"We thus return to the starting point, the love-play between yogi and yogini, god and goddess, and first examine the various feminine typologies which the tantric master uses in his rituals. Vajrayana distinguishes three types of woman in all:
The “real woman” (karma mudra). She is a real human partner. According to tantric doctrine she belongs to the “realm of desire”. The “imaginary woman” or “spirit woman” (inana mudra). She is summonsed by the yogi’s meditative imagination and only exists there or in his fantasy. The inana mudra is placed in the “realm of forms”. The “inner woman” (maha mudra). She is the woman internalized via the tantric praxis, with no existence independent of the yogi. She is not even credited with the reality of an imagined form, therefore she counts as a figure from the “formless realm”.
All three types of woman are termed mudra. This word originally meant ‘seal’, ‘stamp’, or ‘letter of the alphabet’. It further indicated certain magical hand gestures and body postures, with which the yogi conducted, controlled and “sealed” the divine energies. This semantic richness has led to all manner of speculation. For example, we read that the tantric master “stamps” the phenomena of the world with happiness, and that as his companion helps him do this, she is known as mudra (‘stamp’). More concretely, the Maha Siddha Naropa refers to the fact that a tantric partner, in contrast to a normal woman, assists the guru in blocking his ejaculation during the sexual act, and as it were “seals” this, which is of major importance for the performance of the ritual. For this reason she is known as mudra, ‘seal’ (Naropa, 1994, p. 81). But the actual meaning probably lies in the following: in Vajrayana the feminine itself is “sealed”, that is, spellbound via a magic act, so that it is available to the tantric master in its entirety.
Highest mistress of the world! Let me in the azure Tent of Heaven, in light unfurled Hear thy Mystery measure! Justify sweet thoughts that move Breast of man to meet thee! And with holy bliss of love Bear him up to greet thee! (Faust II, 11997–12004)
Since the yogi produces his wisdom companion through the imaginative power of his spirit, he can rightly consider himself her spiritual father. The inana mudra is composed of the substance of his own thoughts. She thus does not consist of matter, but — and this is very important — she nonetheless appears outside of her imagination-father and initially encounters him as an autonomous subject. He thus experiences her as a being who admittedly has him alone to thank for her being, but who nevertheless has a life of her own, like a child, separated from its mother once it is born.
As a master of unbounded imagination, the yogi is seldom content with a single inana mudra, and instead creates several female beings from out of his spirit, either one after another or simultaneously. The Kalachakra Tantra describes how the imagined “goddesses” spring from various parts of his body, from out of his head, his forehead, his neck, his heart and his navel. He can conjure up the most diverse entities in the form of women, such as elements, planets, energies, forces and emotions — compassion for example: “as the incarnation of this arises in his heart a golden glowing woman wearing a white robe. ... Then this woman steps ... out of his heart, spreads herself out to the heaven of the gods like a cloud and lets down a rain of nourishment as an antidote for all bodily suffering” (Gäng, 1988, p. 44).
As far as their external and autonomous existence is concerned, this is indeed the yogi’s conception. He does not accord even the real woman any further inherent existence. When, after the tantric ritual in which she is elevated to a goddess, she before all eyes returns home in visible, physical form, in the eyes of the guru she no longer exists as an independent being, but merely as the product of his imagination, as a conceptual image — even when a normal person perceives the girl as a being of flesh and blood.
But although her autonomous feminine existence has been dissolved, her feminine essence (gynergy) has not been lost. Via an act of sexual magic the yogi has appropriated this and with it achieved the power of an androgyne. He destroys, so to speak, the exterior feminine in order to internalize it and produce an “inner woman” as a part of himself. “He absorbs the Mother of the Universe into himself”, as it is described in the Kalachakra Tantra (Grünwedel, Kalacakra IV, p. 32).
The male tantric master now has the power to assume the female form of the goddess (who is of course an aspect of his own mystical body), that is, he can appear in the figure of a woman. Indeed, he even has the magical ability to divide himself into two gendered beings, a female and a male deity. He is further able to multiply himself into several maha mudras. In the Guhyasamaja Tantra, with the help of magical conjurations he fills an entire palace with female figures, themselves all particles of his subtle body.
He incarnates the entire tantric theater. He is director, actor, audience, plot and stage in one individual.
Such agitated games are, however, just one side of the tantric philosophy, on the other is a concept of eternal standstill of being, linked to the image of the maha mudra. She appears as the “Highest Immobile”, who, like a clear, magical mirror, reflects a femininity turned to crystal. An obedient femininity with no will of her own, who complies with the looks, the orders, the desires and fantasies of her master. A female automaton, who wishes for nothing, and blesses the yogi with her divine knowledge and holy wisdom.
Whether mobile or unmoving, erotic or spiritualized — the maha mudra is universal. From a tantric viewpoint she incarnates the entire universe. Consequently, whoever has control over his “inner woman” becomes a lord of the universe, a pantocrat. She is a paradox, eternal and indestructible, but nevertheless, like the whole cosmos, without an independent existence. For this reason she is known as a “magical mirror” (Naropa, 1994, p. 81). In the final instance, she represents the “emptiness”.
This becomes especially clear in the Hevajra Tantra. In staging of the ritual we encounter at the outset a real yogini (karma mudra) or at least an imagined goddess (inana mudra), whom the yogi transforms in the course of events into a “nothing” using magic techniques. By the end the tantric master has completely robbed her of her independent existence, that is, to put it bluntly, she no longer exists. “She is the Yogini without a Self” (Farrow and Menon, 1992, pp. 218–219). Thus her name, Nairatmya, literally means ‘one who has no self, that is, non-substantial’ (Farrow and Menon, 1992, p. 219). The same concept is at work when, in another tantra, the “ultimate dakini” is visualized as a “zero-point” and experienced as “indivisible pleasure and emptiness” (Dowman, 1985, p. 74). Chögyam Trungpa sings of the highest “lady without being” in the following verses:
Always present, you do not exist ... Without body, shapeless, divinity of the true. (Trungpa, 1990, p. 40)
In Vajrayana, the Shunyata doctrine (among others) of the nonexistence of all being, is employed to conduct a symbolic sacrifice of the feminine principle. Only once this has evaporated into a “nothing” can the world and we humans be rescued from the curse of maya (illusion). This may also be a reason why the “emptiness” (shunyata), which actually by definition can not possess any characteristics, is hypostasized as feminine in the tantras.
But they are not completely destroyed in the process of their violent spiritualization, but rather “sublated” in the Hegelian sense, namely “negated” and “conserved” at the same time; they are — to make use of one of the favorite terms of the Buddhist evolutionary theorist, Ken Wilber — “integrated”. This guarantees that the creative feminine energies are not lost following the material “dissolution” of their bearers, and instead are available solely to the yogi as a precious elixir. A sacrifice of the feminine as an autonomous principle must therefore be regarded as the sine qua non for the universal power of the tantric master. These days this feminine sacrifice may only be performed entirely in the imagination. But this need not have always been the case.
The tantric recognizes a majority of the feminine properties as extremely powerful. He therefore has not the slightest intention of destroying them as such. In contrast, he wishes to make the feminine forces his own. The tantric yogi unites with her not just in the sexual act, but above all through consuming her holy gynergy, the magical force of maya. To gain the “gynergy” for himself, the yogi must “kill” the possessor of the vital feminine substances and then “incorporate” her. Such an act of violence does not necessarily imply the real murder of his mudra, it can also be performed symbolically. But a real ritual murder of a woman is by like measure not precluded, and it is not surprising that occasional references can be found in the Vajrayana texts which blatantly and unscrupulously demand the actual killing of a woman. In a commentary on the Hevajra Tantra, at a point where a lower-caste wisdom consort (dombi) is being addressed, stands bluntly, “I kill you, o Dombi, I take your life!” (Snellgrove, 1987, vol. 1, p. 159).
The origin of these Buddhist “flame masses” from the Vedas becomes obvious when it is noted that the Vedic fire god Agni appears in the Buddhist tantras as the “Consumer of Offerings”. The symbolic burning of “sacrificial goddesses” is found in nearly every tantra. It represents every possible characteristic, from the human senses to various states of consciousness. The elements (fire, water, etc.) and individual bodily features are also imagined in the form of a “sacrificial goddesses”. With the pronouncement of a powerful magic formula they all perish in the fire. In what is known as the Vajrayogini ritual, the pupil sacrifices several inana mudras to a red fire god who rides a goat. The chief goddess, Vajrayogini, appears here with “a red-colored body which shines with a brilliance like that of the fire of the aeon” (Gyatso, 1991, p. 443).
A “burning woman” by the name of Candali plays such a significant role in the Kalachakra initiations... the “ignition of feminine energy”, a central event along the sexual magic initiation path of Tantrism.
The alchemic law of solve et coagole ("dissolve and rebuild”) is likewise a maxim here. We also know of such phoenix-from-the-ashes scenarios among the occidental mystics. For our study it is, however, of especial interest that this “inner fire” carries the name of a woman in the Time Tantra. The candali — as it is called — refers firstly to a girl from the lowest caste, but the Sanskrit word also etymologically bears the meaning of ‘fierce woman’ (Cozort, 1986, p. 71). The Tibetans translate “candali” as ‘the hot one’ (Tum-mo) and take this to mean a fiery source of power in the body of a tantra adept.
The candali thus reveals itself to be the Buddhist sister of the Hindu fire-snake (kundalini), which likewise lies dormant in the lowest chakra of a yogi and leaps up in flames once it is unchained. But in Buddhism the destructive aspect of the inner “fire woman” is far more emphasized than her creative side. It is true that the Hindu kundalini is also destructive, but she is also most highly venerated as the creative principle (shakti): “She is a world mother, who is eternally pregnant with the world. ... The world woman and Kundalini are the macrocosmic and microcosmic aspects of the same greatness: Shakti, who god-like weaves and bears all forms” (Zimmer, 1973, p. 146).
One text describes her as “lightning-fire”, another as the “daughter of death” (Snellgrove, 1959, p. 49). Then, level for level, the “hot one” burns out all the adept’s chakras. The five elements equated with the energy centers are destroyed in blazing heat. Starting from below, firstly the earth is burned up in the region of the navel and transforms itself into water in the heart chakra. Then the water is burnt out and disintegrates in fire in the throat. In the forehead, with the help of the candali the air consumes the fire, and at the crown of the skull all the elements vanish into empty space. At the same time the five senses and the five sense objects which correspond to the respective lotus centers are destroyed. Since a meditation Buddha and his partner inhabit each chakra, these also succumb to the flames. The Kalachakra Tantra speaks of a “dematerialization of the form aggregate” (Cozort, 1986, p. 130).
Lastly the candali devours the entire old energy body of the adept, including the gods who, in the microcosmic scheme of things, inhabit him. We must never forget that the tantric universe consists of an endless chain of analogies and homologies and links between all levels of being. Hence the yogi believes that by staging the destruction of his imperfect human body he simultaneously destroys the imperfect world, and that usually with the best intentions.
But what happens to the candali, once she has completed her pyrotechnical opus? Does she now participate as an equal partner with the yogi in the creation of a new universe? No — the opposite is true! She disappears from the tantric stage, just like the elements which were destroyed with her help. Once she has vaporized all the lotus centers (chakras) up to the roof of the skull, she melts the bodhicitta (male seed) stored there. This, on account of its “watery” character, possesses the power to extinguish the “fire woman”. She is, like the human karma mudra on the level of visible reality, dismissed by the yogi.
In the face of this spectacular volcanic eruption in the inner bodily landscape of the tantra master we must ask what the magic means might be which grant him the power to ignite the candali and make her serve his purpose. Several tantras nominate sexual greed, which brings her to the boil. The Hevajra Tantra speaks of the “fire of passion” (Farrow and Menon, 1992, p. xxix). In another text “kamic fire” is explicitly mentioned (Avalon, 1975, p. 140). The term refers to the Hindu god Kama, who represents sexual pleasure. Correspondingly, direct reference is made to the act of love in a further tantric manual, where it can be read that “during sexual intercourse the Candali vibrates a little and great heat arises” (Hopkins, 1982, p. 177).
The equation of the sexual act with a fire ritual can be traced to the Vedas, and was later adopted by Tantric Buddhism. There the woman is referred to as the “sacrificial fire, her lower portion as the sacrificial wood, the genital region as the flame, the penetration as the carbon and the copulation as the spark” (Bhattacharyya, 1982, p. 124). From a Vedic viewpoint the world cannot continue to exist without a fire sacrifice.
In Western discussion about the maha mudra she is glorified by Lama Govinda (Ernst Lothar Hoffmann) as the “Eternal Feminine” which now counts as part of the yogi’s essential being. (Govinda, 1991, p. 111). According to Govinda she fulfills a role comparable to that of the muse, who up until the 19th century whispered inspiration into the ears of European artists. Muses could also become incarnated as real women, but in the same manner existed as “inner goddesses”, known then under the name of “inspiration”.
Fundamentally, the Buddhist tantric distinguishes three types of sacrifice: the outer, the inner and the secret. The “outer sacrifice” consists of the offering to a divinity, the Buddhas, or the guru, of food, incense, butter lamps, perfume, and so on. For instance in the so-called “mandala sacrifice” the whole universe can be presented to the teacher, in the form of a miniature model, whilst the pupil says the following. “I sacrifice all the components of the universe in their totality to you, O noble, kind, and holy lama!” (Bleichsteiner, 1937, p. 192)
In the “inner sacrifice” the pupil (Sadhaka) gives his guru, usually in a symbolic act, his five senses (sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch), his states of consciousness, and his feelings, or he offers himself as an individual up to be sacrificed. Whatever the master demands of him will be done — even if the sadhaka must cut the flesh from his own limbs, like the tantric adept Naropa.
Behind the “secret sacrifice” hides, finally, a particular ritual event which attracts our especial interest, since it is here that the location of the “tantric female sacrifice” is to be suspected. It concerns — as can be read in a modern commentary upon the Kalachakra Tantra — “the spiritual sacrifice of a dakini to the lama” (Henss, 1985, p. 56). Such symbolic sacrifices of goddesses are all but stereotypical of tantric ceremonies. “The exquisite bejeweled woman ... is offered to the Buddhas” (Gäng, 1988, p. 151), as the Guhyasamaja Tantra puts it. Often eight, sometimes sixteen, occasionally countless “wisdom girls” are offered up in “the holy most secret of offerings” (quoted by Beyer, 1978, p. 162)
There are unmistakable statements from [Evola] about the “tantric female sacrifice” and the transformation of sexuality into political power. Like almost no other, the Italian has openly named the events that unfold in the mysteries of the yogis and then confessed to them: “The young woman,” he writes, “who is first ‘demonized’ and then raped, ... is essentially... the basic motif for the higher forms of tantric and Vajrayanic sexual magic” (Evola, 1983, p. 389). Rather, the man must encounter the woman in the “magic love” in order to divert her feminine energies.
According to Serrano the “killing” of the external woman (the karma mudra) is therefore necessary, so that the inner woman (the maha mudra) can be formed. The author does not shrink from discussing the “tantric female sacrifice” directly: “Only those who are able to love the woman so much [!] that they externally kill her [!] in order to make possible her inner rebirth will find the immortal city of Agarthi (or Shambhala)” (Serrano, 1982, p. 13).
“The secret path of yoga along which you are traveling is only for the warrior, for the initiated hero. It is not the path for the woman; because a woman has no chakras, no kundalini to awaken. ... A woman is the Kundalini. A woman has no soul. She is the soul. A woman has no eternity. She is eternity” (Serrano, 1984, pp. 102, 147).
“The authentic, absolute woman sacrifices herself voluntarily,” we read in NOS, “immolating herself in order to give her eternity to her lover. ... The beloved is now the hidden beloved, she who has died and buried herself in your bones and your veins. The female Sophia, guru of the soul, she who courses through the blood, the female philosopher, Sophia, wisdom, the dove, gnosis” (Serrano, 1984, pp. 147-148). Dying, his “wisdom consort” says to him, “I shall but love thee better after death. I give you my eternity.
Through this love, deadly for the woman, the man gains eternal life. In this context, Serrano plays upon the word AMOR, which does not just mean love, but also A-MOR, i.e., beyond death."
"...The behavior of the Indo-European warrior bands offers certain points of resemblance to the secret fraternities of primitive societies. In both alike, the members of the group terrorize women and noninitiates and in some sort exercise a 'right of rapine', a custom which, in diluted form, is still found in the popular traditions of Europe and the Caucuses. Rapine, and cattle stealing, assimilate the members of the warrior band to carnivora. In the Germanic Wütende Heer, or in similar ritual organizations, the barking of dogs (equals wolves) forms part of an indescribable uproar into which all sorts of strange sounds enter, for example, bells and trumpets. These sound play an important ritual role; they help prepare for the frenzied ecstasy of the members of the group....In the Germanic or Japanese men's secret societies the strange sounds, like the masks, attest the presence of the Ancestors, the return of the souls of the dead. The fundamental experience is provoked by the initiates' meeting with the dead, who return to earth more especially about the winter solstice. Winter is also the season when the initiates change into wolves. In other words, during the winter the members of the band are able to transmute their profane conditions and attain to a superhuman existence, whether by consorting with the Ancestors or by appropriating the behavior, that is the magic, of the carnivora." - Mircea Eliade, Rites and Symbols of Initiation
"They went without shields, and were mad as dogs or wolves, and bit on their shields, and were as strong as bears or bulls; men they slew, and neither fire nor steel would deal with them; and this is what is called the fury of the berserker." - Ynglingasaga
"A youth did not become a berserker simply through courage, physical strength, endurance, but as the result of a magico-religious experience that radically changed his mode of being. The young warrior must transmute his humanity by a fit of aggressive and terror-striking fury, which assimilated him to the raging heat of prey. He became 'heated' to an extreme degree, flooded by a mysterious, nonhuman, and irresistible force that his fighting effort and vigor summoned from the utmost depths of his being. The ancient Germans called this sacred force wut, a term that Adam von Bremen translated by furor; it was a sort of demonic frenzy, which filled the warrior's adversary with terror and finally paralyzed him. The Irish ferg (literally 'anger'), the Homeric menos, are almost exact equivalents of this same terrifying sacred experience peculiar to heroic combats." "The 'wrath' and the heat induced by a violent and excessive access of sacred power are feared by the majority of mankind. The term shanti, which in Sanskrit designates tranquillity, peace of soul, freedom from the passions, relief from suffering, derives from the root sham, which originally had the meaning of extinguishing the fire, the anger, the fever, in short the heat, provided by demonic powers." - Joseph Campbell, Creative Mythology
Harmony is born of War [Harmonia is the daughter of Ares]... [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]
More on 'Ar' [comparing Rig Veda, Homer and Pindar] :
"The Name of Homer: More needs to be said about the name of Homer, since its meaning seems to reveal a particularly archaic view of the poet and his function. For the interpretation of Hom-êros as 'he who fits [the song] together', built from the verb root *ar- as in ar-ar-iskô 'fit, join', we may compare the following use of the same verb, as an intransitive perfect: So beautifully is their song fitted together.[1]
Moreover, I adduce the semantics of the Indo-European root *tek(s)-, which like *ar- means 'fit, join'. From the comparative evidence assembled by Rüdiger Schmitt, we see that *tek(s)- was traditionally used to indicate the activity of a carpenter in general (compare the semantics of joiner, an older English word for "carpenter") and of a chariot-carpenter in particular. In addition, Schmitt adduces comparative evidence to show that *tek(s)- was also used to indicate, by metaphor, the activity of a poet: much as a chariot-carpenter fits together his chariot, so also the poet fits together his poem/song. This comparison is actually attested as an overt simile in the most archaic body of Indic poetry:
imam te vacam vasûyánta âyávo rátham ná dhirah svápâ ataksisuh The sons of Âyu, wishing for good things, have fitted together [root taks-, from *tek(s)-] this utterance, just as the skilled artisan (fits together) a chariot. Rig-Veda 1.130.6ab
It is, then, an Indo-European poetic tradition that the poet may compare his activity with that of artisans like carpenters. Moreover, we see from Odyssey xvii 381-387 that poets are in fact the social equals of artisans--carpenters included.[6] In this light, we may now turn to the internal Greek evidence of *ar-, which parallels the comparative evidence on *tek(s)-. In the Linear B texts (e.g., Knossos tablets Sg 1811, So 0437, etc.), the word for "chariot-wheel" is a-mo = harmo, by etymology an abstract noun ("fitting") derived from the verb root *ar- as in ar-ar-iskô 'fit, join'. Note too the Homeric name at V 59-: Harmonidês 'son of Harmôn' (root *ar-), the patronymic of one Tektôn 'Carpenter' (root *tek[s]-).
§12. The technical sense of Harmonidês is parallel to that of harmoniê 'joint [in woodwork]' but the latter form also has the social sense of "accord" (e.g., XXII 255 )--as well as a musical sense roughly corresponding to our notion of "harmony" (e.g., Sophocles fr. 244 Pearson). Both the musical and the social aspects of the word are incorporated in the figure Harmoniê, bride of Kadmos (Hesiod Th. 937 , 975), at whose wedding the Muses themselves sang a song inaugurating the social order of Thebes
§13. I conclude, then, that the root *ar- in Homêros traditionally denotes the activity of a poet as well as that of a carpenter, and this semantic bivalence corresponds neatly with the Indo-European tradition of comparing music/poetry with carpentry, by way of the root *tek(s)-. This tradition is proudly recaptured in the words of Pindar extolling the themes of Homer: We know of Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon--subjects for men to talk about-- from famed words [epos plural] such as skilled carpenters fitted together. Pindar P.3.112-114
§12n3. Note that Harmoniê is daughter of Ares For the theory that the name Arês itself is derived from *ar- `fit, join', see Sinos 1975.52-54 and 71-72, who argues that Ares is the obsolete embodiment of the principles joining together the members of society in general and of warrior-society in particular.
§13n3. The verb harmozô 'fit together' is derived from the noun *hármo, by origin an abstract noun ("fitting") which came to have a concrete designation ("chariot wheel") and which is in turn derived from the verb *ar- as in ar-ar-iskô (`join, fit'); see §11. The phonology of harmozô (from *hármo as distinct from standard classical harma, meaning 'chariot') suggests that the word was inherited from the élite social strata of the second millennium B.C. See Risch 1966, esp. p. 157. On the name of Homer and its relevance to the concept of rhapsode, see now Nagy 1996.74-78.]" [Gregory Nagy, The Best of the Achaeans]
This forum was intended as a mustering spot, a club requiring membership, but also a learning and teaching academy for those that sought reality beyond the current and the popular.
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Lyssa Har Har Harr
Gender : Posts : 8965 Join date : 2012-03-01 Location : The Cockpit
"...eye arcane, inclined, gold-ringed, blatant beak an arrow-head, angled to declare the triumph of the Sun, its only trail the ancient ribbon of its song." [Frances Stadlen]
"In the sign of the Ar the Aryans - the sons of the sun - founded their law [Rita], the primal law of the Aryans, of which the earn, or eagle [Aar], is the heiroglyph. It SACRIFICES itself, as it consecrates itself in a flaming death, in order to be REBORN. For this reason it was called the "fanisk" and later "phoenix" [Fanisk: fan = generation; -ask (isk) = arising, beginning, therefore: Fanisk or Fanisk = the beginning of generation through rebirth. Fanisk later became the phoenix, and thus is the phoenix explained.].
Therefore it is read as a symbolic hieroglyph when an eagle is laid on the funeral pyre of a celebrated hero to indicate that the dead hero rejuvenatingly prepares himself in death for rebirth in order to strive for a still more glorious future life in human form in spite of all the restrictions of the powers of darkness - all of which crumble before the "ar:" "Respect the primal fire!" [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]
A.K.Coomaraswamy, like Guenon, etc. is a gnostic and conflates esoteric Xt., heremeticism, neoplotinian wisdom, etc. with the pagan vedic, greek, germanic. Pick the necessary strands and tread carefully...
"The Ganas (categories) are the host of spooks, hobgoblins and spirits who accompany Shiva. ...Descriptions of the Ganas vary from the wholly abstract – representing the fundamental categories of existence, to somewhat negative descriptions of them being deformed, grotesque, dwarfs or night-walking spirits of gross and lustful appetite. It is said they had acquired the capacity to change shapes whenever they liked, could move about invisibly and fly. They flung Shiva's enemies into ravines and dashing them to the ground in their rage. Moreover, they were fond of music and dancing, and occasionally enticed women into their embrace. The Pishachas were often propitiated by people in order that they spare children from their attentions. In some myths, Skanda was originally reckoned as among the Pishacha hosts. ...Alain Daniélou, in Gods of Love and Ecstasy likens the Ganas to both the Greek Korybantes (supernatural followers of Dionysus) and the Celtic Korrigans (fairies' sons) or the Wild Hunt. He notes that the followers of the god tend to identify themselves with his heavenly companions and to imitate their behaviour. In ancient Greece, the Korybantes were imitated by the Kouretes. Danielou notes that the practitioners of the ecstatic rites of Shiva were called bhaktas - which he translates as "participants" and says there is no difference in concept or practice between the Dionysiac bacchantes and the Shivaite bhaktas. He notes that a hymn in the Rig Veda describes the mad ones who are wild and naked, having drunk from Rudra's cup. According to Danielou, the Ganas mock the rules of ethics and social order - they personify the joys of living, courage and imagination. "These delinquents of heaven are always there to restore true values and to assist the "god-mad" who are persecuted and mocked by the powerful. They personify everything which is feared by and displeases bourgeois society…""
"The wild boys are calling On their way back from the fire In august moon's surrender to A dust cloud on the rise Wild boys fallen far from glory Reckless and so hungered On the razors edge you trail Because there's murder by the roadside In a sore afraid new world
They tried to break us, Looks like they'll try again
Wild boys never lose it Wild boys never chose this way Wild boys never close your eyes Wild boys always shine
You got sirens for a welcome There's bloodstain for your pain And your telephone been ringing while You're dancing in the rain Wild boys wonder where is glory Where is all you angels Now the figureheads have fell And lovers war with arrows over Secrets they could tell
They tried to tame you Looks like they'll try again
Wild boys never lose it Wild boys never chose this way Wild boys never close your eyes Wild boys always shine" [Duran Duran]
Quote :
"Anyone who joins them must leave women behind. There is no vow. It is a state of mind you must have in order to make contact with the wild boys.” This furthers the idea that the wild boys are something more than a tribe of humans, and from a magical perspective, the wild boys can be likened to the tantric Ganas - the wild hosts of chaotic, churning, demonic spirits who dwell in the cremation ground and who form the host of Shiva.
William S. Burroughs’ 1969 novel The Wild Boys introduces several themes into the author’s magical universe: the struggle to escape the mechanisms of social control; the search for transcendence of the biological trap of duality, and the narrator’s ability to rewrite (and thereby destroy) his own past. The Wild Boys, subtitled “A book of the dead” has been described by some critics as a homosexual version of ‘Peter Pan’. Set in an apocalyptic near-future, The Wild Boys contrasts the struggle between the remnants of civilization which exist in totalitarian enclaves and the wild boys - a revolutionary tribe of youths who exist in a utopian, instinctual state. The wild boys exist outside of the conventions of civilization, free from the control mechanisms of religion, nation, family and ‘normal’ sexuality.
The wild boys themselves live as a tribe - without leaders or hierarchy but with a shared group consciousness. Rather than being individual characters, they are a manifestation of all that is repressed in civilized society, in particular, the forces we know as Eros and Thanatos. In the novel, the wild boys periodically explode into orgies of wild, unstoppable violence or lust. Through the use of drugs and sex, the wild boys discover a magical technology of restoring the dead to life, and so free themselves from biological dependence on women, birth, and death. Lacking an individual sense of self, they can cross to and from the land of the dead and exist in a liminal state between the worlds. They are, within Burroughs’ magical universe, a male-only version of the maenads, representing the chaotic power of instinctual desire when manifested in a living form. ...""
The Wild Hunt is an ancient folk myth prevalent across Northern, Western and Central Europe. The fundamental premise in all instances is the same: a phantasmal, spectral group of huntsmen with the accoutrements of hunting, with horses and hounds in mad pursuit across the skies or along the ground, or just above it. The hunters may be the dead or the fairies (often in folklore connected with the dead). The hunter may be an unidentified lost soul, a deity or spirit of either gender, or may be a historical or legendary figure like Theodoric the Great, the Danish king Valdemar Atterdag, the Welsh psychopomp Gwyn ap Nudd or the Germanic Woden (or other reflections of the same god, such as Alemannic Wuodan in Wuotis Heer ("Wuodan's Army") of Central Switzerland, Swabia etc.) It has been variously referred to as Wilde Jagd (German: "wild hunt/chase") or Wildes Heer (German: "wild army"), Herlaþing (Old English: "Herla's assembly"), Woden's Hunt, Herod's Hunt, Cain's Hunt, the Devil's Dandy Dogs (in Cornwall), Gabriel's Hounds (in northern England), Ghost Riders (in North America), Mesnée d'Hellequin (Old North French: "household of Hellequin"), Cŵn Annwn (Welsh: "hounds of Annwn"), divoký hon or štvaní (Czech: "wild hunt", "baiting"), Dziki Gon or Dziki Łów (Polish), Oskoreia or Åsgårdsreia (Norwegian: "ride of Asgard"), Estantiga (from Hoste Antiga, Galician: "the old army"), Hostia, Compaña and Santa Compaña ("troop, company") in Galicia, and güestia in Asturias. Seeing the Wild Hunt was thought to presage some catastrophe such as war or plague, or at best the death of the one who witnessed it. Mortals getting in the path of or following the Hunt could be kidnapped and brought to the land of the dead. A girl who saw Wild Edric's Ride was warned by her father to put her apron over her head to avoid the sight.[10] Others believed that people's spirits could be pulled away during their sleep to join the cavalcade. In Germany, where it was also known as the "Wild Army", or "Furious Army", its leader was given various identities, including Wodan (or "Woden"), Knecht Ruprecht (cf. Krampus), Berchtold (or Berchta), and Holda (or "Holle"). The Wild Hunt is also known from post-medieval folklore. ... Otto Höfler (1934) and other authors of his generation emphasized the identification of the hunter with Odin, looking for the traces of an ecstatic Odin cult in more recent customs from German-speaking areas. In view of this, John Lindow of the University of California, Berkeley (Lindahl et al. 2002:433) notes that more recent scholarship "would argue a basis in an Indo-European warrior cult in which young warriors imbued with the life force fight with the characteristics of animals, especially, those of wolves, and are initiated into a warrior band [...].""
"As we approach the time of SAMHAIN (pronounced 'sah-win'), when the boundries dividing the "realm of the Dead" from that of the living are supposedly almost nonexistent, many people decorate their environment with images designed to instill fear and evoke terror. Samhain, the Celtic Feast of the Dead, the End-of-Summer Fire Festival, or the beginning of the dark part of the 'New' year. At this time, the ancestors are honored and return to claim their portion. Of all these images which evoke terror, none is more enduring and widespread than that of "The Wild Hunt". The myth of the Wild Hunt can be seen in many countries, and exists in England, Wales, Scotland, Germany, Scandinavia, and Iceland, among other places. Simply put, the Wild Hunt is a procession of beings led by a spirit who roam through the countryside reveling, hunting, killing or eating everything in their path.
"As through the air in the dark came a thunder, - a howling horde on ferocious horses, It raced over woods to the wedding house, Intended to visit the bloody performance. Then horns blew, and an awesome noise From bells and riding-gear resounded. Now it was close - it came over the hill - There was an outcry: The wild hunt of Asgard!
There was a tempest in Heaven and Earth, That hurled a horror in every heart, It blasted along in growing circles, It punched with wings and grabbed with arms. Then Wolf was dragged away by his hair, thrown up in the air and taken away, Yes, taken away over woods and mountains, He was never seen or heard of again." ~ excerpt from "Åsgårdsreien" (The Wild Hunt), by Johan Sebastian Welhaven (1807-1873)
"During this season when the veils between the worlds are at their very thinnest, the Mighty Dead and the revered, beloved ancestors were honored and made welcome. The Mighty Dead refers to the more heroic and important members of our tribes and families who have passed on into the Otherworld - the Land Beyond Death. The Ancestors were, and are, ceremonially invited to come back to Mid-Earth, to warm themselves at the family's hearthfire, to partake of the family's Samhain supper, and partake also in the night's festivities. In many cultures, the ancestors are said to live in the hearthfires, which customarily are extinguished and ceremonially relit on this occasion of year's end and winter's beginning. ... With days growing short and cold, it seems that the sacred fire of life is withdrawing from the outer worlds to the inner worlds. The fire of our Sun grow wane and weak, plants wither and die. But the power of fire is only moving inward - into the depths, down to the roots - rather than being extinguished. The inner fires grow brighter and the inner life grows stronger. During this dark time of Winter, our emphasis shifts from the concerns of the outer world, to those of our inner worlds: it is a time for sitting by the fire, for nourishing our roots, for resting, for reflection, and for dreaming the dream that will become the future."
"Throughout Ireland there are tales of monsters that appear at Samhain and that must be killed by a hero. These can be shown to have an Indo-European heritage. ... They seem to point toward a proto-Irish myth associated with Samhain. It is the story of a malevolent being or beings, who comes from outside the world (from a sidhe or over or under the sea) at Samhain and lays waste to the world. This being is triple in some form(three heads, three ravens, three hearts, three spurts of blood). He is finally destroyed by a hero who is in some sense an outsider as well (Amairgein, Finn, Caoilte, Lugh) with a thrown weapon (spear, sling-stone, chessmen). That this event results in a renewal of the world is not stated, but is implied... the warrior is a force for destruction who must be incorporated into society. What I wish to emphasize here, however, are the cosmological implications. Cosmos cannot last. It must always eventually crumble before the powers of chaos which chip away at it from outside and underneath. Thus the Indo-Europeans expressed their own understanding of the law of entropy. They did not see it as one-way, however, but held out a hope for the restoration of order. Chaos comes to sweep away the calcifications, and then the hero comes to recreate a secure cosmos again. The destruction is not pleasant to those who undergo it, and our sympathies are clearly on the side of the hero. Still, the hero himself has chaos in his soul."
"Beginnings are always important, as are the ways we approach any new task. Good preparation and a willingness to lay the ground on which we will build are every bit as valuable as the eventual outcome. The Green Man's wisdom here is specific: make a good start and whatever you are undertaking will end well. This means paying attention to the moment of inspiriation (which the Celts called 'awen') and following this to a satisfactory conclusion. Traditionally birch was used to drive out evil spirits and return to sanity those who had become mad. Its calendrical association is with the beginnings of the year, and with the sacred festival of Samhain, hence its connection with making a fresh start. The birch is also one of the first trees to flower in the spring. At Samhain,... Birch was burned to drive out “evil spirits” or the spirits of the old year. This practice had continued into more modern times with the practice of “Birching prisoners or the Insane in an effort to expel these more modern versions of the evil spirits."
(Interesting is the mention of how Thor's hammer might have been a middle stage of symbolic evolution between the pagan thunder-stone/axe and the Xt. cross.)
Quote :
"We cannot doubt that the figure of Þórr reaches back into Indo-European times. In the age of Indo-European unity, which preceded the Iron Age, this god could not have held an iron worker’s hammer. Indeed, the gods are pictured with various arms: bolts, axes, clubs, or arrows. If Þórr later wields an iron hammer it must have supplanted the earlier thunder- weapon, as has been suggested by some scholars. There is no evidence, however, to show that hammers supplanted earlier aggressive arms. Hammers have not been recovered from hoards of Viking treasure and thus could not have held much practical or symbolic significance.4 The most exalted place in weaponry was in medieval times accorded to the sword. Þórr’s weapon is often a shafted instrument, whether a hammer or an axe. Let us see whether the older tool, the axe, was ever superseded by a hammer.
In contrast to hammers, axes appear frequently in archaeo- logical finds in the Germanic area, onwards from the Neolithic Age. Crafted in flint and later in bronze and iron, they retained importance and significance and became the favourite weapon of the Viking raid- ers.6 From the earliest times onwards axes were imbued with religious value; cultic axes are seen among the rock drawings of the Bronze Age and were graven on memorial stones. Miniature axes have been found that were intended to be worn as amulets or for adornment in a tradition which extended in certain areas from the Stone Age to the time of the Viking incursions (Paulsen 1956, 190–221; de Vries 1956–57, I 116).
Throughout the northern and north-western parts of Europe we come upon especially precious and richly decorated blades. These must have served as a sign of rank for warriors of high station.9 To substantiate this assumption we may point to an illustration by Matthew Paris in a manuscript of the second quarter of the thirteenth century depicting the battle of Stamford Bridge; here King Harald harðráði alone holds an axe while his followers wield various other weapons.10 From the thirteenth century onwards a crowned lion, clasping an axe, is depicted on the royal seal of Norway (Paulsen 1956, 262). Thus we do not find that the hammer has replaced the axe in warfare or in heraldry. When Christianity and Christian imagery came to the North of Europe the cross was shown on certain axes, as on the axe of Sibirsk (Paulsen 1956, 138), indicating their unbroken sanctity. Christian imagery did not find expression on workmen’s hammers, and in St Olaf’s axe the tool retained its religious significance into Christian times.
Axes, furthermore, were not supplanted by hammers in folk traditions. Axes are cast on the eve of the Thursday (Þórr’s day) before Easter onto the sprouting fields to promote the growth of fruit (de Vries 1956–57, II 122). Axes still function in the marriage customs of mod- ern times; they may be placed beneath the bridal bed or on the threshhold which the bride must cross.11 Axes are employed against the ravages of storm and wind. In Slesvig-Holstein an axe is thrust into a door-post in the course of a thunderstorm. It may also be laid on the table to keep lightning from the dwelling (Schwantes 1939, I 273). Axes and not hammers are thrown by the sprites of German folklore to cause pain in back or legs (Bächtold-Stäubli 1927–42, I 743–48 under Axt). And the shafted instrument in the god’s hand would in all likelihood be an axe, paralleling the axe of the Viking raider. We may conclude that hammers did not replace earlier implements in folk belief, heraldry, ceremonial, or human warfare. This finding is not surprising, for the blacksmith did not rise above other classes in the Germanic Middle Ages, and the highest office of the land was held by a warrior king.
We find Þórr’s weapon visualised as various objects and a hammer is not prominent. On a picture stone from Altuna, Uppland (eleventh century) the god holds a shafted instrument which might indeed be a hammer; it might also be a double axe, such as those of the rock drawings of the Bronze Age (fig. 2, p. 349 below). On the Gosforth Stone (tenth or eleventh century) the shafted object holds a greater resemblance to an axe than to a hammer. On a stone of Ardre (ninth century) a spear is wielded against a water monster. On Thorvaldr’s Cross Slab (Isle of Man, tenth century) a male figure carries fish, dangling from a cross, and he holds a square object, a stone or a book, ready to be hurled, in his right hand (Gschwantler 1968, 166). In describing Þórr’s statue in the temple of Uppsala, Adam of Bremen (IV 26; 1961, 470) mentions a sceptre as Þórr’s attribute, and this information is repeated by Olaus Magnus (1555, 100), where Þórr is depicted with a sceptre in a woodcut. It is true that Saxo Grammaticus mentions ‘Jove’s hammers’, malleos quos Ioviales vocabant, in his Gesta Danorum (1931–57, I 350); these are, however, not the weapons of the god, but cultic instruments which might imitate the sound of thunder. Þórr’s weapon, on the other hand, is a club, clava, in his account (Saxo Grammaticus 1979–80, I 72; 1931–57, I 66). Saxo thus clearly distinguishes between the hammer, a cultic tool, and the clava, the mighty weapon. And the giant Geruthus is slain by a sword, chalybs (Saxo Grammaticus 1931–57, I 242).
In one of the Anglo-Saxon dialogues Solomon and Saturn, thunder swings a fiery axe (Menner 1941, 169). According to the folklore of Värend in Småland thunder is a stone, thrown by Þórr or Gofar, still often found in places which were struck by thunder; such a stone is designated as thorenvigg, ‘Þórr’s wedge’ (Hyltén-Cavallius 1863–68, II 222). A modern farmer of this area told that he had seen the god riding in his carriage; he has also been seen carrying a bolt of stone in his hand (Montelius 1910, 77). The Swedish names thornkile, ‘Þórr’s wedge’, thorensten, ‘Þórr’s stone’, the Norwegian torelod, ‘Þórr’s ball’, indicate that the instrument was viewed as a stone, a ball or a wedge.
The Greek noun keraunos, ‘thunderbolt’, was routinely translated as thorvigge in Danish medieval texts (Blinkenberg 1911a, 69). A kenning in a skaldic poem, descriptive of Þórr’s weapon, evokes the image of a battle-axe (Þjóðólfr hvinverski, Haustlong st. 17; Skáldskaparmál ch. 17). Here Þórr is named the ‘friend of the troll of the snout’, rúni trolls trjónu; trjóna ‘snout’ is a variant of muðr ‘mouth’ which also designates the cutting edge of an axe; battleaxes are tradi- tionally referred to as troll-women. Þórr is thus the ‘friend of the edged battleaxe’. We thus find the following objects in Þórr’s hand: a bolt, a stone, an axe, possibly a hammer, a wedge, a spear, a ball, a sceptre or a club, while in the Icelandic texts one noun only is employed. We may also observe that the noun sleggja ‘sledge-hammer’ is never used for Þórr’s implement. It has been claimed that the hammer was engraved on memorial stones of medieval times. What was engraved, however, is the image of certain amulets which may bear a resemblance to a hammer in some of their stylisations.
Small artifacts that could be fastened to a chain or a ring, made of iron, but also of more precious metals, plain or elaborately decorated, have been discovered in areas of Scandinavia.14 They are ascribed to the tenth century AD. Since a vertical part, resembling a shaft, extends from a horizontal part, resembling a hammer’s head, the relics are inter- preted as replicas of the hammer swung by Þórr, and the name ‘Þórr’s hammer’ has been applied. They are said to indicate a rise of fervour of pagan faith in the face of triumphant Christianity. On the basis of the evidence I suggest that the so-called ‘Þórr’s hammer’ represents yet another form of the axe-blade pendants of archaic tradition. It is true that some amulets resemble hammers and some even bear resemblance to the Christian cross. We know that the Christian cross exerted great influence on the pagan symbol; and some images show its transformation into a cross (Paulsen 1956, 217).
Paulsen also points out (1956, 205) that stylistically the forms of miniature axes, miniature hammers and miniature crosses flow into one another.15 I suggest that the object known as ‘Þórr’s hammer’ represents a middle stage between the axe blade and the cross. Paulsen observes with regard to axes (1956, 233): ‘In the Viking Age we recognise the axe . . . as the symbol of battle, of power, of dignity, of legality, ownership, and salvation’ (my translation). I suggest that it was the axe blade and not the hammer which symbolised loyalty to the pagan faith. The hammer, therefore, did not replace the ancient image of the axe blade in the jewellery. It has been claimed that the custom of wearing amulets was stimu- lated by the Christian custom of wearing the Christian cross. The wearing of amulets, was, however, an established tradition among the Germanic peoples. Hundreds of golden bracteates, showing scenes of cultic significance, for instance, which testify to the popularity of the practice, have been discovered and ascribed to the Migratory period.
A sign, actually named Þórshamarr, does, in fact, exist in Norse tradition; it resembles a swastika. Such signs are found on archaic artifacts, on boundary markers, on runic stones, and on the bracteates of the Middle Ages. The sign occurs in many regions of the world, and does not seem to have originated in the North of Europe. We may assume that here an important sign became attached to an important god (de Vries 1956–57, II 127). It has no relation to a hammer and here we find an example of an object, designated by the noun hamarr, which has no link with the craftsman’s tool. If we assume that Þórr’s weapon was visualised in many forms we may wonder why one noun was so consistently and unvaryingly applied. We may also search for the underlying reason.
My investigation of the noun hamarr has led me to the following conclusion: the noun has another meaning,‘stone’; Þórr’s weapon was originally a stone or a tool of stone; the old name was kept when his emblem was conceived in various ways. The Old Icelandic hamarr is possibly traceable to an Indo-European root *(a)kam- with the meaning ‘pointed’, ‘sharp’, ‘stone’. We thus find Sanskrit ás ́man- ‘stone, rock’, Lithuanian akmuõ ‘stone’, Greek ákmon– ‘anvil’, Old Slavonic kamy ‘stone weapon’, Avestan asman- ‘stone, heaven’, Old High German hamar ‘hammer’, ‘hammer used as a weapon’, Old Icelandic hamarr ‘crag, rock, cliff’ (de Vries 1962, 207; Ásgeir Blöndal Magnússon 1989, 303).
The meanings indicate that the craftsman’s tool, the ‘hammer’, was originally a stone. This indication is verified by archaeology. Flattened stones without handles have been excavated in Denmark near places where iron smelting took place as late as the last centuries before the Christian era, together with stone anvils to work the iron which was gained from swamps (fig. 6 on p. 350 below; Brøndsted 1957–60, III 113). Germanic speech thus retained the name of the simpler tool after it had been replaced by the shafted instrument of wood and iron. If we apply the sense of ‘stone’ to the noun hamarr and remember that the god’s name corresponds to English ‘thunder’, we may under- stand the phrase ‘Þórr’s hammer’ to be the linguistic counterpart to English ‘thunderstone’, German Donnerstein, Dutch dondersteen, Danish tordensten, Norwegian torestein. These names are given to certain Stone Age relics through which in folk belief thunder was created, and they may lead us to trace a connection between Þórr’s weapon and the ancient concept of the thunderstone.
The belief that thunder and lightning are caused by a stone which falls to earth from heaven is apparent in a great number of traditions. The agent is identified with prehistoric artifacts of stone, stone chisels and stone axes, and also fossils which are encountered in the fields. The belief has kept its vitality in the Germanic area into modern times. It is thought that in its fall the object becomes deeply embedded in the earth and that it will slowly rise to the surface. Wonderful qualities are attributed to such a stone. It is treasured, put in a special place within the house, hung up near the chimney or beneath the roof, or set on the shelf for storing milk. Above all, it will protect the house against lightning, but it may also guard the health of cattle, or keep the trolls from harming men.17
We have noted that the concrete form of the talisman is identified with prehistoric artifacts of stone. It is only natural that many names should be recorded for a significant element of folk belief, and some of these will be cited here. We find Danish tordenbolt, tordenkile, tordenkølle, dönnesten, tordensten, Sebedeje, Swedish thorvigge, thorenvigg, godviggen, thornkilen, thornskil, gomorsten, thorensten, askvig, oskpil, Norwe- gian torestein, torelod, dynestein, toreblyg, Dutch donderbeitel, donderkeil, dondersteen, German Schurstein, Donneraxt, Donnerkeil, Donnerhammer, English thunderbolt, thunderaxe, thunderhammer, thunderstone, thunderflone.18 Some of the names that have archaic forms have an archaic sense, and we cannot be completely sure of their meaning. We have some certainty, however, that the weapon was visualised as a stone, an axe, an arrow (English bolt, Danish bolt, Swedish pil), as a wedge (German Keil, Danish kile, Norwegian blyg, Dutch keil), a club (Danish kølle), a chisel (Dutch beitel), or a round ball (Norwegian lod). We may observe that Iceland, alone in the Germanic area, does not evince a belief in thunderstones (though one instance has been recorded). Notions concerning the concept are also rare in northern Norway.
Thunderstorms are infrequent in northern Norway and are exceptional in Iceland. The tradition might have been forgotten or might never have developed (cf. Blinkenberg 1911b, 93). The objects encountered in these places are all of stone, and they represent, as a wedge, a bolt, a knife or a chisel, the kind of utensil which had originated in pre-metal times. We find the semantic equivalent of the Germanic name ‘thunderstone’ in the Lithuanian Perkuno akmuõ (Perkun is the god of thunder), Moravian kámen hromovi, French pierre de tonnerre, Spanish piedra de rayo, Portuguese pedra de raio, Italian pietra de truono, ancient Greek keraunía líthos.
As in the Germanic area, the name may indicate that the lethal missile was envisaged as a Stone Age tool, as in Greek astropoléki, ‘sky-axe’, or as a weapon, as in Hungarian Isten mjila, ‘god’s arrow’ (Blinkenberg 1911b, 99 (wrongly printed Iften), 107)."
