Cultural Mythology: Myth, culture, and consciousness

Thank you Diane Wolkstein

Diane Wolkstein died last month. An accomplished storyteller with a gift for poetry, Wolkstein collaborated with Samuel Noah Kramer to produce a translation of the Sumerian myths of Inanna that is deservedly the standard.

Diane discovered the power of stories as a young woman and devoted her life to sharing them. Her deep belief in the relevance of mythology, and her willingness to immerse herself in surviving story telling cultures and learn from traditonal and indigienous tellers, has been a source of inspiration for me. I love good story telling of all sorts. But in the context of our solipsistic "look-at-me" culture, I especially appreciate tellers who use the myths and tales from the canon of our collective past, to connect us to our shared humanity and reinforce the truth of our shared future.

I had hoped to see her performance of the Chinese epic, Monkey King: Journey to the West. Perhaps someone will make a video recording available. If anyone knows of one, please tell me!

For more information about Diane visit dianewolkstein.com (which is also the source for the image of Wolkstein preforming the Monkey King). Thank you Diane Wolkenstein, for your exuberance and insight.

Hymns of praise

There is no such thing as final completion when the subject is the dynamic cycles of nature. This reminds me of the story of the old woman who weaves the world, and her black dog and the loose thread the dog pulls to unravel the garment, to keep the weaving (and the world) going. (See my post of January 6, 2009  for this story). So by way of an (in)conclusion here are the final words in the praise poems found in Inanna; Queen of Heaven and Earth, a beautiful text that serves as inspiration and source for my version of the myth translated by Samuel Noah Kramer and Diane Wolkstein.

My lady looks in sweet wonder from heaven.

The people of Sumer parade before the holy Inanna.

The Lady Who Ascends into the Heavens, Inanna, is radiant.

Mighty, majestic, radiant, and ever youthful---

To you, Inanna, I sing!

Cycles of nature

In my last post I talked about the truth of Ereshkrigal, the fact that life and death are intertwined and death supports life in a dynamic round. We experience this as part of the natural world. It's true for us and it's true for the birds, bees, bulls, and blow fish. So the myth of Inanna and Dumuzi can also be read as a description of the rhythmic cycles of nature. The characters in the myth; the Bull of Heaven, Ereshkigal, Inanna, Dumuzi, and Geshtinanna, participate in a round robin of sacrifice, death, and rebirth that parallels the cycles of seed and harvest, growth, reproduction, death, and decay that are the fate of all living things. There is no escape from this round but there is perpetual renewal.

When we see ourselves in nature, as part of nature's round, a myth like Inanna and Dumuzi's teaches us about how the world works and about how we work. The fate of the world is our own.

In these so-called "nature" myths, myths that describe the cycles of the vegetable world for example, an important image is the sacred marriage, the union of male and female. The courtship and marriage of Inanna and Dumuzi speaks to the relationship between the eternal and the mortal, between man and woman, between husband and wife, and between the earth and the seed. In each of these relationships there are periods of outwardly flowering productivity and dormancy. I know this seems obvious but look at how much time and energy and technology is developed and employed to keep ourselves and the earth in a state of ceaseless productivity. Or how our expectations are conditioned to accept only the up, light, and cheery sides of life and each other. It's unnatural.

The myth of Inanna's descent and the subsequent cyclical descent of Dumuzi and his sister Geshtinanna tell a tale about initiation into the mysteries of life and death via the feminine principle. This initiation has parallels in the Greek myth of Demeter and her daughter Persephone, which can also be read as a nature myth. Persephone is abducted and taken to the Underworld and Demeter, the grieving mother, refuses to keep the vegetable world above ground alive. Demeter lets the grain die and the fruits wither. This gets the attention of the Zeus. When mother and daughter are finally reunited, it is only for part of each year. While she was below, Persephone ate six pomegranate seeds. As a result, she must spend half of the year in the underworld, where she becomes queen. So we have six green months and six brown months in every year.

The myth of Demeter and Persephone was the basis for the Eylusian mysteries, a powerful, secret rite that relieved participants of their fear of death. No one knows for sure what comprised the rites or how this was accomplished, the secrets were that closely held. But knowing these myths provides us with a clue. We fear the seemingly dark depths of the unknown, the possible pain, and the loss of individuality and individual consciousness. But death can be understood as a homecoming. As part of nature we emerge from it, and return to it. We achieve immortality by virtue of this recycling. We each have a place in the natural, cosmic scheme.

Can't say that about taxes. Thanks for reading. The painting is "Demeter" by Jean-Francois Millet.

Holy Ereshkrigal? Holy moly...

When I read the myths of Inanna and Dumuzi I was surprised by the praise song to Ereshkrigal at the end. So are the people to whom I've told this story. By the time Inanna tells Dumuzi that he can split his underworld time with his sister Geshtinanna, we've forgotten all about the moaning and groaning Ereshkrigal with her eye of death. But experience of the underworld and the mystery of death is the thread that runs through the exploits and sufferings, the escapes, the dreams, and the grief, of all the players in this drama.

Myths and stories can be read as metaphors for psychological development and experience. But myths often describe the outer world as well as the inner realms; they speak about the human in the world, as well as the world within the human. Actual trees and rocks and storms and walls and chairs and traffic jams are the raw material of our perception and the inspiration for our thoughts. We have metaphors for psychological death because we do in fact die a physical death. Joseph Campbell said the primary task of any mythology was reconciling people to death, and the fact that life and death are inextricably bound up together. Life feeds on life.

We don't always know with certainty how ancient myths were used by the people who told them, what they believed, what they took as fact or metaphor. Modern science makes it difficult if not impossible for many of us to literally believe in parts of this story, the part where Dumuzi was turned into a snake for example, or a gazelle. There we look for what the images suggest to us, the idea that a snake symbolizes rebirth through the shedding of its skin, or the speed of the galla, who could even outrun a gazelle. But one truth in this old myth that science and technology cannot change, that unites us with the Sumerians who lived 5,000 years ago or more, is the truth of Ereshkrigal. What is underneath supports and nourishes what is above, life depends upon death.

The two reeds

A lament went up over the land. Word of Dumuzi's fate spread from city to city, from town to town, and the people grieved for their king. Among them was the goddess Inanna. Inanna was distraught at the loss of her husband. She missed him terribly and wept bitterly. "Gone is my husband,"  she cried, "Gone is my sweet love, my honey man, my beloved. The wild bull is no more. He has been taken away before I could wrap him in a proper shroud. I can no longer serve him food and drink, I can no longer lie down beside him. The jackal lies down in his bed."

Sirtur, Dumuzi's mother, was also distraught. She went to the steppes, to the grasslands where he used to wander, playing his reed pipe and tending his flocks. "Oh my son," she said, "how I would love to hear your voice, how I long to hear your songs. Now there is only the wind in the reeds." Sirtur went weeping to the sheepfold, the place where Dumuzi was captured by the galla. She looked at the slain wild bull and stroked his face. "My son," she said, "the face is yours, but the spirit is gone."

The goddess Inanna met Geshtinanna in the streets of Uruk. The sister was crying out in grief. "Where is my brother? I would comfort him. Where is Dumuzi? I would go to him. I would share his fate. My brother, the day that dawns for you will also dawn for me." Inanna was moved by Geshtinanna's deep feelings. She wrapped her arms around the sister and said, "Geshtinanna, your brother is dead, his house is no more. I would take you to him if I could, but I do not know the place."

Then a fly appeared. It buzzed around the two women. It flew close to Inanna's ear. "What will you give me," said the fly, "if I tell you where you can find Dumuzi?"

Inanna said, "Fly, if you will tell me where to find Dumuzi, I will let you buzz around the beer halls and taverns, I will let you frequent the temples, and you will hear the words of all the wise ones."

The fly told Inanna and Geshtinanna to go back to Arali on the edge of the steppe, the place where Dumuzi first hid from the galla. The two women went. There they found Dumuzi, weeping. Inanna took her husband by the hand. She said, "You have been chosen for the underworld, but you will only go for half of the year. Geshtinanna will go for the other half, as she has pledged to share your fate. On the day that you are called, you will be taken. On the day that she is called, you will be set free."

Then Inanna placed Dumuzi into the hands of the eternal.

Praise be to holy Ereshkigal, through whom everything is realized!

(Thanks again to Diane Wolkenstien and Samuel Noah Kramer for the lovely book, Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth which is my source material for this and other postings of Inanna's mythology).

Scorpions and Rosette c.3300 B.C. Mesopotamia. The eight-pointed star, a symbol of Inanna, between the pincers of two scorpions. This image and others I have posted are available through the anthropology dept at SUNY Buffalo.

Why did Inanna sacrifice Dumuzi?

Dumuzi's demons caught up with him and he was taken to Ereshkigal in the Underworld. Being mortal, Dumuzi would have made the trip sooner or later. But he was hunted, captured, killed, and dragged away at the prime of his life because Inanna chose him to be her replacement. Why did she do that?

One of the great things about this story (and myths in general) is that it can be read many ways. There's no one "right" answer. We're told that Dumuzi didn't greet Inanna when she returned or even seem to know what had happened to her. We're also told that Inanna decided to make her descent to visit Ereshkigal at a time when Dumuzi was busy with his new powers of kingship. Their honeymoon was over. So did she sentence her husband to the Underworld in a fit of pique? The goddess is passionate, impulsive, and proud. But I don't think that Inanna's only motivation was a desire to punish Dumuzi for neglect. He was her husband, she raised him up and he was her match. They were a pair, male and female. Who but Dumuzi could take Inanna's place?

There is one more installment of the story to tell so we don't know yet how it will end. But if we imagine that Inanna has been powerfully transformed by her visit to Ereshkigal then we can also imagine that there is a gift in this suffering for Dumuzi as well. The demons that caught him were his demons, suggesting that this was his fate. And there are intriguing similarities with Inanna's descent, chiefly the stripping away of his me, Dumuzi's trappings of above world power and identity. In the place of Ninshubur, whose special powers were essential to Inanna's resurrection, we have perhaps, Geshtinanna.

When Inanna and the galla found Dumuzi under the apple tree, sitting on his throne, she "fixed him with the eye of death." She played the same role for her husband that her dark sister, Ereshkigal, goddess of the Underworld, performed for her.

Stay tuned.

The image above is a Door to the Underworld 2000-1600 B.C. Isin-Larsa-Old Babylonian period. Mesopotamia

Dumuzi's capture

Utu, the God of Justice and brother-in-law of Dumuzi, changed Dumuzi's hands and feet into the hands and feet of a gazelle so that the shepherd-king could escape the galla. Dumuzi fled to the city of Kubiresh, but the galla followed him there.

Next Dumuzi decided to go to the house of the old woman called Belili, to hide and get something to eat and drink. When he got to Old Belili he said, "I am no ordinary mortal. I am Dumuzi, husband of Inanna. Please pour out some water for me to drink and sprinkle some flour for me to eat." 

Old Belili did this him. Then she looked out of the window and saw what looked like trouble. A dark cloud, a flapping flurry of demons was heading toward her house. She slipped out of the back door. The galla saw her leave, and they entered.

Dumuzi escaped the house and ran. He ran to his sister Geshtinanna's sheepfold and crouched among the animals. But the galla were hot on his trail and they found him there. Geshtinanna came out of her house and when she saw Dumuzi and the galla she began to weep and tear at her hair and clothing. Her brother's terrible dream was coming true. The first galla scratched Dumuzi on the cheek. The second galla pierced his other cheek. The third galla knocked Dumuzi's cup from the peg. The fourth galla broke the bottom of his churn. The fifth galla broke his shepherd crook in two. The sixth galla smashed his cup. The seventh galla said "Rise Dumuzi, husband of Inanna, son of Sirtur, brother of Geshtinanna. Your days here are finished, the race is over. Take off your holy crown, remove your robe, the robe of kingship, and let your sceptre fall. You're coming with us."

Geshtinanna's goats dragged their beards in the dust. There was no sound but that of the wind and Geshtinanna's weeping. Dumuzi was gone.

     "Man Dying," cylinder seal, 9th century Mesopotamia

(This piece of the story and the others I have posted are all paraphrased from the excellent book, Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth by Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Noah Kramer).

Geshtinanna interprets the dream

Geshtinanna came to her brother Dumuzi. He said, “A dream my sister, I must tell you my dream. Rushes grow thick about me. A single reed trembles alone. A double growing reed bends in the wind, first one is removed and then the other.

Water is poured on my hearth. My churn is broken. My cup falls from its peg. My shepherd crook disappears. An eagle catches a lamb. A falcon catches a sparrow.

My sister, your goats drag their lapis beards in the dirt. No milk is poured, the cup lies shattered, the sheepfold is given to the winds.”

Geshtinanna said “My brother, don’t tell me such a dream. Dumuzi, I don’t want to hear this dream. The rushes that grow about you are the galla who will surround you. The single reed is our mother, who grieves for you. The double reed is you and me, for we will share the same fate. You are the lamb Dumuzi, and the sparrow. You will die and your house will be no more.”

When Geshtinanna finished speaking, Dumuzi heard a sound. “Quick sister, “ he cried, “Run up to the top of that hill, quickly, quickly, and tell me who is coming.” Geshtinanna and a friend of Dumuzi’s ran up to the top of the hill. They saw the galla. The friend cried back to Dumuzi, “It’s the galla, the big galla and the small galla, with thongs to bind you.”

They ran back down the hill. Geshtinanna was frantic for her brother’s safety and told him to hide. Dumuzi said, “I will hide in the low plants. I’ll hide in the tall grass. I’ll hide in the ditches in Arali, on the edge of the steppe. Don’t tell anyone.” Geshtinanna and the friend swore secrecy. “May your black dogs, your black sheepherding dogs, tear us to bits if we betray you.” They all ran away in separate directions.

Now the galla reach the crest of the hill. They look out on the grasslands and see no one. Where shall they look? The small galla say to the large galla, “Dumuzi must be very uneasy, he must be afraid. A man in that state of mind will not be at a friend’s house. He will not be with his mother. Let’s look for Dumuzi at his sister Geshtinanna’s house.”

The galla come to Geshtinanna and ask her where they can find Dumuzi. She will not speak. They offer her the water gift but she remains silent. They offer her the grain gift but she makes no sound. The galla threaten Geshtinanna. They press up close to her; they make ugly noises. But she is silent. The galla torture her. They pour pitch into her vulva. But Geshtinanna refuses to make a sound.

At last the small galla say to the large galla, “Forget it. Who ever heard of a sister revealing her brother’s hiding place. Let’s go to see Dumuzi’s friend.”

The galla come to the house of Dumuzi’s friend. They offer him the water gift and he accepts it. They offer him the grain gift and he accepts that too. They ask him where they can find Dumuzi and he tells them, “Dumuzi hid among the low plants.”  The galla look but they don’t find Dumuzi. They return to the friend. “You need to tell us more,” they say. The friend replies, “Dumuzi is among the tall grasses.” The galla search among the tall grasses but they still don’t find Dumuzi.

The demons go back once again to the friend. “Okay,” he says, “Dumuzi might be in the ditches in Arali…” The galla go to that place and find Dumuzi. When the galla grab him, Dumuzi curses his friend (some friend) and fights with all of his might. He prays once more to Utu, the god of justice.

“Utu,” Dumuzi cries, “I am your brother-in-law. I brought gifts to your house and treated your mother as if she were my own. I am the husband of your sister, I danced on the holy knees, the holy knees of Inanna. Please turn my hands into gazelle hands. Turn my feet into gazelle feet so I can get away.”

Utu grants Dumuzi’s prayers. The shepherd king Dumuzi escapes from his demons once again…

See you tomorrow.

Prelude to "Dumuzi's Dream"

As promised, here is the final chapter of the Sumerian myth of The Descent of Inanna, Goddess of Heaven and Earth, and her husband, the shepherd king Dumuzi. Actually, this is the warm-up. Let's re-weave some of the dropped threads after our holiday hiatus from the story.

When we last saw Inanna, she was just returned from the underworld, accompanied by the galla, heartless demons who could not be moved to pity. The galla walked with Inanna because they had orders to take someone back to the underworld in her place. Such were the rules that governed commerce between the realms.

The first person that Inanna met was Ninshubur, her faithful advisor and friend. The galla said that they would take Ninshubur to fill Inanna's place but the goddess objected. They walked on.

Next Inanna met her eldest son, who threw himself in the dust at her feet.The galla said that they would take him to fill Inanna's place but the goddess objected. They walked on.

Next Inanna met Lulal, her youngest son, who threw himself in the dust at her feet.The galla said that they would take him to fill Inanna's place but the goddess objected. The galla said "Alright Inanna, we'll let him go. Let us walk on to your city, to Uruk, and the big apple tree."

When they got to the big apple tree they found Dumuzi, dressed in his royal finery, seated on his throne, busy with affairs of state. He didn't get up, cry out, or weep for joy when he saw his wife. He was busy. "I've had my hands full, " he said, "while you were off doing who-knows-what." The galla grabbed Dumuzi by the arms and by the thighs. They started to beat him. Inanna fixed her husband with the eye of death and said, "Take him. Take Dumuzi away."

Dumuzi wailed. he prayed to Utu, the god of justice, to save him. Utu was Dumuzi's brother-in-law. "Utu," he cried, "I am your brother-in-law. I am the one who brought gifts to your house. I treated your mother as if she were my own. I won the hand of your sister. I am the one who danced on the holy knees, the holy knees of Inanna. Turn my hands into snake hands, turn my feet into snake feet, and let me slip away."

Utu answered Dumuzi's prayers and he slipped away from his demons. But Dumuzi's flight, the struggle withe the underworld, and the story do not end there. Next Dumuzi has a dream.

Dumuzi was terrified. His heart was filled with tears. He ran back to his home on the steppe and stumbled across the grasslands crying. "Oh frogs in the river, oh crabs in the river, weep for me" he cried. "If something happens to me, if I disappear, please tell my mother. My mother will mourn for me. My sister will mourn for me."

Exhausted, Dumuzi lay down among the rushes to sleep. He had a dream. When he woke up he shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and began to tremble. He called out for his sister. "Bring me my wise woman," he said, "Bring me my little sister Geshtinanna, my sister the scribe, who knows many songs, who can interpret dreams. She will tell me the meaning of this dream."

Come back tomorrow for the rest of the story.

 

Elixir of Youth

When she gets back to the surface, Inanna, the Sumerian Queen of Heaven and Earth, taps her husband Dumuzi to take her place in the underworld. Seems like a very tough break for Dumuzi, even though he is an inattentive husband. Later this month I'll post the rest of that story. In the meantime, here's a Sumerian-mythos inspired thought.

Dumuzi was a shepherd before Inanna made him king. The goddess was initially inclined to marry a farmer but Dumuzi presented her with all of the right gifts and conducted himself through all of the prescribed rituals of courtship so gallantly that she couldn't resist. Dumuzi may be an avatar of Gilgamesh, the sun king of the city of Uruk. Gilgamesh appears in "The Huluppu Tree," the first hymn to Inanna, in which the creation of the world and the beginning of Inanna's career as goddess are related. She fishes a great huluppu tree out of the Euphrates River and replants it in her sacred garden with the plan to make a bed and a throne from it when the tree is grown. When the time comes to use the tree, Inanna finds it infested with evil creatures. Mighty Gilgamesh chases them off for her and builds the desired furniture.

The myth of Gilgamesh and his friend Enkidu form another important part of the Sumerian mythology. Gilgamesh was superhuman (one-third god and two-thirds human) and had a difficult time finding his place in the world and fulfilling his destiny as king and protector of his people. As a beautiful young man his great strength was used only to intimidate and abuse others. The citizens prayed to the gods for deliverance from him! (Alas, we can relate).Then the gods created Enkidu to be his foil and the two men had many adventures together. But Enkidu dies and Gilgamesh travels through the mountain at the end of the world to find the secret of immortality. He fails, but he almost, almost, makes it back to the human realm with the plant that restores youth. Unfortunately he dropped the plant and a snake ate it. Gilgamesh fails to complete his personal quest. He doesn't save humans from death or otherwise change the familiar cycle but he does go home to Uruk to (finally) become a wise and beloved king.

I've always loved the end of this story. What make Gilgamesh truly great in the eyes of the Sumerians is the fact that he writes his story on the walls of the city.

(Other fragments of the mythology/history of Sumer tell the tale of Enmerkar, another king of Uruk, who disregards the advice of the gods and disappears without recording any of his experiences or decisions. Enmerkar was apparently held up as an example for other leaders; creating a written record was, for the Sumerians, Akkadians, and others in the Middle East at the time, an essential duty of kingship).

Gilgamesh records his triumphs and mistakes, the events witnessed and lessons learned, on the city walls, his personal history and that of his people co-mingled, part of what protects and preserves them as a people. Compare this with Going Rogue, Palin's pitiful attempt at self-aggrandizement and maybe you'll share my enthusiasm for the Sumerian definition of leadership. But we're not without contemporary models. Czeslaw Milosz's Native Realm, for example, which ends with words worthy of a Sumerian king: "Through defeats and disasters, humanity searches for the elixir of youth; that is, life made into thought, the ardor that upholds belief in the wider usefulness of our individual effort, even if it apparently changes nothing in the iron working of the world."

Life made into thought...writing...the elixir of youth. Isn't that grand?