Mysteries

The Mysteries: To Possess the Present

The Eleusinian Mysteries were secret religious rites of Ancient Greece that were held in Eleusis in honor of the principal goddesses of the cult, Demeter and her daughter Kore, or Persephone. It was believed to have been established sometime around 1500 BC and held great significance in ancient Greek culture until around 395 AD when Christianity began to exert its influence. The initiation rites into the cult were known as the Mysteries. The Lesser Mysteries occurred annually, and it was only through their completion someone would be deemed mystai and could then witness the Greater Mysteries held every five years. The Mysteries are represented by the abduction of Persephone by Hades in a cycle of three phases – the “decent” or loss, the “search” by Demeter, and the “ascent” of Persephone as Queen of the Dead and her reunion with her mother. Little is known about exactly what was involved during the rites, though it can be inferred that something was recited, something was revealed, and acts were done. The mysteries were kept secret from all but the participants. Only initiates knew what the kiste, a sacred chest, and the kalathos, a lidded basket, contained.

According to the Homeric Hymn, after the abduction of Persephone by Hades and her subsequent descent into the Underworld, Demeter searched for her daughter and eventually learned that she had been taken by Hades with the consent of Zeus. Enraged, she denounces the Gods and decides to live amongst men. She comes across the palace at Eleusis and in the form of an old woman she befriends the Royal family and helps to raise the young Prince. She attempts to make the boy immortal but is thwarted by the Queen – Demeter was recognized as a Goddess and commissioned the building of a temple and alter in her honor. After this, though, she secludes herself becomes immersed in mourning for her lost daughter. She causes a terrible drought that would have caused the human race to perish had Zeus not intervened and offered her a compromise –he would return her daughter, but because Persephone consumed food while in the Underworld, she must return there for four months of the year, depending upon the myth and the number of pomegranate seeds she ate. It is during those months that Demeter mourns the loss of her daughter which corresponds to the loss of vegetation and no growth.

It is from the core of this myth which lays the principle of the Eleusinian Mysteries – fertility and growth are bound with death. Without death, there would be no procreation. The rites perhaps serve as a representation of man receiving fertility from the hand of death. Those who participated were believed to look forward to a better place in the afterlife.

In taking the viewpoint of an initiate, we have to ask ourselves, “What have we gained from this experience and what have we lost in the pain and initiation in mystery?” An initiation of a different sort can be viewed in John Fowles’ The Magus, that of the decent into mystery of Nicolas at Bourani. To understand this journey, we must first understand the roles of the players. The concept of the Magician plays a unique role in history and literature. In Tarot, the Magician or the Magus can mean power, skill, manipulation and resourcefulness. The number of the Magician is one, the number of beginnings. Above his head is the symbol for infinity and around his waist a snake biting its own tail. In his right hand is a wand which points towards heaven; his left hand points toward Earth. This gesture relates to the Mysteries and symbolizes the Magician’s ability to bridge the gap between heaven and earth. His robe is white, representing purity and innocence, while his red cloak tells of worldly knowledge and experience. At his feet are both Lilies and Roses, also white and red. Finally, the Magician is often represented by Mercury, the patron god of eloquence, communication, and trickery. Funnily enough, the Fool compliments the Magician in card combinations. The Fool can represent new opportunities, pleasure, thoughtlessness, and indecision. The card is unnumbered, though sometimes represented as zero. He is shown to be lost in his own thoughts and walking near the edge of a cliff, seemingly oblivious to the danger.

The Magician and the Fool give an accurate representation of Conchis and Nicolas as characters, as well as their role in the story. Conchis is able to reel him in because of the mystery Bourani presents. Nicolas keeps returning, no matter the abuse he suffers, because of his desperation for answers – answers he never receives. For it is when the mystery is unraveled that it no longer holds any power. And though eventually Nicolas’ time in Greece comes to an end, it may not be considered the end of his journey. In his descent into the realm of mystery, he loses many things – his pride, many of his beliefs, perhaps part of his sanity. But he has also gained something infinitely more precious, though whether he comes to appreciate and grow from the experience is entirely up to him.

The place of mystery in the contemporary world is understated. This may be viewed as good, as mystery should be subtle, yet its importance is subsequently becoming overshadowed by the scientific method. Logic functions on a different plane of thought where the shadows cast by mystery are no longer awe inspiring and thought provoking, no, simply frustrating and must be cast under the light to be dissected and understood. It is hard angles and dimensions where mystery is flowing lines that twist upon themselves and lead you right back to where you began. The mystery lies in the act of filling in the blank spots of a map with previously undiscovered isles and uncharted waters; it is in the completed work that sits finished above the mantle, now a statement of fact and eternally unchanging, where science lies. Answers lead to more questions, yet the questions themselves should be cherished – not as a means to an end, but simply as itself, existing in a realm of uncertainty and possibility.

From Apocalypse and/or Metamorphosis by Norman O. Brown, "Mysteries display themselves in words only if they can remain concealed" (3). Poetry is perhaps the best example of this concept. Poetry is veiled truth; each person has a different reading of a poem, all of which could be attributed to their personal views on a subject, their mood while reading, etc. Each person receives something individual to their understanding of the world from it. What the author intended as the 'meaning', if there was indeed one intended, is irrelevant. Poetry is dynamic, and what a person can get from a poem may change even from one reading to the next. Richard Hugo's The Triggering Town makes an excellent point on the relationship between the meaning behind words and their ability to convey information:

Let's take language that exists to communicate--the news story. In a news story the words are there to give you information about the event. […] Once you have the information, the words seem unimportant. By understanding the words […] you seem to deaden them. In the news article the relation of the words to the subject […] is a strong one. The relation of the words to the writer is so weak that for our purposes it isn't worth consideration. When you write a poem these relations must reverse themselves. That is, the relation of the words to the subject must weaken and the relation of the words to the writer (you) must take on strength. (Hugo 11)

Hugo cautions against direct communication because once language exists only to convey information, it becomes dead. A similar concept is explored within Arcadia. It is the uncertainty within the language that leaves us the greatest room for interpretation and therefore the greatest chance for discovery. A statement of fact is simply that, and nothing more, but when mystery and uncertainty become involved the words can grow to become something beyond themselves. It is in this sense that poetry may convey information to us indirectly – uncertainty allows for the words to breathe and take a life of their own, and the only limit behind how much may be gained is that of the imagination of the reader.

“Kubla Khan” may be used as a brief example. It is best known for its beautiful sound and meter and because of this is sometimes thought to be composed of sound rather than sense. The ‘meaning’ behind the poem has been argued relentlessly – on a more literal level, it can be read as the speaker’s personal thoughts on Xanadu and  their admiration of the nature and imagery that surrounds them. On a different level, a more erotic undertone can be found woven throughout, or perhaps on a third level it can be read as a celebration of creativity and a poet’s connection to the universe through imagination. Again, this all depends on the reader and circumstances. There is a mystical quality to the poem that certainly adds to the mysterious ambiance it creates. Xanadu, or Shangdu, was the summer capital of Kublai Khan's Yuan Empire and after it was visited in 1275 by Marco Polo it became known as a foreign paradise associated with opulence and beauty. Xanadu is a paradise, Arcadia, but we cannot forget those caves of ice that lurk beneath, because was it not Dante who envisioned the lowest level of hell as a frozen wasteland? The River Alph likely refers to the River Alpheus in mythology, and Mount Abora is suggested to have come from Mount Amara in John Milton's Paradise Lost. Within the poem there is also a sense of prophecy that is hinted upon several times. "A damsel with a dulcimer/ In a vision once I saw" establishes a dreamlike expectation for the following lines. The entirety of the poem holds a sense of the imaginary and ethereal, but visions in history and literature are known for being vague and easily misinterpreted, which can certainly be applied to the last stanza. The fact that the poem is unfinished certainly adds yet another layer of uncertainty for us. There is no end, or at least no visible conclusion. What was to come next? We will never know, but it can be appreciated that by having no distinct ending, the last lines "For he on honey-dew hath fed/ And drunk the milk of paradise" draws us in and keeps us thinking and wondering. All of the information we need to understand it is there, but hidden; veiled. The possibilities are endless, and therefore each reading is a new one.

All in all, I think the conclusion may be reached that there are mysteries all around us, and that life is itself a mystery that must be experienced rather than solved. And that is what lies at the heart of this class: keep the mysteries alive, always ask questions and never let the answers slow you down; instead allow them to serve as a beginning. At the heart of mystery, it is essential that

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one. (Eliot)