way aware of carrying them on its back and had in fact agreed to it. When they looked up to the stars, the constellations were not simply patterns enabling them to organise what they saw, they were vehicles of meaning, a never-ending flow of information. The world was constantly speaking to Ancient Man.

The way the Ancients perceived the world was the way the world truly was. This gave them extraordinary influence and power. Reality was not only capable of taking part in a dialogue–intelligible and articulate–it was also persuadable. Nature was willing to bend to men’s desires, to lend them its attributes. Seas could be parted, men could turn into birds and fly away, or into foxes and hide in dark woods, castles could be made out of clouds. 

Eventually the Ancients ceased to speak and listen to the World. When this happened the World did not simply fall silent, it changed. Those aspects of the world that had been in constant communication with Men–whether you call them energies, powers, spirits, angels or demons–no longer had a place or a reason to stay and so they departed. There was, in Arne-Sayles’ view, an actual, real disenchantment.

Now that ‘real disenchantment,’ or the complete disassociation of human beings from their deities (in the span of a couple of millennia ago), was in part, due to the (Late) Bronze Age collapse. This mysterious phenomenon made an abrupt shift in our cognitive faculties, which was the consequence of adapting to the new complex circumstances that were emerging in our ancestors’ environment, such as the growth of population, changing the food (re)sources, etc.

That is why, not very long after the collapse, we see a strange sudden emergence of monotheism (and ditheism in a few cases) in most of the affected regions. Deities became some abstract concepts, taking home in the labyrinthine structure of the evolving language, and all the gods and the goddesses were replaced by “The One True God.” Before that, people used to see and hear their deities and feel their presence in their everyday lives. Our ancestors’ lives were instructed by their gods and goddesses whom they were in charge of the decision making processes. As Homer recalls in the Odyssey [Hom. Od. 3. 25 ff]:

The grey-eyed Athene answered:
Telemakhos, some thoughts will be given to you by your own intellect,

And some will be given to you by a divine power; for I am assured that

the gods and the goddesses have been with you from the time of your birth until now.

The Ancient mind was bicameral; a command was given by a deity and the corresponding action was taken by the person immediately. This is a tiny glimpse of Julian Jaynes’ ingenious theory on the origin of consciousness [2]. The bicameral mentality only described the world externally, since there was no such a thing as the mind-space and the internal monologue.

That is why we feel now like an audience to whom the mythical play of mortals and immortals are being narrated. The ‘I’ within, grew out of the evolving human language and its metaphors, which brought upon us the silence of the gods. Hence, searching for an objective universal answer to the question of ‘Whether the deities are real?’ is indeed futile. If I have learned one thing in my whole scientific and philosophical journeys in this regard, it would be that we honestly do not know even if there exists a dividing line between “reality” and “unreality.”

There is another important thing, now about history, that I always consider in my analyses: the incommensurability of historical periods and different cultures. To put it simply, we cannot analyze the past through the lens of our nowadays morals and societal norms, and most definitely, we cannot take the route of what people call “rationality” either.

The only thing we can do when dealing with ancient cultures and their myths, is to try to understand them on their own terms, and listening to what they are trying to say. Anything beyond that would be a naive holier-than-thou gesture, blinding us from seeing the obvious facts. Myths are more than just some popcorn tell-tales. For our ancestors, myths aimed to inspire and warn, conveying the ancient wisdom of life. With Psychoanalysis at our disposal, some myths can teach us a thing or two about our collective inner and outer journeys as well, if we leave our judgments at the door. But we need to keep in mind that the Psychoanalytical approach towards myths is very limited and often inapplicable. Archetype in Psychology is the “spherical cow” in Physics, after all :)

Let's not forget that Dionysos was always present in Jung's own life as his patron god (and not as an archetype), starting from a childhood dream he had about him. However, this point about the dream was only revealed after his death [3]. Hence, the lesson here is: do not confuse ἐπιστήμη with ὄντος. So, buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, 'cause archtypalism is going bye-bye!

 

Wise Persephone 

 

The investigation of the meaning of words is the beginning of wisdom. 

- Antisthenes

 

With that aforementioned approach in mind, let us now see Persephone, Queen of the Earth, in a new light. But before that, we first need to talk a bit about Hades (ᾍδης), or Aidis (Ἅιδης), or in its poetic form, Aidoneus (Ἀϊδωνεύς). It is believed that his original name was Plouton (Πλούτων)—the wealthy one—probably due to the fact that the source of the harvest wealth was the Earth, beneath which the seeds were contained. The most common meaning of the name Aidis which people use is ‘unseen,’ or ‘invisible.’ But I would like to mention another possibility for its meaning which I have learned from our beloved Socrates. This is the meaning which directly relates to Persephone in an interesting and beautiful way.

First, I should note that Aidis is the King of the Earth, and consequently, the god of the mortals, whose souls are going to go to the “unseen world.” They can never leave that place once they die. Now the only unseen realm for the ancients was beneath the Earth (which in fact belongs to Earth in the mythological terms), so he is called the ‘Lord of those below.’ But let me remind you that the term “underworld gods” (e.g. Aidis, Persephone, the Erinyes, etc) that people use nowadays, is a bit misleading, since the original Greek expression is khthonioi theoi (χθόνιοι θεοί), and khthon (χθών) actually refers to Earth, specially its surface. One of the correct terms for the underworld (or under the Earth) would be hypokhthonios (ὑποχθόνιος). Hence, all of these deities are in fact, the Earth deities. Although, that does not exclude their dominion, or domain, over the underworld at all. For example, in the aforecited Orphic hymn to Persephone, she is called the Subterranean Queen (καταχθονίων βασίλεια).

With that being said, in Platon’s Kratylos, Socrates offers us a beautiful interpretation of Aidis’ name and his power. He says that Aidis bounds those souls not by compulsion, but with desire, which is the only bond that can make anyone keep staying in one place. And he says that the strongest of the desires is the “thought of being made a better person by association with someone,” and that is why no soul has ever wanted to come back from the unseen world. Aidis is an ideal philosopher, he says, “a perfect sophist and a great benefactor of those in his realm,” whose words are awe-strikingly beautiful and immensely enchanting. Aidis is interested in souls, because the soul is the “pure of all the evils and desires of the body,” filled with the desire of virtue. That is why Socrates says, Aidis’ name is derived from eidenai (εἰδέναι), which means knowing. 

This fact is utterly important, because it sheds a new light on Persephone. First, it is argued that her name was actually Pherrephatta (Φερρεφαττα), which then it changed to other forms, and finally became Persephone (Περσεφονη). Interestingly, one of her possible names indicates that she is wise, because according to Socrates:

Since things are in motion (φερόμενα), that which grasps (ἐφαπτόμενον) and touches (ἐπαφῶν) and is able to follow them is wisdom. Pherepapha (Φερέπαφα), or something of that sort, would therefore be the correct name of the goddess, because she is wise and touches that which is in motion (ἐπαφὴ τοῦ φερομένου)—and this is the reason why Aidis, who is wise, consorts with her, because she is wise—but people have altered her name, attaching more importance to euphony than to truth, and they call her Pherrephatta.

It is very interesting to note that in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter—the primary source of the Persephone’s “abduction myth”—when Persephone is with Aidis, she is addressed with the epithets, daiphroni (δαΐφρονι) and periphron (περίφρων), both of which mean wise. Another one of her epithets is daeira (Δάειρα), which means the knowing one.

Also, she is only called Persephone by Aidis—or whenever she is in his realm, in general—and when a khthonic and/or a liminal deity, such as Hekate and Hermes, addresses her. Otherwise, she is called Kore (κόρη) which means daughter, specially with regards to her mother Demeter (Δημήτηρ).

I would say, without a doubt, that I am truly happy that I discovered this wise aspect of Persephone. Lots of things for me now fall into place!

Finally, to go off a bit on a tangent, I would say that not only Platon and Socrates are master philosophers, they both indeed are master mythotheologians as well. When we read Platon, we find in many places that Socrates prays to the deities, invokes the Muses and even tries to pour a libation from his poison cup just before death! Even Republic—his “most Platonic work,” in the sense of representing a more coherent picture of his ideas—opens with the following monologue by Socrates:

I went down yesterday to the Peiraeus with Glaucon, the son of Ariston, to pay my devotions to the Goddess.

As far as I know, I never found Platon preaching about “The One True God,” not even in his Laws, in which Socrates is absent. If one thing Platon ever did regarding the deities, was to debunk the attributed “sketchy” myths via his beautiful arguments. 

I think the “monotheism” confusion that people might encounter while reading his works, stems from the usage of the word theos (θεὸς), but we need to remember that among the classical philosophers, and most definitely in the archaic period in general (for example in the Iliad), theos had nothing to do with a monotheistic “The God,” which can be easily seen in the context of its usage in the texts.

For example, theos in Laws is Zeus (in Crete), or Apollon (in Lacedaemon), who is regarded as the lawgiver. In Apology, theos is Apollon whom he has dictated Socrates’ mission, “through oracles and dreams and in every way in which any man was ever commanded by divine power to do anything whatsoever,” as Socrates reminds us.

 

Death and Marriage

 

A soft light rising above the level meadow, 

behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. 

He wants to say “I love you, nothing can hurt you,”

but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end 

“you’re dead, nothing can hurt you” 

which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true. 

 

- Louise Glück, A Myth of Devotion

 

Let me now talk a bit about my understanding of the motifs of the Persephone’s abduction myth. In Pschoanalysis, it can be seen as a story about the evolution of a feminine archetype's representation, which itself belongs to the recurring theme of the dying-and-rising deity. For the masculine version of this theme, we have Dionysos (Διόνυσος), whose rebirth was celebrated in the festivals at the end of Winter, just like they held festivals for the Persephone’s return at the arrival of Spring. Let’s not forget that Persephone was regarded as a fertility goddess, due to this Spring aspect of hers.

 

However, the abduction part could be interpreted through the lens of the marriage as well. For example, in the simplest reading, it could be a cautionary tale for mothers to make sure that their daughters have gone through the necessary rite of passage before wedding, and for fathers to consult with their wives when it comes to their daughters’ marriage.

 

But for me, the more obvious element of the myth is the untimely death of a beloved young daughter before wedding, and her mother’s bereavement. Part of this theme was reflected in the Louise Glück’s aforecited poem [4]. This motif becomes more apparent when we see that Demeter in her grieving time is addressed many times, specially by the deities, as the dark-veiled/robed mother (μητέρα κυανόπεπλον); a mother in her funerary dark veil. But in the end, after she is promised by Zeus (Persephone’s father who had given the permission to Aidis to marry her) with the return of Persephone, she is never addressed in that manner again. It is worth noting that back in the ancient times, the girls who died unmarried were called the ‘brides of Aidis.’ Similarities between marriage and funeral among ancient Greeks is also striking. As Richard Seaford tells us that [5]:

The abrupt passage of the bride to her new life contains both negative and positive elements. On the one hand it is like the yoking of an animal or the plucking of a flower. It means isolation, separation from her friends and parents. It is an occasion of resentment and anxiety, comparable to death.

 

In both wedding and funeral, the girl is washed, anointed, and given special πέπλοι (robe, gown) and a special στέφανος (crown) in order to be conveyed on an irreversible, torchlit journey (on a cart), accompanied by song, and to be abandoned by her kin to an unknown dwelling, an alien bed, and the physical control of an unknown male. The unmarried girl is buried in her wedding attire; she is imagined as a bride taken off by Aidis.

And we all surely know of a mother’s grief after her daughter’s departure. Marriage was an intense experience for both, specially, by considering the fact that in the past, girls used to marry at a very young age, and they had no say in the matter of choosing their husbands. However, it is interesting to note that in various ancient cultures (and even in some remote ones today), the so-called “abduction” (or to be precise, carrying away) of a bride was a symbolic element in the wedding ceremonies. A bride was ‘lifted’ by the groom on a horse or a chariot, and together they departed to their new home. In the present day wedding ceremonies, the chariots of yesterday, are now the cars of today, by which the grooms carry away their brides. The myth of Persephone's abduction is not about who is weak and who is powerful; it is about how a deity experiences grief, and in turn, how a mortal mother experiences grief, and how this bereavement can be alleviated. It is about a response to a sudden transition to an unknown state, both for daughter (Kore) and mother (Demeter).

 

However, one might ask that unlike deities, a dead mortal cannot come back to life. So what is there for us to learn in Persephone’s resurrection myth? Well, obviously, we cannot turn every myth into a psychological lesson for the modern human beings. Not every myth is a representation of an archetype.

 

So is that it? Well, yes and no. The societal norm for young girls back then was to become brides, and for young boys was to become warriors, in order to serve their community. There were special rites of passage for boys and girls to undergo, in order to become ready for their new roles. In each of these rites, the most important stage for an initiate was to experience a symbolic death of their former identities, so that they could be born again into their new societal roles. A kore had to die in order to become a ‘woman’ and ephebe had to die in order to become a ‘man.’ So, the resurrection of Persephone in this context, is nothing but becoming a woman through the death of maidenhood. 

 

Now as I mentioned before, it is utmost important to know to which cult a particular myth of a deity does belong. This becomes more significant when the ancient Greek Mysteries get involve with the myths, because of their strict ‘Fight-Clubian’ rules on not to reveal anything to the uninitiated.

 

So we might have had lots of myths about Persephone that could have helped us understand her better, if she was not involved with the Eleusinian Mysteries. However, we have the abduction myth of Persephone according to her Locrian cult, in which she never returns to her mother, and she accepts her eternal role as the Khthonic Queen. In fact, contrary to the Eleusinian Mysteries, there is no trace of Demeter in that myth [6]. In her Locrian cult, Persephone was the divine bride and protectress of marriage and weddings. Young girls before marriage, used to dedicate the goddess special offerings, in order to obtain her blessing and protection in their soon-to-begin marital lives [7].

 

With all of that in mind, it is clear now that whenever someone is talking about Persephone, we should immediately ask that, which Persephone that person is talking about?

 

 

Persephone lifting the lid of the basket to reveal the Child
© Dan Diffendale

 

References

1. Susanna Clarke.  “Piranesi.” Bloomsbury Publishing (2020).
   
2. Julian Jaynes. “The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.” Mariner Books (1976). 
3. Michael Cornwall. “Jung’s First Dream, The Mad God Dionysus and a Madness Sanctuary called Diabasis” (2012). 
4. Louise Glück, A Myth of Devotion 
5. Richard Seaford. “The Tragic Wedding.” The Journal of Hellenic Studies 107 (1987): 106–30.
6. Hanne Eisenfeld. “Life, Death, and a Lokrian Goddess,” Kernos, 29 | 2016, 41-72.
7. Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood. “Persephone and Aphrodite at Locri: A Model for Personality Definitions in Greek Religion.” The Journal of Hellenic Studies 98 (1978): 101–21.