© Lloyd

__VOL VII, No 7 Oct 31, 2003

MYTH By Ev Cochrane

Why should anyone care about ancient myth? The answer, quite simply, is that for untold centuries myth served as the primary means of recording and communicating man's fundamental ideas regarding the nature of the cosmos and the sacred. In this sense, ancient myth represents an intellectual heirloom encapsulating the history of our species and is thus a ripe field of study for all students of evolutionary psychology. If, as appears to be the case, myth also preserves important clues for reconstructing the recent history of our solar system its study becomes all the more essential.

Modern scholars have defined myth as a sacred history purporting to describe the origin of the world and mankind's various cultural institutions. Mircea Eliade would emphasize myth's central function in ancient (and so-called primitive) cultures:

"One fact strikes us immediately: in such societies the myth is thought to express the absolute truth, because it narrates a sacred history; that is, a transhuman experience revelation which took place at the dawn of the Great Time, in the holy time of the beginnings (in illo tempore). Being real and sacred, the myth becomes exemplary, and consequently repeatable, for it serves as a model, and by the same token as a justification, for all human actions. In other words, a myth is a true history of what came to pass at the beginning of Time, and one which provides the pattern for human behaviour. Clearly, what we are dealing with here is a complete reversal of values; whilst current language confuses the myth with 'fables', a man of the traditional societies sees it as the only valid revelation of reality."

Countless myths, according to Eliade, commemorate the Creation, the latter regarded by ancient man as something that "really happened, as an event that took place, in the plain sense of the term." Intimately related to this widespread idea that Creation was something actually experienced and witnessed is a corollary belief — that a great catastrophe brought down the curtain on the paradisiacal conditions which formerly prevailed during a remembered Golden Age.

Yet as insightful and compelling as Eliade's analysis of myth proves to be, there is one gaping hole in the argument: No explanation is offered for the origin of the specific mythical themes uncovered — e.g., Creation, the Golden Age, epoch-ending catastrophe, the primeval hieros gamos, etc. This question is directly related to another major flaw plaguing most modern theories of ancient myth; namely, their general inability to explain the recurrence of mythical themes around the globe. Levi-Strauss emphasized this problem in an essay on myth many years ago: "How are we going to explain the fact that myths throughout the world are so similar?"

Particularly troubling are those bizarre details of ancient myth that don't make sense in the real world: flying, fire-breathing dragons, for example; the dwarf-like hero who suddenly assumes a gigantic form; the birth of the warrior-hero from the "heart" of the mother goddess; and countless others. One is naturally inclined to attribute such motifs to creative imagination and fictional storytelling, but this "explanation" runs up against an insuperable difficulty: These seemingly meaningless and impossible motifs are likewise to be found around the globe. As Levi-Strauss emphasized, it is very difficult to understand how creative imagination could explain such recurring motifs:

"Mythic stories are, or seem, arbitrary, meaningless, absurd, yet nevertheless they seem to reappear all over the world. A 'fanciful' creation of the mind in one place would be unique — you would not find the same creation in a completely different place."

There would appear to be but three possible explanations for the presence of such recurring motifs:

(1)They originated in creative imagination and subsequently became diffused around the globe;

(2)They are natural products of the human mind;

(3)They have some reference to celestial phenomena, observed and commemorated in mythical language by ancient man the world over.

For reasons which will become clear, the third explanation is the only one which is compatible with the evidence and, indeed, it forms the cornerstone of the Saturn theory.

[ed note: visit Cochrane's recently up-dated website for this introduction to myth and links (at the bottom of the page) to further articles about the Saturn theory. Buttons at the top of the page connect you to sections from Cochrane's Mars and Venus books, and information for purchasing them.]

THE WEBSITE:

http://www.maverickscience.com/Myth/myth.html

ARTICLE LINKS INCLUDE:

The Stairway to Heaven Samson Revealed On Thundergods and Thunderbolts

Ev Cochrane www.maverickscience.com/

__VOL II, No. 10 June 15, 1998

THE MEANING OF MYTH Ev Cochrane

Why should anyone care about the message of ancient myth? The most obvious reason, perhaps, is that myth served the role of history, science, literature, and entertainment for many centuries prior to the appearance of advanced civilizations and the development of writing. A study of ancient myth, consequently, will tell us a great deal about the intellectual life of early man. If for no other reason, this should ensure that modern scholars pay careful attention to the favorite myths of our for[e]bears.

There are many different approaches to the study of ancient myth — naturist, Freudian, Jungian, structuralist, etc. No doubt each of the various schools of thought has valid points to make. My own approach to myth attempts to make sense of the ancient traditions surrounding the various celestial bodies. It is well-known, in fact, that the earliest religions of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Mesoamerica were characterized by a preoccupation with celestial phenomena. Of the latter culture, David Kelley has observed:

"It has been clear to all serious students of Mesoamerican culture that there was an intimate relationship between astronomical knowledge, the calendar, and religious beliefs and rituals."

Much the same point could be made with respect to all ancient cultures. Wherever one looks, one finds the same fascination with the heavenly bodies. Throughout the ancient world, for example, comets were looked upon as objects of terror and ominous portent, their appearance said to herald the downfall of kingdoms and the death of kings. The opinion of Synesius, an author of the fourth century A. D., may be taken as typical: "And whenever these comets appear, they are an evil portent, which the diviners and soothsayers appease. They assuredly foretell public disasters, enslavements of nations, desolations of cities, deaths of kings."

Eclipses, similarly, were thought to signal the imminent end of the world, anxious skywatchers performing all sorts of bizarre rituals to appease and banish the evil spirits responsible for the all-encompassing darkness.

How is it possible to understand such widespread beliefs? Modern astronomers, accustomed to seeing comets and eclipses come and go without catastrophic consequences — much less the end of the world! — quite naturally approach these ancient beliefs with a measure of incredulity, much as adults view a child's belief in the bogeyman or Santa Claus. Scholars of ancient myth, likewise, have typically understood such beliefs as the expression of ancient man's primitive mentality and prescientific understanding of the cosmos. Yet such a view overlooks the fact that similar beliefs were common well into the modern period — in this century, in fact — and were shared by the scientific elite of most ancient civilizations. Thus the possibility must be considered that the problem in understanding is not with the ancients, rather with the preconceptions of modern astronomers.

There have been scant few scholars who took seriously the ancient reports of death — bringing comets and apocalyptic eclipses. Among the few who did — Whiston, Vico, Radlof, Donnelly, Beaumont, and Kugler — it was Immanuel Velikovsky who did the most to popularize (some would say discredit forever) the notion that the ancient reports are worthy of careful attention. In WORLDS IN COLLISION, Velikovsky set the stage for a revolution in comparative mythology by suggesting that universally recurring mythical images — such as the war-god, fire-breathing dragon, and witch — reflect ancient man's attempt to commemorate terrifying cataclysms associated with planetary agents.

Nearly twenty years of research has convinced me that Velikovsky was on the right track and that the modern astronomer's refusal to acquaint himself with the message of ancient myth will prove to be a most glaring omission.

Velikovsky posed the following question: Why would ancient peoples on both sides of the Atlantic describe the planet Venus in terms otherwise appropriate for a comet-hair-star, serpent-star, bearded star, smoking star, etc. — if its appearance had always remained the same? And why would ancient peoples around the globe associate this planet with destruction and ill omen if it had always behaved in its present peaceful fashion? This anomaly is made all the more difficult to understand given the fact that several of the cultures who preserved such traditions — the Babylonians and the Maya, for example — were justly renowned as careful observers of the celestial bodies in general and obsessed with the movements of Venus in particular. Despite the fact that nearly 50 years have elapsed since the publication of Worlds in Collision, Velikovsky's question has yet to receive a satisfactory answer.

A key to the proper understanding of ancient archaeoastronomical traditions is the comparative method. As long as one's focus is confined to this or that culture, it is always tempting to dismiss the bizarre reports surrounding the respective celestial bodies as the product of primitive understanding, creative imagination, projection of religious practices, displacement, etc. Yet should the same bizarre conceptions be discovered in a distant culture — much less in cultures around the world — it stands to reason that the ancient reports begin to take on a certain credibility and bear further investigation.

An analogous situation, perhaps, surrounded the raging controversy in the nineteenth century over whether meteorites could fall to the earth from the sky. Ancient reports from around the world told of such meteoritic falls, yet astronomers of the past century dismissed them together with eyewitness reports of contemporary scientists because their worldview did not allow for the possibility that rocks might fall to the earth from heaven. As modern astronomy was eventually forced to accept the reality that meteorites did fall from heaven, so too, in our opinion, will it be forced to come to grips with Venus' cometary recent history. For in the final analysis it will be found that the mythology which came to surround comets had its origin in historical events associated with the planet Venus. Venus and comets share the same terminology and mythology for the simple reason that that planet once presented a comet-like appearance while participating in spectacular cataclysms witnessed around the world.

A survey of Venus' role in ancient myth and archaeoastronomy reveals one anomaly after another. Why was Venus described as the "Great Star"? Why was the star of Venus superimposed upon the disc of the ancient sun-god in ancient iconography? Why was the star of Venus placed within the upturned cusps of a crescent? Why was Venus described as the "Great Eye"? Why was Venus described as shining from the "midst" or "heart" of heaven, a position it could never reach in today's skies? Why was Venus regarded as the "witch-star"? Why was Venus regarded as the lover of Mars? Why was Venus regarded as the mother of Mars?

Equally baffling questions surround the planet Mars' role in ancient myth and archaeoastronomy. Throughout the ancient world, the appearance of Mars was said to portend war, destruction, and pestilence. Why this would be the case if Mars had always moved as it does now, in a perfectly regular, distant orbit, is not easy to understand.

Babylonian astronomical texts report that the red planet was regarded as the "eclipse-agent" par excellence. Other cultures likewise associate Mars with eclipses. Yet Mars' current orbit never brings it into a position whereby it could be viewed as eclipsing the sun.

The ancient reports surrounding Mars, like those surrounding Venus, can be shown to have historical precedents. Once grasp[ed,] the truth of this statement and the ancient reports suddenly take on an entirely new perspective and significance. The dignity of our forebears is restored in the process, as Hertha von Dechend was led to remark after a lifelong investigation of myth as astronomical allegory. As ancient myth informed the earliest efforts at understanding the movements of the respective heavenly bodies, so too will it inform the astronomy of the 21st century which will doubtless be firmly grounded in the reality of recent planetary catastrophism.

__VOL II, No. 11 June 30, 1998

NOTES ON THE COMPARATIVE METHOD By Ev Cochrane

The science of mythology, as I've come to practice it, has three primary components, each entirely dependent upon the comparative method: (1) the demonstration of parallels between the myths and mythical characters of different cultures; (2) the identification of various mythical characters with the respective planetary bodies (or in some cases, as in that of the Babylonian Sin, with some property of this or that planet); and (3) a reconstruction of the celestial scenario behind the respective myths — specifically, an analysis of the unique behavior or visual phenomena associated with the planets which gave rise to the particular myths/characters in question.

Although each of the three components should be considered necessary steps in a comprehensive analysis of myth, it is also true that each of the various stages of analysis may stand on their own. For example, our documentation of the numerous parallels which exist between Heracles, Nergal, and Indra remains valid whether or not one accepts our identification of these particular figures with the planet Mars. Similarly, even if one grants the possibility that Heracles and Indra are mythical twins, each modeled upon the planet Mars, it is always possible that some other explanation besides that of the polar configuration can be found to explain the red planet's peculiar mythical prominence (that of Velikovsky or de Santillana and von Dechend, for example).

Although a satisfactory analysis of a particular myth necessarily involves completion of each of these three steps, in actual practice — as in psychoanalysis — one rarely achieves a complete or perfect analysis. As with all historical reconstructions, there are always pieces of the puzzle which remain elusive. There are several reasons for this situation, including the fragmentary nature of the myths themselves; the intrusion of foreign elements into a cult resulting in a modification or confusion of the original myth; problems caused by the faulty transmission and/or translation of a particular myth; gaps in our knowledge regarding the chronology of the events surrounding the formation, evolution, and eventual dissolution of the polar configuration, etc.

Fortunately, most of these difficulties can be factored into the methodological equation or overcome/compensated for by the comparative method. For example, the fragmentary nature of the cult of Latin goddess Venus can be compensated for by comparative analysis of the extensive materials provided by the cult of Inanna. The possibility of foreign influence on the Latin cult of Mars, likewise, can be controlled to some extent by comparison with the cults of Babylonian Nergal and Aztec Tezcatlipoca.

In actual practice one also finds that there is frequently a discrepancy in the degree of resolution of the respective steps of analysis. Typically step three lags far behind the other two steps as the details and chronology of the formation, evolution, and eventual dissolution of the polar configuration continue to be worked out. In a relatively new field of science this is only to be expected.

Comparative mythology, in addition to being the proper starting point of any successful exegesis of myth, is also the most crucial step in the analytic process. It must always take precedence over actual planetary identifications, whether anciently attested or not. Planetary identification, although relatively reliable in the hands of an expert, remains a tricky business in light of the contradictory testimony of the ancients themselves. Not only are the planetary identifications necessarily later than the myths themselves, many cultures never attained proficiency in astronomy and thus their statements — frequently made to modern-day anthropologists and folklorists themselves ignorant of astronomy and the comparative method — can often be misleading. Nor are the most ancient astronomies always to be trusted. Even at the outset of formal astronomy, as it is represented in ancient Babylon, for example, one finds an entirely artificial system whereby various gods are identified with this or that planet or constellation. It would be methodologically unsound to accept these statements at face value. Only by comparing the Babylonian identifications with those from cultures free of its sphere of influence, such as Mesoamerica, is it possible to arrive at reliable equations.

A corollary to the first rule: One should never attempt to construct a theory on the basis of a planetary identification. Rather, a planetary identification should only be attempted upon concluding a thorough and detailed comparative analysis of a particular myth, hero, or god. This would appear to be an ironclad rule of mythological exegesis.