Monday, June 25, 2018

The Myth of Fire

The Nephilim were on the earth in those days - and also afterward - when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them.  They were the heroes of old, men of renown.

-Genesis 6:4

Where would mankind be without fire?  We wouldn't cook, keep warm, sing cheesy songs, or - and this is the most shocking revelation of all - toast marshmallows.  But if I were a betting man, I would bet that one thing few of us ever contemplate is how fire was “invented” (or, perhaps more accurately, “discovered”) in the first place.  And when we do, I think we tend to have an almost comical view of the process.  Maybe we picture a very frightened caveman being surprised when a lightning bolt strikes a tree and the tree bursts into flames.  As the caveman feels the heat radiating from the tree, his eyes widen in understanding.  Grabbing a flaming branch and making grunting sounds, he runs off in the direction of his cave-dwelling family, and, amidst their cries and screams of pain, proudly burns them.  Later, they forgive him when they eat their first bite of flame-broiled mastodon. 

Or maybe we picture a group of primitive men rubbing sticks together, just for fun (movies weren't around yet), and out pops a little smoke and a small flame.  Excited, the men promptly singe their eyebrows as they lean in for a closer look. 

These are silly, I know, but they’re fairly close to what I have always pictured as the “discovery of fire.”  But what if those visions are wrong?  What if the discovery wasn’t an accident, but was brought to us by one of a race - hear me out - of ancient giants? 

In the Greek story of Prometheus, the Titan and his brother, Epimetheus, combined their resources and created the world, dividing the work between them.  As it turned out, the two brothers were somewhat wasteful so that by the time they came to the creation of man, they were out of the resources they needed in order to set man apart from the animals.  So Prometheus, being a little bit on the mischievous side (one of his epithets was “trickster”), ascended into heaven, grabbed part of the sun, and brought it back to earth (he is commonly depicted as holding a flaming torch), giving fire to mankind.  The gods were angry with this and, after the Titan War, Prometheus was chained to a rock, where his liver was eaten out daily (it regenerated each night so as to be eaten again the next day). 
An important note to keep in mind is that the name Prometheus comes from the Greek pro (before) and manthano (to learn).  In essence, his name means “Before Learning,” and so it is clear that to the Greeks, Prometheus and his stunt with fire occurred very early in earth’s history.
Halfway around the world in Alaska, we find the Tsimshian legend of Giant and the .  Giant, who is bored and (also) mischievous, descends from his perch in the clouds, landing on the newly-formed earth.  For fun, he creates some fish (still no movies), some islands, and some fruit trees, and then he steals something known as the .  This angers the gods, who give chase and, when things go south and it looks like he's going to get caught, Giant breaks the , bringing the sun and its light to earth.  This action earns Giant the name of Txǟ’msem, or “liar.”

So here’s what we have so far: 

• in both legends, a supernatural, god-like giant creates part of our world
• in both legends, the giant is known as either a “trickster” or “liar” (the two words are    
   synonymous in many languages and cultures)
• in both legends he brings either “fire,” or “sunlight” to mankind – either way, it involves the   sun
• in both legends, he does so early in earth’s history, but after there were people
• in both legends, his actions anger the other gods

            Is this just a coincidence, or are we seeing Telephone Mythology at work, pointing back to a time when mankind was brought fire from these “men of renown”?  Now, to be fair, the stories are different enough that I would have simply assumed this was coincidence if I hadn’t stumbled across the Vedic hymn devoted to Agni, the Hindu god of fire.
            In the legend, Agni brings celestial fire down to earth, giving it to Bhrigus, one of the foremost of the Ŗsis (the Ŗsis were a group of wise and learned sages who, at least in the literature, appear to be immortal.  Their function was to carry education - that is, the tools of language, mathematics, engineering, and the arts - down through the ages, in order to restore civilization each time the earth is destroyed).  The tool Agni uses to do this is called a pramantha.  It is a stick used to stir the cauldrons of the Brahmins, and is often a symbol for various mystical concepts.

So now we can add the following information to this list:

• In one legend, fire is brought by a giant named Prometheus, in a different legend, it is   
   brought down using a tool called by an eerily similar name.

Now, I’m just speculating here, but we might possibly have a large insight into the ancient world.  Could it be – not do we know for sure – but could it be possible that the means of creating fire was invented or discovered by an early giant?  Is it possible that this giant then shared his discovery with the rest of mankind?  If so, wouldn’t that act then make him a “[hero] of old” in the minds of other humans?  Would that action have sparked jealousy among his fellow giants, perhaps stirring up hatred – even racism – between the two groups?  Is it possible that this story was passed on from generation to generation, throughout the Diaspora, changing into varied, but still similar, forms? 
            
 To my knowledge, this is not a question that has ever been explored.  Perhaps we would rather picture the cavemen roasting their mastodons, trading one fantasy for what we consider another, more “reasonable” one.  The fact remains that speculation is speculation, no matter how reasonable it may seem, but based on the literary evidence, it seems far more likely that mankind received the gift of fire, not from an accident, but from a giant.

While we have to be careful not to begin assuming that every story we read is true, three separate cultures depicting three very similar stories (with very similar words and concepts) is a difficult coincidence to swallow.  Though the Bible is rather mum on what it means to be one of these "heroes of old and men of renown," it is not too far-fetched to wonder if part of this renown involved giving us the means to stay warm and cook our food.  And, while I find it highly unlikely that some giant traveled to the sun in order to bring us fire, this does not immediately negate the possibility that their discovery of fire helped out the rest of us.    

Monday, June 11, 2018

The Queen of the Serpents (Repost)

I posted this myth many years ago, but I thought it was worth another go.


Once there was a fisherman who had a beautiful daughter, named Egle.  Egle used to bathe in the sea every morning.  Once, as she emerged from the sea and went to gather her clothes, a large serpent rose up out of the folds of the garment and spoke to her.

"If you will marry me," he hissed, "I will return your clothes."

"But how could I, a woman, marry a serpent?" Egle asked, distraught.

"Then you will be shamed by your nakedness," the crafty serpent replied.  So Egle consented, and took the serpent home to meet her family.  Her father and brothers treated it poorly, but to no avail, for the next day, a hundred serpents were waiting in the yard of the fisherman's hut, all of them having come to take part in the wedding of their beloved Prince (for that is who the serpent was, the Prince of the serpents). 

And so the two of them were married, and the Prince took his bride to his castle under the water.  There, he transformed into a handsome young man, and Egle was very glad she had married him.  By and by, the King died, and her husband, Zilvinas, became King of the serpents.  The King (and now the Queen), soon had three beautiful children, and all lived quite happily.  But by and by, Egle became homesick, and asked to see her family.

Zilvinas agreed, and told his wife that she could return tot he surface for as long as she wished.  When it was time for her to come home, she only had to speak his name, and he would send a wave to carry them back to the Kingdom.  "But," he said, "if the wave is bloody, then you know I have died, and you must not come here again."

So Egle and her children went to see her father and brothers.  But the brothers were cruel, and beat the half-human children.  Egle begged them to stop, but they would not rest until they learned the secret of how to kill Zilvinas.  In her distress, she told them how to summon him, and the brothers went to the seashore and called out to him.  He appeared, and they killed him.

Egle, however, did not know what they had done, and, seeing an opportunity to escape, she grabbed her children and ran to the seashore.  She called for her husband, but the wave that washed ashore was bloody, and she knew what had happened.  In her despair, she cried out that she and her children might be turned into trees, and the gods listened to her and obeyed.