Oranda
Davis
LIT
438
Throughout history the status of sacred and secular
literatures has constantly fluctuated.
The older sacred myths become secular as they are replaced by the new
with the passing of time and the shifting of cultural values. Traits belonging to the ancient gods are
projected onto the new as the older stories are absorbed into, and then
subsumed by the contemporary. What once
was considered to be sacred scripture becomes popular folklore, the mythology
of savages who have been conquered by a more enlightened civilization: but to
banish the old ways completely would be a spectacular, if not impossible
feat. The proof of this statement exists
in the fact that folktales and ancient mythologies of long dead civilizations
are not only still studied by scholars, but are also relatively well-known and
loved by the general populations of the world today. The stories, both sacred and secular, are
retold in contemporary novels as well as movies and song lyrics. They are intimately entwined by several
thematic threads pulled from that great abyss which is the human psyche. This paper will focus on the topic of
rejuvenation, a literary motif which promotes the balance of masculine and
feminine symbology in secular literature, but is manipulated to disrupt this
equilibrium in sacred Biblical scripture.
In The Secular
Scripture Northrop Frye describes the key distinctions between the two most
commonly operative categories of creation myths:
“If we look
down, we see the cycle of animal and plant life, and creation myths suggested
by this would most naturally be sexual ones, focusing eventually on some kind
of earth-mother, the womb and tomb of all living things. If we look up, we see, not different forms of
life emerging, but the same sun rising in the east. The cycle of the same, in Plato’s phrase,
suggests rather an artificial creation myth, a world made, not born, and made
by a conscious and planning intelligence.
Such a myth tends to be associated with a sky-father, who goes about his
mysterious business without nursing his children” (112).
For whatever reason our
culture has come to be dominated by a sky-father religion, and thus its
monotheistic creation myth of artificial design has enjoyed a status of
sacrosanct prestige for thousands of years; but echoes of a more ancient
symbology resonant from beneath the foliage of God’s perfect garden. Representations of rejuvenation and feminine
power can be found lurking in the patriarchal atrium from which Adam and Eve
are said to have fallen. The archetype
of the garden itself is almost certainly an exclusively feminine symbol, for it
is merely a smaller version of the ubiquitous representation of earth as
maternal. The theme of rejuvenation is
intrinsically contained within the feminine symbology of the garden archetype
because a garden’s inherent purpose is to bear fruit for harvest within a
naturally occurring cycle of rebirth. Of
course a garden cannot fertilize itself, just as women cannot bring forth life
without men. Just as this is common
knowledge today, it was also common knowledge to our ancient ancestors; it is
also the threshold where the banal crosses into the sacred, for the vulgar act
of sexual intercourse is also the wellspring from which the human life cycle
commences. The masculine, the feminine,
and their combined power to create new life are the cornerstones of the
trifecta which symbolizes the great and holy mystery of life on Earth. The essence of the masculine should not
dominate over the feminine, nor should the feminine overshadow the masculine;
the perfect equilibrium of the two forces is what creates the indelible experience
that is the mystery of life, for one cannot exist without the other.
However, to assume that the feminine garden’s counterpart
of the Biblical creation myth is God himself would be remiss; rather, the
masculine component is more aptly represented by the briefly mentioned image of
a mist which comes naturally from the earth before God creates rain: “…for the Lord God had not caused it to rain
upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground. But there went up a mist from the earth, and
watered the whole face of the ground” (Genesis 2:6). The implications here are that the more novel
concept of an artificial creation myth has been superimposed over an older
sexual creation myth which was probably more proportionate in its original
symbology. The mist in the garden seems
almost arbitrary to the story, as its masculine imagery has been replaced first
by God, and later by Adam. The feminine
symbology of the garden is replaced by Eve, who is artificially made out of
Adam’s rib; and with this calculated stroke of an unnatural image of man giving
birth, the harmonious equilibrium of masculine and feminine that represents the
sacred symbology of everyday life is usurped by God, divine dictator that He
is. The masculine is effectively stripped
of its capacity to fertilize, while the feminine is denied its inherent ability
to bring forth new life. To quote
Heinrich Zimmer: “Really a grotesque old
myth!” (Footnote 259). The natural
cycles of rejuvenation and renewal are replaced by synthetic stagnation, which
discourages not only spontaneous creativity, but also suppresses self-revelation.
However, Biblical indoctrination is subverted when we
look beyond its stories of seemingly sacred truth, and notice that it shares
symbology with secular literatures. The masculine symbol of a fountain can be
found in the old romances of Arthurian lore, notably in Zimmer’s retelling of Owain’s
battle with the Black Knight. Owain was
not the first of the host of The Round Table to encounter this powerful warrior
and his dream-like realm which lies beyond a beautiful tree and mysterious
fountain. Acting upon stories of past
adventures related to him by his older brethren, Owain seeks out the fountain
beneath the tree of life and commences the bizarre ritual of casting a bowl of
water upon a marble slab which stands beside the fountain. This act produces a great storm which strips
the tree of its foliage, but is then followed by a multitude of birds landing
upon the bare branches and singing a glorious melody. The consequence of this deed is an ensuing
battle with a fearsome knight clad all in black, who appears to avenge the
destruction of his kingdom wrought by Owain’s reckless act of ignorance. The Black Knight is dealt a mortal wound by
Owain and flees to his kingdom with Owain following close behind. Upon the death of the Black Knight, Owain
takes his place: “For thus, apparently,
was the law that prevailed at the Castle of the Fountain: whosoever slew the guardian became himself the
guardian, the Black Knight, the lord and consort of the Lady of the Fountain”
(Zimmer 104). The story is far more
complicated than what is related here, but the central theme of masculine
rejuvenation is powerfully conveyed through the imagery of the fountain and the
eternal renewal of a male protectorate for the tree of life and the kingdom
over which it presides.
Themes of feminine rejuvenation from this literary era
are more well-known to our popular culture today, the most prevalent of which
is the female trinity of the maiden, the mother, and the crone. Indeed, this trifecta seems to be the driving
force of the renewed interest in earth-mother deities today. Like the phases of the feminine moon, this
motif represents the sacred life cycle of women and the distinctive powers
contained within each stage: the young
maiden with her unique potential to bear new life; the matronly mother who
nurtures her offspring, and the wisdom of the crone who passes her life-learned
secrets on to the next generation of life-givers. The story of Gawain’s marriage to the ugly
hag, Dame Ragnell, is as inherently subtle in its conveyance of feminine
mystique as the power of femininity itself.
For it is a lesson to men that the real beauty of women lays not in
their physical countenance, but in their fathomless capacity to guide, love,
and nurture throughout the joys and hardships that inevitably come with this
life on Earth. Gawain is not rewarded
for blind loyalty to Arthur, but for his commitment to his wife in his promise
of the preservation of her autonomy as woman.
In the story Ragnell tells Arthur, “There is one thing in all our
fantasy, and that now shall ye know: We
desire of men, above all manner of thing, to have the sovereignty” (Zimmer
91). This should not be misread to mean
that women desire dominance over men, rather it is the desire of women not to
be subjugated by men. Ragnell’s
transformation from ugly hag to beautiful maiden comes when Gawain gives her
the freedom to choose her own destiny in their marriage, rather than deciding
it for her. The end of this story is the
beginning of their life’s romance together as an equal partnership, thus
preserving the sacred trinity of masculine, feminine, and renewal of life. In our modern times the Bible’s
patriarchal disposition is becoming ever more disenchanting as contemporary
popular belief systems are beginning to reject its sanctions as exclusive,
archaic, and oppressive rather than sacred.
The motif of rejuvenation, that unending cycle of death and new life can
be found not only in stories of popular pagan lore, but also hidden deep
beneath the preponderance of patriarchal Biblical Scripture which has upset the
natural balance of human existence on Earth.
The Bible’s authoritative sway on the mysteries of life and death are
beginning to wane, as many people have begun to look deeper, beyond the pages
of a scripture which preaches a static place, available only to an exclusive
few, in a kingdom so far beyond the realm of human experience that the truth of
its existence rings false to earthly ears.
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