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Parallel Conclusions About Marzanna/ Morana in Two Slavic Mythology Books

Hello everyone,

This is T.D. Kokoszka, author of “Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods.” I have decided to start re-using this blog now that my book has been published. Previously, a lot of posts were removed because they contained information that was reserved for publication. Moving forward, I actually would like to use this blog site to post retrospective and supplementary comments about my work.

For those who don’t know, my book was published in 2023. It contains over 400 pages of detailed analysis of Slavic folklore, Indo-European studies, and relevant medieval manuscripts. There are over 700 footnoted citations in all. It comes off as a very “academic” work, despite being a book intended primarily for neopagans. As for myself, I have no formal qualifications. I do touch briefly on the fact that I hold a B.S. in Microbiology, and some analysis of ancient DNA research does feature in the first chapter.

Despite all of this, I do make the case that certain scholars from the Soviet period reached flawed conclusions about Slavic mythology. The book contains criticisms of scholars like Ivanov and Toporov, as well as Katicic and Belaj. For example, Katicic and Belaj believed that Jarilo married his sister, Morana, on Summer Solstice. But in many Balkan traditions, like those of Bulgaria, the Summer Solstice holiday is associated with the personified sun and his sister- the morning star. In my book, I argue that the folk-narratives that Katicic and Belaj examined relate to the sun and his two sisters- one of whom is the morning star, or dawn goddess.

Because of my own unorthodox background, it is very significant to me that a qualified scholar has apparently reached a very similar conclusion about Katicic and Belaj’s work. Particularly, the cyclical myth reconstructed by them involving Morana and Jarilo.

As it turns out, I am not the first to present an argument like this. Apparently in August of 2022, three months after I submitted my own manuscript to John Hunt Publishing, a book was published by Michał Łuczyński, who is fairly qualified. At a minimum, he is apparently a PhD Student of Jagiellonian University, in Kraków. He holds the position of Chair in General and Indo-European Linguistics, and his book is titled “Mity Słowian. Śladami świętych opowieści przodków.” On page 144 of Mity Słowian, a very similar argument is laid out. The section is titled “Wesele Jutrzenki.” (The marriage of the dawn)

Essentially, what has happened is that Michał Łuczyński and I have independently reached the conclusion that Katicic and Belaj examined narratives about the dawn goddess without realizing it, and in some cases, misidentified her with the personification of death. Both books are shown below. One is in Polish, and the other is in English, which means that comparing and contrasting the two parallel arguments could be quite challenging. But I believe this is something that must be done.

Mity Słowian. Śladami świętych opowieści przodków ( Michał Łuczyński 2022)

Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods (T.D. Kokoszka 2023)

There are differences between the two books. I believe that Łuczyński calls Marzanna/ Morana herself the dawn goddess. In my book, I argue that Morana was a death goddess who had a sister who embodied dawn/morning, and who was the exact opposite of Morana. For the record, there are relevant folktales that clearly talk about two opposing female figures. In my book, I discuss the Russian folktale titled “The Witch and the Sister of the Sun” which clearly captures this juxtaposition of the two Goddesses. Another such narrative is “The Milk of the Wild Beasts.”

At the root of the confusion appears to be the fact that the words for “sea” and “death” sound very similar throughout the Indo-European language family. This goes all the way back to Proto-Indo-European *mer – (die) and *mori (sea or wetland). In any case, I have spoken with Łuczyński online, and he has affirmed his position that the the Goddess “Marzanna” should be connected with the word for sea. And this is all highly relevant to the dawn goddess, who in Slavic mythology is often called Zorya Utrennyaya or Dennitsa. In many Slavic countries, this figure comes to be referred to as a sea maiden (e.g. Moryana) or she acquires the Christian name of “Maria.”

In any case, I highly recommend that anyone who can read the two books (in Polish and English) please do so. They appear to be totally independent arguments for a very similar reinterpretation of Slavic mythology. And if you find yourself reading my book and wondering how I could be the first person to “discover” the connection between Morana and the dawn Goddess, you should know that I apparently wasn’t.

Grandfather Frost, Veles, and the Bear

It has been a while since I drafted a lot of the content in “Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods.” This book was published about a year ago, in August 2023. And much of it was actually written in 2022, or even (in part) 2021. The good news is that there’s very little in the book that I would outright reject in hindsight.

My main frustration is that I have uncovered a few important points that would have greatly strengthened the central arguments of the book. Perhaps the greatest examples of this have already been posted. For more on these examples, see the two previous WordPress posts:

Since posting these two WordPress articles, I’ve also come to the discovery that some of my arguments relating to Veles or Volos could have included more evidence. In my book, I stress the connection between Veles and Mokosh. This is most evident in their connection to the last sheaf of grain harvested in the field, as well as their associations with spinning and the cold season. In particular, when discussing Mokosh, I draw connections to Frau Holle and Baba Yaga, and to stories of Aarne-Thompson Type 480- The Kind Girl and the Unkind Girl. For the sake of coherence, perhaps it’s best that I revisit some of this material.

In many European countries, stories of Aarne-Thompson Type 480 are associated with a hag or witch like the German Frau Holle or the Russian Baba Yaga. Frau Holle is also mostly synonymous with Frau Perchta. These are folkloric German Goddess figures associated with spinning and the Christmas season. In Horselberg (Germany) flax was placed upon the distaff at Christmas time when Frau Holle was said to start her rounds, because she promised a good year for every thread. But it was believed that the flax must be spun by the Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas, or else Holle promised a bad year for every thread. Her southern counterpart, Perchta also punished those who spun at the spindle during forbidden times. (1) In some German narratives, the Roggenmuhme or Rye Aunt (a type of grain spirit) would punish women for not clearing their distaff, much in the same manner as Frau Holle. (2)

We see something very similar with the Slavic Goddess Mokosh. Folk beliefs about Mokosh were preserved in the Russian North into the 20th century. According to these folk traditions, the “Mokusha” was a spirit who punished women for violating prohibitions on spinning. (3) And as I note in my book, there is evidence of a very similar connection where Veles is concerned.

In short, we can make the argument that Mokosh is closely related to Frau Holle and Perchta, who are both associated with the winter season. In my book, I explain that one of the major attributes of these Goddesses was their connection to folktales of Aarne-Thompson Type 480 (AT 480: The Kind Girl and the Unkind Girl). This is an international fairy tale type that I argue the Slavic Goddess Mokosh was associated with, as well as Frau Holle. (4) Basically, AT 480 stories are stories where one girl visits a witch or hag in the woods and is rewarded. Generally, the “unkind” girl follows after the heroine and receives only punishments.

But it is not always a witch or hag who features in these stories. Sometimes it is a male figure. Here, I would like to quote “The Tale of the Kind and the Unkind Girls AA-TH 480 and Related Titles” by Warren Everett Roberts. (5)

“In another tale the stepdaughter encounters not Morozko but a lesij [a wood goblin], in still another, a bear. But surely it is the same tale! Morozko, the lešij, and the bear test the stepdaughter and reward her each in his own way, but the plot does not change.”

Here once again, we see an odd connection between AT 480 stories and a personification of the cold season. The German Frau Holle and Perchta are the witches of midwinter, governing the Christmas season. Morozko is the Russian “Grandfather Frost” so this all tracks in Russia as well. But I wish that I had included this reference, because it ties together a number of core claims in my book:

  • Mokosh and Frau Holle are associated with folktales of AT 480 (on the Aarne-Thompson index of international folktale types)
  • Veles is in many ways the masculine counterpart of Mokosh (e.g. he also oversees taboos over spinning during the cold season.)
  • Veles embodies the cold half of the year, which was taken over by St. Nicholas in Christianized Slavic folk tradition. This made him the “opposite” of St. George.
  • Veles is associated with the Leshi (forest goblin) and with the bear.

These arguments might have been stronger if I had noted that Grandfather Frost, the leshi, and the bear were all connected to stories of AT 480- just as Mokosh and Frau Holle are. This is another case where I think I advanced the correct argument, but didn’t fully articulate why it made so much sense. To an extent, I deferred to the research of Upenskij, who was one of the major proponents for connecting Veles with the cult of the bear, and with St. Nicholas. But I didn’t fully understand how strong Upenskij’s case actually was.

I’ve also recently encountered another corroborating piece of evidence for linking Veles with the bear and with winter. In Poland, there is a well-known tradition of drowning Marzanna, the effigy personifying winter, during March 25. However, an interesting parallel can be seen in the Polish Easter (Śmigus-Dyngus) tradition of “drowning the bear.” I quote the following from “My Polish Grandmother: from Tragedy in Poland to her Rose Garden in America.” By Stephen Szabados. (6)

“In Przezdziecko, the boys would march through the villages, and one of them put on a bear costume with a bell on his head. The outfit was either real bearskin or a bear-like suit of pea vines. The group would collect gifts for the bear by going door to door, and later they would drown the bear in a nearby stream or pond.”

This tradition has a lot of parallels to the widespread Yule goat tradition, or to the Polish Turon, which I will not discuss here. The costumed animal going door to door is often seen during winter celebrations. So at a glance, it might be puzzling to see something similar during Easter. Except that in this case, the costume is later drowned, much like the Polish Marzanna effigy personifying winter. The apparent connection between the bear, Veles, and Grandfather Frost (Morozko) presents a compelling explanation for this Polish Easter tradition.

  1. The Magical and Sacred Medical World. United Kingdom, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2019. Page 300.
  2. Körner, Friedrich. Deutsche Götter und Göttersagen, soweit sie sich in Dichtung, Sprüchwort und Brauch lebendig erhalten haben: eine Vorschule zum Verständniß der deutschen Literatur. Germany, L. Douffet, 1877. Page 394
  3. Ivanits, Linda J. Russian Folk Belief. Armonk, N.Y: M.E. Sharpe, 1989. Pages 14-16
  4. Bogowie : A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods. Moon Books, John Hunt Publishing, 2023. Pages 53-55
  5. Roberts, Warren Everett. The Tale of the Kind and the Unkind Girls: AA-TH 480 and Related Titles. United States, Wayne State University Press, 1994. Page XI
  6. My Polish Grandmother: from Tragedy in Poland to her Rose Garden in America. N.p., Stephen Szabados, 2018.

Religion and Spirituality Beyond Abrahamic Faith and Orthodoxy

In my book, Bogowie- A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods, I quote Voltaire in saying “doubt is unpleasant, but certainty is absurd.” I think the hints of agnosticism have surprised some people, seeing as it’s a book on neopaganism.

But in Western culture, there’s often a very rigid binary between belief and non-belief that ignores the very real spectrum of agnosticism that (I would argue) most believers worldwide fall into. And this is one of the major commonalities between Western Atheism and Christianity. Many atheists in the Western world, like their Christian counterparts, have never conceived of religion without orthodoxy. Yet much of the world follows such a tradition.

For many of us in the West, the most familiar example of this is likely to be found in Japan. In Japan, the Shinto tradition is very much an orthopraxic tradition. People who follow Shinto preserve and maintain Japanese traditions, like celebrating cultural festivals, and burning incense for the dead. People who maintain these traditions are considered followers of the Shinto religion. Varying degrees of belief are very much permitted, and there would be nothing at all strange about an agnostic practitioner of the Shinto tradition. And even among believers, there could be a variety of perspectives- because Shinto is not defined by a painstakingly elaborated orthodoxy in the way that canonical Christianity is.

Very similarly, we know that the priests of the pre-Christian Roman religion tended to issue judgments on correct ritual practice, rather than correct belief. It was even possible for an adherent of Neoplatonist philosophy, like Julian the Apostate, to worship the traditional Roman Gods. The traditional Roman polytheistic religion long predated the philosophy of Neoplatonism, and the two obviously had very separate origins. Yet in the 4th century A.D., Emperor Julian the Apostate apparently felt that there was no implicit contradiction between the two. Quite the opposite.

And as I have said, atheism can also suffer from these preconceptions. Contrary to popular rumor, atheism is not a religion. At least not in principle. Atheism only describes what a person doesn’t believe in- it tells you next to nothing about what they do believe in. For that reason, among many others, it’s absurd to call atheism a form of dogma or a religion in and of itself. But there are irrational extremes which can rear their heads within the atheist community. The so-called “anti-theist” is a great example of this. Typically, an anti-theist makes the bold claim that religion is the source of a lot of human irrationality, cruelty, and ignorance- and that these problems would all be alleviated if religion were removed.

But this bold hypothetical claim is not so different from claiming with absolute certainty that God exists. It may seem self-evident- but only to the individual who is already a true believer. And there are reasons to seriously doubt that atheism would usher in an era of pure reason. Many atheists are not reasonable. Bill Maher is an anti-vax nut. And even the Amazing James Randi infamously succumbed to anti climate-science propaganda from the far-right.

James Randi did a fantastic job of debunking fake psychic charlatans like Yuri Geller. But Yuri Geller didn’t kill hundreds of millions of people. Climate Change will. Exercising skepticism on the topic of Yuri Geller, but not on climate change, is akin to wearing a bulletproof bikini. James Randi’s skepticism may have served him well within a narrow sphere, but it failed him in an area of much greater importance to humankind. And this illustrates the fallacy of anti-theism quite well, in my opinion. Contrary to popular belief, skepticism about spirituality does not always translate into good judgment on the issues that will most severely impact the well-being of humankind.

And I would argue that this almost dualistic stance against religion (displayed by anti-theists, but not by all atheists) has its roots in the fact that Western culture associates religion with orthodoxy. It’s no coincidence then that some atheists in the West revert to another type of dualistic orthodoxy based on binary definitions of “belief.”

For the record, I definitely lean in the direction of belief. I believe in spirits, and in beings we call the Gods. But I also believe that these things are an eternal mystery for humankind. And even as a believer, I’ve often felt that total faith was absurd. I also suspect that many believers are even somewhat dishonest about their own uncertainty. In reality, faith is rarely absolute. And I would argue that’s for the best.

But if you are attempting to move beyond the conditioning of Abrahamic religion, orthodoxy is not the only form of baggage to beware of. It’s often not appreciated that many religions don’t claim to hold a monopoly on truth. Generally speaking, Islam and Christianity tend to present themselves as exclusive sources of the divine truth. This can become somewhat nuanced when it comes to other Abrahamic faiths (so-called religions of the book). But non-Abrahamic faiths have often been dismissed as false by default.

One of the modern movements that has moved beyond this conceit of holding a monopoly is Unitarian Universalism, which essentially holds that all religious traditions are valid. This may sound like a very modern take, but it’s really not so different from views that had been expressed before Christianity. In the writings of Celsus- a Roman who penned a diatribe against Christianity, we encounter the following argument for preserving the religious diversity of the world:

“In all probability, the various quarters of the earth were from the beginning allotted to different superintending spirits, and were thus distributed among certain governing powers, and in this manner the administration of the world is carried on. And whatever is done among each nation in this way would be rightly done, wherever it was agreeable to the wishes (of the superintending powers), while it would be an act of impiety to get rid of the institutions established from the beginning in the various places.”…

People of the ancient world were well aware of regional differences in religious traditions. The solutions to this dilemma varied. Celsus apparently believed that different nations could have different “superintending powers.” In other instances, ancient people identified certain foreign deities with their own, in a process called syncretism.

This is why, today, Romance languages like Spanish have weekdays named after Roman Gods, but Germanic languages like English have weekdays named after the (allegedly) corresponding Germanic deities. Hence, Miercoles vs Wednesday. Because the Romans identified Wodan with Mercury. The views on foreign deities varied. But the one thing that generally didn’t happen was outright demonization or dismissal. In non-Abrahamic traditions, any spirit from any culture was at least treated as a potentially real being, and generally was not disrespected.

in the modern world, I would argue that these are both attitudes that are sorely needed. Embracing the reality that belief is a nuanced spectrum- and that faith should never be absolute- would go a long way towards fostering a healthier form of spirituality. It’s also past time for us reject the idea that alternate views on religion are bad or invalid. Either all cultures have some spiritual insight, or else none of them do. The idea that foreign cultures lack spiritual insight has a long, dark history of being used to justify all manner of imperialism and dehumanization- it has no place in the modern world.

As for atheism, I can relate to the skeptical mindset. I have been skeptical myself. But as I hope I have shown, spirituality and religion need not be as irrational and dangerous as they are often portrayed by the anti-theism crowd.

Slavic Tribes in the 7th-8th Century

I always liked this Russian map showing the 7th-8th century Slavic tribes. It shows great attention to detail. Using the Russian original, I’ve created the modified graphic below. I’ve basically just gone ahead and converted many of the Cyrillic alphabet characters into Latin characters. In some cases, I have even translated for the sake of clarity.


I haven’t kept to the color coding for East Slavs/ West Slavs/ South Slavs. All Slavic tribal names are just listed in green. Partially for convenience, and partially because I consider this simple three-way division to be anachronistic before the arrival of the Magyars and the rise of Kievan Rus in the late 9th century. The Magyars brought the Hungarian language into the Pannonian basin, which greatly contributed to the fragmentation of the Slavic dialect continuum. In particular, it would cause the South Slavic dialects to split cleanly from the West Slavic dialects. Evidence of this forced split can still be seen in certain linguistic traits shared by central Slovak and Kajkavian Croatian.

Also starting in the 9th century, the rise of Kievan Rus led to the coalescing of East Slavic culture, and of the Old East Slavic language. The Old Novgorodian Birch Bark documents (found in the land of the Ilmen Slovenes) attest to the fact that Kievan Rus united a collection of Slavic tribes that had been dialectically diverse. But this map predates all of that. So I just don’t see the point of color-coding to reflect our modern conception of South Slavs, West Slavs, and East Slavs.

Also, as the map shows, many modern Slavic nations emerged from a collection of local tribes. And this is something worth remembering. Generally, the assimilation of tribal groups into states coincided with Christianization, or preceded Christianization by only a century or so.

Dazhbog and Pihampar: How Mastery of Wolves is Intimately Connected with the Cult of Fire

This is the second of a series of supplementary blog posts that are intended to address gaps or reconsiderations of material that I presented in my book “Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods.”

In my book, I came to a number of conclusions about Slavic mythology. These conclusions are based on a fairly thorough analysis of Eastern European folklore, as well as Indo-European comparative mythology and medieval manuscripts. Some have questioned why I also included analyses of North Eurasian mythologies that are not Indo-European. I had thought this might be partially self-explanatory. After all, my first chapter contains an elaborate summary of the prehistory of Eastern Europe. This includes data from ancient DNA studies, which show how North Eurasia has served as a melting pot for thousands of years. Still, I wanted to address this confusion before launching into this post. Because it does involve some traditions from non-Indo-European language speakers. Nevertheless, it appears to reflect very real correspondences surrounding the cult of fire across North Eurasia.

First of all, however, I wanted to discuss Dazhbog, the Sun Tsar. It is well known that this deity is referred to as a God of the sun in one interpolation of the Malalas Chronicle. Less well-known is the fact that he also serves as a shepherd of wolves in Serbian folklore, under the name “Dajbog.” (1)

The wolf shepherd tradition is associated with a number of Saints in Slavic folklore, including St. George, St. Mrata, and St. Sava. In many Slavic countries, the wolf was often called the “dog” of a particular Saint, signifying their control over them. For instance, in Takovci, St. Sava is considered the “Master of Wolves” and wolves are said to be his dogs. (2)

This presents a fascinating parallel to a figure from Chuvash mythology; Pihampar. It is worth mentioning that the Chuvash are a Turkic language-speaking people. However, they are a particular type of Turkic language-speaking people who have been in Eastern Europe for some time. They are closely related to the Bulgars and Khazars, who both entered Eastern Europe before it was Christianized. It is unclear to what extent they may have absorbed Scythian and Sarmatian elements- but such mixing is not unlikely. We also know that the Khazars and Bulgars interacted heavily with the Slavs.

In Chuvash tradition, Pihampar is called kash-kar hone (i.e., the wolf khan) and in prayers addressed to him, they asked him to calm down his dogs (i.e., wolves) and not allow them to steal livestock. (3) Pihampar is the messenger of fate. He protects animals from wolves and other predatory animals. One common belief is that he sends fire to a person. Before turning on the fire when brewing beer, the Chuvash commemorate Pihampar. (3) Pihampar is believed to “fan the fire” all over the world. “Why not a single Chuvash,” noted K. Milkovich, an author of the 18th century, “when starting to brew beer, would put fire under the cauldron without first calling on the name of the Pihampar” (4)

In Komi mythology, which comes from speakers of the Permic branch of the Finnic language family, a very similar figure called “Kam” can be discerned. Kam lives in a cottage located in a dense forest, or in the sky. Wolves are servants of this spirit. To keep the fire burning in its stove and to fan the fire repeatedly is the main function of Kam. It also breathes fire. In one story, a girl kills Kam with the hottest poker on his stove. From that time onward, Kam’s fire belongs to humankind. The name “Kam” has negative associations in the modern Komi-Permyak language, but the word is clearly connected to the words “kamlat” (to practice shamanism) and kamlanije (to perform a shamanistic ritual.” (5)

The wolf-holiday rituals linked with Saint Martin (Mrata) in the Balkans are clearly linked with the hearth chain. In Crna Trava, families typically sacrificed a black hen on Mrata’s day. Its head was then hung on the hearth chains above the fireplace. Eventually, the head fell into the fireplace to be burnt. This is done so wolves don’t harm livestock. (6) Among the Ossetians, the cult of the hearth fire is closely associated with Safa. Safa is an interesting figure, associated not only with the hearth-fire but also with the hearth chain on which the cauldron is suspended. Interestingly, Safa also features as a kind of blacksmith deity. (7) We should recall that in addition to being a shepherd of wolves (1) the Serbian Dajbog was also associated with metals and mining. (8)

Another critical element of Safa’s worship is the celebration of the New Year holiday “Artkhuron.” During this time, people would traditionally pray to the Ossetian hearth deity. And prayers from this holiday have led researchers to conclude that “Artkhuron” was little more than one of Safa’s names or epithets. (9) Interestingly, the name “Artkhuron” is a compound of the Ossetian words for “fire” (art) and “solar” (khuron). Therefore, the most straightforward interpretation is to simply translate the term as “Solar Fire.”(10) (11) Based on this, we have reason to identify Safa as a solar deity as well as a hearth deity in Ossetian tradition.

In my book, “Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods” the connection between Dazhbog and the cult of fire is a central theme that I use to connect him with the folklore surrounding the twin brother Saints Cosmas and Damian. These saints are also clearly connected with the cult of fire in East Slavic folk tradition. In fact, you can draw parallels between the hen sacrifice made to the hearth chain in Crna Trava on St. Mrata’s day, and the rooster sacrifice made to the fire in the grain drying barn on the feast day of St. Cosmas and Damian. (12) These rituals took place on November 24th, and November 01 respectively. In other words, the Serbian tradition of Mratindan is within a month of the analogous ritual associated with the Saints Cosmas and Damian. The latter are also associated with blacksmithing.

Many scholars have debated whether Dazhbog should be identified with the God of the fire in the grain drying barn, who was called “Svarozhich” in one medieval manuscript. (13) After all, the name “Svarozhich” means “Svarog-son.” Considering that Dazhbog was also called a son of Svarog, this was always a reasonable hypothesis. However, it has not been fully appreciated how the Serbian master of wolves, “Dajbog”, appears to corroborate this theory.

If you found this analysis interesting, I would highly recommend you take a look at Chapter 8 of my book. (Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods by T.D. Kokoszka) Because it is in the analysis of the folklore surrounding Cosmas and Damian that the fun really starts!

1) Pettazzoni, Raffaele, Domenico Accorinti, and Herbert J. Rose. Raffaele Pettazzoni and Herbert Jennings Rose, Correspondence 1927-1958: The Long Friendship between the Author and the Translator of the All-Knowing God. Leiden: Brill, 2014. Page 326

2) Mencej, Mirjam. (2009). Wolf holidays among Southern Slavs in the Balkans. Acta Ethnographica Hungarica. 54. 337-358. 10.1556/AEthn.54.2009.2.6.

3) Denisov, Petr Vladimirovich. Ėtnokulʹturnye paralleli dunaĭskikh bolgar i chuvasheĭ. Russia, Chuvashknigoizdat, 1969. Page 106

4) Nikolʹskiĭ, Nikolaĭ Vasilʹevich, and Matveev, Georgiĭ Borisovich. Собрание сочинений в четырех томах. Russia, Чувашское книжное изд-во, 2004. Page 95

5) Konakov, Nikolaĭ Dmitrievich. Komi Mythology. Finland, Akadémiai Kiadó, 2003. Page151-152

6) Mencej, Mirjam. (2009). Wolf holidays among Southern Slavs in the Balkans. Acta Ethnographica Hungarica. 54. Page 339

7) ФГБУНСеверо-Осетинский институт гуманитарных и социальных исследований им. В.И. Абаева ВНЦ РАН и Правительства РСО-Алания, Таказов Федар Магометович, МИФОЛОГИЧЕСКИЕ АРХЕТИПЫ МОДЕЛИ МИРА В ОСЕТИНСКОЙ КОСМОГОНИИ, Владикавказ 2014. Page 71

8) Encyclopedia Americana: Skin to Sumac. United States, Scholastic Library Pub., 2006. Page 26

9) Gazdanova, Valentina Soltanovna. Традиционная осетинская свадьба: миф, ритуалы и символы. Russia, Иристон, 2003. Page 115

10) Uchenyi︠a︡ zapiski Imperatorskago moskovskago universiteta: Otdi︠e︡l istoriko-filologicheskīĭ. Russia, Tip. F. B. Millera, 1882. Page 267

11) Більське городище в наукових працях Б. А. Шрамка: збірник наукових праць, присвячений 95-річчю від дня народження вченого. Ukraine, Алексей. Page 220

12) Ivanits, Linda J.. Russian Folk Belief. United Kingdom, Taylor & Francis, 2015. Page 61

13) Warner, Elizabeth. Russian Myths (Legendary Past Series). Austin, University of Texas Press, 2002. Page 12

Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods


Hello everyone. It has been a while since I blogged on Slavic Pagan Facts (SPF). I do have some news however. I have a book coming out in September of 2023. This book is very much the culmination of my research on Slavic paganism, including many ideas that I explored on this blog.
The book is very academic for a text on neopaganism. It contains a huge background on Indo-European studies, not to mention some key parallels between Slavic folk traditions, and those of other North Eurasian ethnic groups like the Uralic peoples. It’s over 400 pages long, and it represents a very serious attempt to crack some of the mysteries of Slavic paganism.
I do cite some Russian sources, including some from the Soviet period. However, I also make the case that some research from this era is now fairly dated (and perhaps was always questionable). I’m not alone on this. If you read Polish, you will find similar critiques of Soviet scholarship on Slavic paganism in the 2020 book Mity Słowian: śladami świętych opowieści przodków by Michał Łuczyński. (Which I discovered only towards the end of my writing!)

How did I do? I look forward to hearing the differing opinions. But if you’re curious, please take a look.

https://www.johnhuntpublishing.com/moon-books/our-books/bowgowie-eastern-europes-ancient-gods

Update: Slavic Pagan Facts Book

Hello all,

Just a quick update on this blog. It has been largely shuttered, in part because a lot of the material has been incorporated into a book. It is currently in production. It will be published by John Hunt Publishing under ISBN: 978-1-80341-285-6 in 2023, under the title “Bogowie: A Study of Eastern Europe’s Ancient Gods.” If you enjoyed this blog during its 2+ year run, then I strongly encourage you to follow the SPF (Slavic Pagan Facts) group on facebook. The rollout of the book will be announced here.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/515456432862724/?_rdr

Jarilo, the Sun, and the Divine Twins

Much has already been said in my last few posts about the cult of the sun in Slavic pre-Christian tradition. I’ve mentioned that the Malalas Chronicle refers to Dazbog, son of Svarog, as the “Sun Tsar.”(1) This is the same Dazbog who is listed among the idols of Kiev, which Prince Vladimir removed after Christianization. The deity Dazbog apparently enjoyed some prominence in Kiev. However, this text is a translation of a Greek one in which Greek deity names have been replaced by Slavic ones. Most likely, the name “Dazbog” has been used appropriately much as “Perun” is logically translated from “Zeus” in some Russian manuscripts. However, the level of certainty is not as great as I would like. This manuscript is the sole piece of evidence linking Dazbog to the sun.

It could be argued that there is equal evidence linking another Slavic deity from the Kievan pantheon to the sun. This deity is “Khors.” While this name is also mysterious, there is an interesting reference to him in the Lay of Igor’s Campaign- an Old East Slavic epic with a handful of obscure references to pagan deities. The noteworthy text appears to describe how the Prince Vseslav changed into a wolf by night, and traveled a vast distance before sunrise:

“Prince Vseslav sat in judgment over his people, apportioned cities to the princes, but himself raced a wolf in the night, and by cockcrow reached from Kiev to Tmutorokan, and as a wolf crossed the path of great Khors.”(2)

This passage is more ambiguous than many admit. The traditional interpretation is that Khors is the sun, whom Vseslav  overtakes by arriving before dawn. Alternatively, I have read the suggestion that crossing the “path of great Khors” is a reference to traveling from north to south.  Because the sun travels from east to west during the day, one could conceive that traveling south from Kiev to Tmutorokan involved crossing the sun’s path. However, this is not the only possible interpretation. Khors could also be a nocturnal deity who was believed to travel abroad during night. It is also tempting to link him to the moon, especially considering Vseslav’s transformation.

In reality, while the passage is consistent with a solar deity, the main motive for seeing a solar deity in Khors lies in his name. The name appears to be an Iranian loan word meaning “sun.” For instance, in modern day Ossetian, the word for sun is “Khur.” (3) If not for this, then I doubt that the passage from the Lay of Igor’s Campaign would be interpreted so uniformly. Still, it appears that we have two deities associated with the diurnal or daily cycle. As I hope to show, it may be that these two are brothers or even twins.

Recall my two lengthy posts on the many pagan “Maria’s” of Eastern Europe. In them, I cite a couple of instances in which the sun appears to have a romantic relationship with his sister and/or a maiden of the sea. For instance, the Russians sang about the siblings Ivan and Maria marrying one another on Kupala night or summer solstice.(12) The holiday of Kupala is today interchangeable with St. John’s night, and the “Ivan” in this narrative clearly takes his name from St. John (Ivan in Russian.) Yet the fact that this holiday coincides with Summer solstice should automatically put us on the alert for solar symbolism.

In Bulgaria, the solar symbolism is much more explicit. The folk tradition there clearly describes an interaction between the sun and his sister, the morning star, on summer solstice. In Romania it appears that the sun’s sister, Sanziene, is actually the moon (a departure from Slavic paganism) yet the romantic relationship between two celestial siblings is quite clearly associated with St. John’s night in Romania. (5)(6)

More typically, in Slavic countries, the sun longs for a sea-maiden associated with the dawn or morning star. This figure clearly corresponds to Maria Morevna, as described in previous posts. Thus in one East Slavic tale, referenced in a previous post, we can read the following:

“Well, I can tell thee all about the ways of the sun, for I am the sun’s own daughter. So now I’ll tell thee the whole matter. Go back to this nobleman and say to him that the reason why the sun turns so red as he sets is this: Just as the sun is going down into the sea, three fair ladies rise out of it, and it is the sight of them which makes him turn so red all over!”

Here we have three sea-maidens, which is probably accurate. There are a number of indications that the daughters of the sea are in fact three or nine maidens in Slavic mythology. In one Slovak tale, there is only one daughter among thirteen sisters who has golden hair, and she alone is associated with the dawn. (7) Her Ossetian counterpart is Zerasha, the golden-haired daughter of the sea-deity Donbettyr. In some cases, we also see a correspondence with Satana/ Satanaya- the daughter born from Zerasha’s tomb. (8)(9) Zerasha actually means “golden haired”, and the word for  “gold” in Ossetian and other Iranian languages appears to have been borrowed by Proto-Slavic as ”Zorje” with the modified meaning “dawn.” This presents the strongest argument that these tales are in fact ancient, because any shared mythology between the Ossetians and the Slavs most likely dates back to the iron age.

In one Polish tale, the personified Sun converses with his mother. She asks him why he suffered an eclipse a month ago, and he describes how he was nearly devoured by a dragon. Evidently, he was rescued by a “rusalka” or mermaid who sang to the dragon, thus taming him, and giving the Sun an opportunity to burn the dragon to ashes. Later, the rusalka marries the sun and her sister marries the hero of the story.(10) In this context, the “mermaid” who marries the sun is almost certainly a relative of Maria Morevna, the sea-daughter of Russian fairy tales. In one Lithuanian variant, the name “Maria Morevna” is replaced with “The Sun Princess.”(11) It is probably not farfetched to say that Maria Morevna may have originally been something like “Zaria Morevna” in Old East Slavic (Lit. Dawn Seadaughter)

It is telling that the Lithuanian fairy tale portrays her as the personified sun herself however. This is unsurprising, because the sun is a Goddess in Lithuanian mythology (12) Much as in the German and Norse mythologies. (13) Based on comparative linguistics, we know that the Slavic languages split off from the Baltic languages at some time during the late bronze-age, and even the Germanic peoples have similar northern European origins going back to the corded ware culture. (14) This raises the question;  Why don’t the Slavs have a true sun Goddess, like their relatives in the Baltic region? Why has she been seemingly changed into a sea/dawn Goddess who marries a masculine sun deity? Where did this male “Sun Tsar” actually come from?

The answer seems to lie, unsurprisingly, in Ossetian culture. As mentioned in other posts, the cultural relatives/ancestors of the Ossetians migrated deep into Eastern Europe at around the time that the Slavs were separating with the Balts, and based on Ossetian culture they most likely referred to the sun as “Khur” and viewed it as masculine rather than feminine. Our few ancient Greek sources on the Scythians, who were also a part of this Iranian wave in Eastern Europe, seem to confirm this view. Herodotus lists “Apollo” among the Gods worshipped by the Scythians, and says that they call him Goitosyros. According to Herodotus, the closely related Massagetae also worshipped the sun, and sacrificed horses to him. According to Pausanias, the Persians also sacrificed horses to the sun. (15) In general, we can reconstruct an Iranian male solar deity associated with horse sacrifice.

 In the Ossetian Nart Sagas, interestingly, Zerasha marries Akhshartag. Later, her husband quarrels with his twin Akhshar over her. The two later kill each other, and St. George (Uastyrdzhi) swoops in to replace them. He later rapes her in her tomb (after temporarily resurrecting her) leaving her pregnant with Satana.(9) It is difficult not to read this as an attack on paganism, followed by a half-Christianized imitation of paganism. St. George replaces the divine twins Akhshartag and Akhshar as Zerasha’s implicit suitors, then humiliates Zerasha while symbolically replacing her with his own daughter. Satana is therefore likely a newer version of Zerasha, one “sancitified” by the seed of St. George. This explains why Satana’s characteristics are blended seamlessly with that of her mother in Slavic folktales.

From this we can gather two things: A) The husband of the dawn Goddess may have been linked to the divine twins. This is useful because the divine twins are among the best reconstructed deities of the Proto-Indo-European religion. B) The divine twins appear to have been systematically replaced by St. George by the Eastern Orthodox church. This is significant because as we have seen with Perun and St. Elijah, the Orthodox church often had a policy of assimilating similar deities with certain saints. For instance, Uacilla (St. Elijah) in Ossetia absorbed the mythology of the local storm deity, much as St. Elijah absorbed Perun in Orthodox Slavic countries. These two conclusions help bring a lot of Slavic folk tradition into focus.

For anyone unfamiliar with Indo-European studies, the divine twins require a little bit of explanation. They are best reconstructed from Vedic, Greek, and Baltic sources. In the Vedas, the Aswins appear as two divine horsemen and brothers. They have much in common with the Greek Dioskouroi, as well as the Baltic Dieva Deli and Asvienai. One element of their mythology already discussed in detail (out of necessity) is their marriage to the sun Goddess, or to her daughter. The Encyclopedia of Indo-European Culture by J.P. Mallory has this to say about them:

“A pair of lesser Gods, the Divine Twins have enjoyed widespread popularity in myth, legend, and folklore from Sri Lanka to the Isle of Man. Their prototype is easily reconstructed from extant mythological sources. They are two youths, twins, or brothers who frequently bear the epithet “son” or “youth.” They are depicted as supernatural horsemen and their epiphanies are horses. In their equine form, they are the divine steeds which draw the solar chariot. Perhaps for this reason, they are often regarded as offspring of the Indo-European Sky or Sun Gods. They share a consistent relationship with the sun God and the Goddess(es) associated with the dawn, the morning, and the evening stars. As a triad, the twins and their consort appear in numerous myths, epics, legends, and are particularly popular in folktales. Most often, these tales involve the rescue of the consort by the twins from some kind of watery peril.”

That pretty accurately describes the stories of Zerasha and her Slavic counterparts like Maria Morevna. The main difference seems to be that at least one twin is himself now the personified sun in Slavic mythology. Unsurprisingly, most recent folktales leave out the polyandry. Often times, one brother assists the other in winning the bride. In the Russian tale of Ivan the Cow’s son (15) it is Burya Bogatyr (Literally “Storm Knight) who obtains the Sea-Daughter dove-maiden for his brother after slaying dragons from the deep. Based on this, we may be looking at residue of a myth in which Perun embarked on a quest which resulted in Zaria Morevna marrying their brother, the Sun Tsar. In the previously mentioned folktale however, there are three brothers. We hear about the Storm Knight, and we hear about his brother who marries the daughter of the sea but we hear nothing noteworthy about the other brother. The most likely explanation is that he’s a member of a pair of brothers who married her together, as reconstructed in the Proto-Indo-European religion.  Thus, Perun slays the dragon but does not marry the maiden. Instead, she marries his two brothers. In fact, in some stories about Maria Morevna and her counterparts, the Koschei-like figure who abducts her may be slain when the hero’s horse convinces his brother, who is Koschei’s horse, to throw his rider. Thus, Koschei may be defeated by a hero and two horses who are brothers. (the divine twins.) This happens in a Serbian variant of the story, and in the Circassian Nart Sagas. (16)(8) Additionally, in one Czech version, the dove maiden turns out to be the sister of the hero’s own horse, who is transformed back into a man after her abductor is slain. In this story as well, both horses turn against the abductor.(17) Thus, we can consider both horses to be brothers to one another, as well as to the Storm Knight and the Sea-Daughter. In some of these narratives, there are also three Sea-Daughters. Possibly one for each brother to marry.

As Mallory’s encyclopedia says, the divine twins of Indo-European mythology are often the solar steeds. Yet it appears that we might more accurately describe a triad of solar deities in Slavic mythology- namely, the divine twins and their consort the dawn.  These parallels also apply very well to the Nart Sagas as well. Regarding the birth of Akhshar and Akhshartag, we are told that one was born at the first cock crow, and the other at the second cock crow- just before the morning star appeared in the sky. (9)

In the modern day pagan religion of Uatsdin, Uastyrdzhi us treated as a kind of pagan deity. This is not far wrong, despite the fact that he wears the trappings of St. George. Uastyrdzhi has been linked to Indo-Iranian sun worship and star worship, and is often depicted riding a white horse with large testicles.(18) In November they sacrifice a one year old bullock to him. They cut off the right horn of the bull long before, in order to mark it as his. (19) Suffice to say, he is a pagan figure. The concept of an animal sacrifice with the right side broken or struck in some way is a common characteristic in the Indo-European religion. For example, the Romans would sacrifice the October horse to Mars after a race, which involved killing the right-hand horse of a winning chariot after a race was held.(20) Similarly, the Rugian Slavs had a deity named Sventovit who was believed to have a sacred white horse, similar to Uastyrdzhi. If the horse stepped over a lance with its right foot, it was considered a good omen.(21) It’s worth noting that while the Roman horse sacrifice to Mars happened in October, the deity Mars was perhaps most strongly associated with the month of March, which bears his namesake. Similarly, the Vedic horse sacrifice known as Asvamedha always started in Spring. (28)

 At Dereivka, in modern day Ukraine, there is an important archaeological site of the Sredny Stog culture around 4000 B.C. The site is often associated with the Proto-Indo-Europeans, and some of the earliest evidence for this type of sacrifice has been retrieved there. After analysis of the horse bones found on the site, it was found that seventeen of the eighteen whole metacarpals recovered were from the left leg. This appears to imply some taboo against breaking the left leg of the sacrificial horse. (28) Or more aptly, the right leg was deliberately broken as part of the ritual, leaving mostly left leg metacarpals intact. The emphasis on right/left handedness is a likely characteristic of the divine twins. In the Nart Sagas, there is an episode in which two twins argue over who is the elder son. Eventually, the whole affair is decided when one of them voluntarily walks to the left of his twin. Afterwards, the right-hand brother is assumed to be the “elder.”(9)

Suppose for a moment that we accept Uastyrdzhi is a relic of Indo-Iranian paganism. Why should such a figure become syncretized with the Christian St. George? To answer this question, we need to understand the Orthodox tradition of assimilating pagan figures with saints, and we need to understand the origins of that tradition as they pertain to St. George. In particular, it must be acknowledged that the iconography of St. George riding on horseback has pagan roots.

Before the South Slavs arrived in the Balkans, and before Christianity, there was the worship of a figure known as “The Thracian Horseman.” The Thracians were the pre-Slavic and pre-Roman inhabitants of modern day Bulgaria. This mysterious horseman deity is depicted in numerous tablets, stelae, and other reliefs scattered throughout the region. He is often depicted riding on horseback with a spear, shield, phial, and/or horn of plenty. He often pursues a wild boar, but other reliefs show him riding towards a tree with a snake coiled around it. Some reliefs portray a smaller, “counter horseman” riding to the left.

The iconography of the Thracian Horseman survived to this day in the iconography of St. George in Bulgaria. He became the Saint riding upon his white horse, whereas the snake became the dragon. Some depictions even pair him with a servant or “counter-horseman” in the form of St. Dimitrios. St. George tends to preside over the Spring and Summer, whereas Dimitrios is associated with Winter. It is worth noting that the traditions associated with St. George’s Day or Gergyovden in Bulgaria are broadly similar to those associated with Summer Solstice, that is, the Night of St. John. These include bathing, lighting bonfires, and gathering herbs. This is consistent with a  broader trend in Bulgarian folk tradition, in which spring customs and summer customs are not clearly separated. (22) Thus, we have some tentative indications that St. George absorbed some traits of the Slavic Sun God mentioned earlier. Another transparently pagan practice associated with St. George’s day in Bulgaria is the sacrifice of the Gergyovden lamb. The blood of the lamb sacrificed on St. George’s day was believed to be sacred, and was smeared on the foreheads and chins of children. In a practice eerily similar to the festival of Uastyrdzhi in Ossetia, the Bulgarians would sometimes mark the Gergyovden lamb for sacrifice by fixing a candle on its right horn. (22)

As mentioned earlier, the conventional wisdom about St. George in the Balkans comes from the researchers Katicic and Belaj. Their reconstruction has some strong points and weak points. They correctly point to the similarity between the name “George” in South Slavic languages and the deity name “Jarilo.” The root “Jar” appears to be a Proto-Slavic term associated with Spring, Summer, heat, and vitality.(23) A pagan figure associated with fertility and named “Juri” or “Jarilo” is common in Slavic folklore. He is often interchangeable with a goat or horse who causes wheat or rye to grow wherever he walks. This miraculous goat/horse shows up in Polish spring celebrations.(24) Similarly, in Belarus, a woman would dress as Jarilo and ride upon a white horse while people around her sang songs about the growth of their crops. Understandably, Katicic and Belaj interpreted him as a vegetation deity. They also reconstructed an elaborate myth in which he marries his sister Mara, who eventually kills him every winter. (23)

As we have seen though, the brother/sister marriage in Slavic folk tradition is in fact a marriage between the Sun and his sister, the Dawn and/or Sea-Daughter. This would appear to render Jarilo indistinguishable from the Sun God. In a sense, the sun does cause grain to sprout wherever it treads, so this is not incompatible with the springtime goat and horse traditions. The Bosnian narratives of St. George largely support this. So for example, one story has a maiden interceding in the fight between St. George and the dragon. The maiden tames the dragon, and St. George is able to slay it while it is docile. (23) This is quite similar to the Polish tale mentioned above (10) in which a Rusalka or mermaid tames the dragon by singing to it, so that the Sun can burn the dragon to ashes. There is also a Bosnian variant in which the maiden rescued by St. George (or “Derzelez” as they call him) is replaced with his own sister, Ajka. In one fascinating episode, she prays to the sun for her brother to return to her, in exactly the same manner that Bosnian women used to pray to the sun for the return of their lovers on St. Georges day. (23)

What’s more, “Mara” or some variant thereof is an extremely loaded name in Slavic folklore. As mentioned in previous posts, the term often appears associated with Mokosha. Both names appear in association with the child-stealing changeling mother, and both also appear associated with female house spirits who are occupied with spinning. However, sometimes the name (often in diminutive form) appears to refer to one of her daughters, particularly the dark counterpart of the dawn Goddess. In one Russian bylina, the sorceress “Marinka” appears as the sinister foil to the hero’s noble and equally powerful sister. (24) On the other hand, another Russian tale turns the hero’s sister into a demon and contrasts her with the majestic “Sister of the Sun.” The implication is that the hero is a stand-in for the Sun, and both figures are in fact his sister/s. In fact, the hero in the bylina is even transformed into a golden-horned auroch by the witch Marinka, which is reminiscent of the goat or horse-shape of Jarilo alluded to in songs. Some Slavic folk tales feature a “Sun Horse” who is stolen, thus plunging the land into darkness. (25) Alternatively, witches may drag down the moon and milk it like a cow. (22) This is reminiscent of some Hutsul folk narratives which claim that witches can “drink” away the moon and the sun. (27) This appears to be a reference to the cycles of the sun and moon. It is possible that this is the hidden meaning behind the story of the hero who is transformed into a golden horned animal by Marinka or some counterpart of hers.         

 There is one other important reference to Jarilo that I know of, and it convincingly demonstrates his status as an ancient and Pan-Slavic divinity. This is the 12th century account of Gerovit, a deity who had a temple dedicated to him among the Wendish Slavs of Wolgast, in modern day Germany. The –vit ending appears at the end of virtually all masculine deity names in Wendish mythology, and probably means “lord” or something similar. The first part “Gero” is clearly derived from the Slavic root “Jar.”  Thus, Jarilo was not only known among the west Slavs, but his worship goes all the way back to the middle ages. What’s more, the meager description of his temple notes that the center of his worship was a golden shield, which was treated almost like an idol of the God himself. (26) This symbolism is very much consistent with the idea that he was a solar deity.

If Jarilo is also one of the divine twins, as implied by his equine characteristics, then what of his twin? This is a difficult question to answer. In fairy tales, the villain Koschei often appears as the rider of the “other horse.” It is possible that one of the divine twins became partially stigmatized. This could be due to Iranian influence, as Persian mythology features a similar conflict between the divine white and black horses, Tishtrya and Apaosha. However, the actual horse in these fairy tales ultimately turns against his rider Koshchei, and fights beside his brothers. This suggests that he was not altogether demonized.

This polarization is likely reflected in the Christianized myths about “warm” St. George and “cold” St. Dimitrios in the Balkans. A similar association shows up in the folk Christianity of the Hutsuls, who evidently transformed the Saint “Georgi” into “Iurii” in their language due to his conflation with Jarilo. In the Hutsul dialect, “Jar” meant spring. According to the Hutsuls, Iurii and Dmytro are the two gatekeepers of the sky. Saint Dmytro locks up the heavens in the winter. In the spring Iurii shouts to him “Give me the keys brother Dmytro, or I will take them by force!” (27)

In summary, it would appear that the Slavic solar deity or deities were also merged with the divine twins, and later with St. George. The one indisputably pagan name that we can assign to the solar deity is “Jarilo” or “Jarovit.” As is often the case with Slavic paganism, the names that come down to us through folklore are easier to identify than the enigmatic names in medieval manuscripts. The names Dazbog and Khors are tempting candidates, but the data on them is more sparse. Dazbog is a likely solar deity, but this largely hinges on one Russian “translation” of a Greek manuscript mentioning Helios. Khors is even more enigmatic. His name appears to mean “sun” if we assume an Iranian etymology. However, interpreting him as the night or the moon is equally valid based on the passage in Igor’s Campaign. However, because the name “Jarilo” is absent from the Kievan pantheon, it seems likely that either Dazbog or Khors are alternative names for him. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say that Dazbog/Jarilo is the God of spring/summer and the Sun, and Khors is his dimmer, colder, or darker brother. I say this because to my eyes, the passage in Igor’s Campaign actually seems to tie Khors to nighttime.

This concludes my series of posts on Slavic deities that I feel can be significantly reconstructed. There are many more names I could discuss, such as Stribog, Rugevit, Porevit, Triglav, and Radegast. However, I currently have little to say about them. I suppose one other exception might be Simargl, who is generally believed to be akin to the Persian Simurgh. Indeed, some Slavic folk tales do feature an eagle in exactly the same role that Simurgh occupies in eastern tales. For instance, a magnificent eagle  may carry the hero out of the underworld, much as Simurgh does in Kurdish folklore. Veles and Tsar Morskoi are tricky ones, not easily distinguished from Chernobog in my opinion, but I remain agnostic about their true nature.

 In general, I feel pretty well satisfied with the deities that I’ve tried to reconstruct. We’ve discussed Perun, the quintessentially Indo-European thunderer and dragon-slayer. We’ve been introduced to Svarog, the creator and sky father. I touched upon Chernobog, the black god of woe who is likely of Altaic origins. I wrote at length about Mokosha, a Goddess deeply rooted in the cult of the household serpent, as well as spinning, fate, the damp earth, and the underworld. I ranted and raved about Zaria Morevna, and Marina Morevna, the two sea-born sisters of the sun who are like night and day. We have now seen that Jarilo is probably the most definitive identity that can be assigned to the sun, and that he likely was one of the divine twins. Khors and Dazbog may also represent these twins, but it’s hard to say. From this point forward, I feel I may want to take a break from writing about deities. Gods are not, after all, the only aspects of a religion or a culture.

  1. Yoffe, Mark, and Joseph Krafczik. Perun: The God of Thunder. New York: Peter Lang, 2003
  2. Wiener, Leo. Anthology of Russian Literature from the Earliest Period to the Present Time. Ann Arbor, Mich: University Microfilms International, 1976.
  3. Colarusso, John, and Adrienne Mayor. Nart Sagas from the Caucasus: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Circassians and Abkhazians. , 2016.
  4. Reeder, Roberta, V I. A. Propp, and V I. A. Propp. Russian Folk Lyrics. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993.
  5. Beza, Marcu. Paganism in Roumanian Folklore. , 2003.
  6. Costin, Claudia. Folkloric Aspects of the Romanian Imaginary and Myth. , 2018. 
  7. Mouse, Anon E, and Illustrated J. A. N. MATULKA. The Shoemakers Apron-20 Czech and Slovak Childrens Stories: Twenty Illustrated Slavic Children’s Stories. , 2017. 
  8. Colarusso, John, and Adrienne Mayor. Nart Sagas from the Caucasus: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Circassians and Abkhazians. , 2016.
  9. Colarusso, John, Tamirlan Salbiev, and Walter May. Tales of the Narts: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Ossetians. , 2016
  10. GLINSKI, A J. Polish Fairy Tales. Place of publication not identified: BLURB, 2017
  11. Makūnaitė, Albina, and Irina L. Zheleznova. The Sun Princess and Her Deliverer: A Lithuanian Folk Tale. Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1970.
  12. Pennick, Jones, and Nigel Pennick. A History of Pagan Europe. London: Routledge, 1995.
  13. McKinnell, John. Meeting the Other in Norse Myth and Legend. , 2017.
  14. Anthony, David W. The Horse, the Wheel and Language: How Bronze-Age Riders from the Eurasian Steppes Shaped the Modern World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010.
  15. Afanasʹev, A N, Norbert Guterman, Alexandre Alexeieff, and Roman Jakobson. Russian Fairy Tales. , 2017.
  16. 1885?-1934, Petrovitch W. M. Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians. Place of publication not identified: Hardpress Ltd, 2013
  17. Baudiš, Josef. The Key of Gold: 23 Czech Folk Tales. New York: Classic Books International, 2010.
  18. Smith, Sebastian. Allah’s Mountains: Politics and War in the Russian Caucasus. London: I.B. Tauris, 2005.
  19. Yves Bonnefoy (1993). American, African, and Old European Mythologies.
  20. Mallory, J P. In Search of the Indo-Europeans: Language, Archaeology, and Myth. New York, N.Y: Thames and Hudson, 2003
  21. Simonov, Pyotr. Essential Russian Mythology. London: Thorsons, 1997.
  22. MacDermott, Mercia. Bulgarian Folk Customs. Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley, 2010. 
  23. HadžiMuhamedović, Safet. Waiting for Elijah: Time and Encounter in a Bosnian Landscape. , 2018. 
  24. Bailey, James, and T G. Ivanova. Anthology of Russian Folk Epics (folklores and Folk Cultures of Eastern Europe). M.E. Sharpe Inc. / Books, 1998.
  25. Wratislaw, Albert H. Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources. , 2015
  26. Jakobson, Roman. To Honor Roman Jakobson: Essays on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday. , 1967
  27. Kocjubyns·kyj, Mychajlo M, and Bohdan Rubčak. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Littleton, Co: Ukrainian Acad. Pr, 1981.
  28. Mallory, J P. In Search of the Indo-Europeans: Language, Archaeology, and Myth. New York, N.Y: Thames and Hudson, 2003.

Svarog and the First Function

Svarog is a mysterious deity mentioned in medieval chronicles dealing with the early Slavs. Our most direct reference to him comes from the Russian Primary Chronicle. However, this reference deserves some context. It is actually a Slavonic translation of the Chronicle of Joannes Malalae, where references to the Greek Gods Helios and Hephaestus have been supplemented with references to Slavic deities. The entry runs as follows:

“Then began his reign Feosta (Hephaestus), whom the Egyptians called Svarog… After him ruled his son, his name was the Sun, and they called him Dažbog… Sun tzar, son of Svarog, this is Dazbog.” (1)

Please note that this is a fairly accurate translation of the original text which reads as follows:

 “After the death of Hephaestus, his son Helios reigned in Egypt for a period of 4,407 days, from which emerges the figure of twelve years and 97 days.”(2)

Consequently, there is very little here that can be taken at face value. Some have even questioned whether the correct names were substituted. On the other hand, we know that the name Zeus was regularly translated as “Perun” in Kievan Rus, which appears to be fundamentally correct. (3) Both were Gods of thunder.

Additionally, Svarog’s name almost certainly is related to the verb for “weld.” In modern day Russian, the infinitive form of this verb is “svarit.” Also related is “svarivati” meaning to “weld, braze, or forge.” (4) There is no etymological argument clearly linking Dazbog to the Sun. However, if Perun and Svarog were correctly identified on the basis of their most basic functions (Thunder, Blacksmithing) then it seems likely that Dazhbog was as well. Additionally, if you have read my previous posts, then you may recognize that the name “Dazhbog” does appear in the list of names from the pantheon erected by Prince Vladimir in Kiev.

An additional East Slavic reference to Svarog comes from a sermon, which condemns people praying to the fire used to dry grain and calling it Svarogich (son of Svarog). This is a reference to Svarog in a patronymic, but a reference nevertheless. If nothing else, the connection to fire is evident. Much farther west, the German missionary Thiemar of Mersberg encountered western Slavs whose chief deity was apparently called “Zuarasic”  (Svarozic) which is clearly another reference to Svarogich. (The replacement of “g” with “z” is a fairly standard instance of palatization, common in Satem languages.) He writes about a triangular town known as “Riedegost” which contained a major pagan temple. He remarks:

 “Inside, dressed in terrifying helmets and cuirasses stand statues of gods each with an engraved name, the first of whom bears the name Zuarasic who is honored and revered above all others by all people.”(4)

Based on this, it would appear that Svarog was the father of the supreme deitiy, at least among the people of Riedegost. While the Malalas Chronicle deserves to be viewed with suspicion, this role is at least consistent with him being the father of a major deity like the “Sun Tsar. “ Additionally, fire was also referred to as a son of Svarog, and few would argue that fire was of great importance to the Slavs. The implications of Svarog being the father of a supreme deity are significant. There is another crucial passage from the western Slavs, one recorded by the missionary Helmold. He writes:

“-But they do not deny that there is among the multiform godheads to whom they attribute plains and woods, sorrow and joy, one God in heaven ruling over the others. They hold that he, the all powerful one, looks only after heavenly matters; that the others, dispatching the duties assigned to them in obedience to him, proceeded from his blood; and that one excels another in the measure that he is nearer to this God of Gods.” (5)

I won’t go into the reliability of this passage, because I already have in my post on the Earth-Diver Creation myth. Suffice to say, the hierarchy described here is entirely consistent with what we would expect based on creation myths in Slavic folklore. Namely, a hierarchy closely aligned with that of their Uralic neighbors such as the Komi-Permyaks and Mordvins, whose creation stories are not very different from those found in Slavic folklore.

If we accept this passage, and we accept that the supreme deity at Riegegost was called “Son of Svarog” then it seems fairly straightforward to conclude that Svarog is this aloof “God of Gods” who cares only for heavenly matters. Helmold seems to imply that the major Gods are the ones most closely related to the most powerful deity. By default then, the sun would almost have to be among his progeny as well. If we look at Komi mythology, we can even see that the creators Jen and Omol have some interesting connections to blacksmithing. Jen is the first to invent the forge, but he does so only with help from Omol. (5) This is similar to the conflict over fire between God and the Aridnyk in Hutsul lore. (6) This seems to imply conflict between Svarog and his dark counterpart, Chernobog.

There is an interesting Russian fairy tale that seems to preserve a memory of this primordial conflict between two creators. That tale is Nikita the Tanner. In it, Nikita beats a dragon with a club until it offers to make peace with him. Nikita harnesses the dragon to a plow, and says that they should divide the world into two halves. The dragon plows a furrow between his half of the world and Nikita’s. Later, he is tricked into trying to plow the sea as well and he drowns. This episode has strong parallels in Christianized Russian folklore, where the plow is harnessed by Russia’s patron Saints of blacksmithing, Cosmas and Damien. (7)

 It is interesting that the dragon in Nikita the Tanner “drowns” beneath the sea. This has parallels in Romanian Earth Diver myths, where the evil creator is cast down beneath the sea where he now lives. (8) In another episode, a story opens with a kingdom that shares a border with a dragon’s territory. Evidently, the dragon made a deal with the Tsar, agreeing that he would stay on his side but eventually broke the promise. From this we can gather that there was a variant of the tale where the dragon really did divide up the Earth. Additionally, the other party of the agreement is no longer a smith or a tanner, but in this version a Tsar who rules a kingdom.(8) This largely confirms the notion that the serpent or dragon was a creature from the underworld, one who sometimes ventured above and had to be defeated or “returned” to his proper place.

In one interesting Russian tale, “Vasilisa with the Golden Tresses and Ivan the Pea” the heroic warrior goes to rescue his golden-haired sister from a dragon. She gives him three gallons of mead to drink, and a smith forges a ridiculously heavy mace for him to wield before he goes off to slay the dragon. Afterwards, he retrieves the waters of life and restores youth to an old woman(9), reminiscent of Lady Friday in the Romanian tale Zana Zorilor(10) This plot takes an interesting turn however; The blacksmith who forged the mace is then made King. (9)

This should all be familiar ground for people who have read my previous posts about Perun, Maria, and Indo-European mythology. This story actually parallels the story of Indra’s exploits in the Vedas. Indra drank the strength-giving elixir known as Soma, the food of the Gods. He then slew the dragon Vritra, and released the waters. He also freed the dawn Goddess Ushas when she was taken.(11) As mentioned in my last post, golden-hair and the association with Soma are both traits of the Slavic dawn or solar Goddess. This is a common formula in Eastern Europe. Farther south, such as Slovakia, the maiden may give the hero magical wine instead of mead to strengthen him for his conflict with the dragon, but the concept is well-established in Slavic folktales.

In the Vedas, the creator of the thunderbolt wielded by Indra against Vritra was Tvastr, the craftsman progenitor God. According to the Rgveda, the craftsman deity Tvastr was the one “born in the beginning” who made the Earth and Sky for his house. (12) If we accept the parallels with Slavic folklore, then this is consistent with the notion that Svarog was a kind of primordial deity who claimed kingship over the cosmos.

Some sources claim Svarog is derived from “Svarga” meaning “heaven” in Sanskrit. However, there are etymological problems with this derivation. In order to be plausible, it would have to be a direct loan into Slavic from Proto-Indo-Iranian. Yet virtually all Indo-Iranian loans in Slavic are of distinctly Iranian origin. However, the cognate of “Svarga” in an Iranian language would probably be “Hwarga” or something similar. Not that this matters, because as a blacksmith deity, his name clearly is related to a Slavic word for forging or welding. The verb “Svarit” meaning weld is derived from the Slavic word for “cook” which is “Varit.” Therefore, “Svarit” is clearly a term of Slavic origins meaning to “cook together”, i.e. to join or form using heat. Instead of Svarga, it appears that Tvastr is the most obvious counterpart for Svarog in the Vedas.

It appears that the Ossetians and their neighbors also remember a kind of heavenly smith deity. In the Ossetian corpus of the Nart Sagas, this deity appears under the name “Kurdalaegon.” He is among the earliest generation of beings mentioned, predating even the marriage of Akhshartag and Zerasha. In fact, when the twins Akhshartag and Akhshar are born, their father hosts a feast. When the feast is over, we are told that Kurdalaegon rode back to heaven on a fiery cloud, while Donbettyr returned to the watery deep. In the opening pages of the Ossetian corpus, Kurdalaegon is therefore one of two primordial figures used to frame the cosmology of the Nart Sagas. He clearly corresponds to the upper world while Donbettyr inhabits the sea. While he does not forge the flashing sword of the thunder hero Batraz, he does temper Batraz himself with a coat of steel, thus rendering him practically invulnerable.

 In fact both Batraz and Shoslan, two of the main Nart Heroes, are said to have been coated in steel by him at birth. Kurdalaegon can therefore be seen as a paternal figure who forges or cooks the newborn Gods in his forge. If Batraz resembles a storm deity, then Shoshlan resembles the Norse Baldr. He is blessed at birth with near-invulnerability, but the trickster Syrdon reveals the one thing that can kill him, and indirectly causes his death. Interestingly, the steel skin of Batraz is never breached by anything. As mentioned in my previous post, the Narts also have a golden apple tree, much like the Norse Gods.(13) All in all, we have some strong indications that these characters are remnants of an Indo-European mythology. The most obvious source of these motifs would be the Sarmatians, who spoke the ancestor language of modern day Ossetian. Even variants of the Nart Sagas preserved in non-Indo-European languages like Circassian show evidence of the same origins.

In the Circassian corpus of the Nart Sagas, the heavenly smith is referred to as Tlepsh. This word appears to be of Indo-European origin, and is related to the Greek word for iron “Khalups.” One myth about Tlepsh stands out above all as the most fascinating. In this myth, Tlepsh sets out seeking the edge of the world. We are told that he encounters “Lady Tree” during his travels. She is described as follows:

“It was a tree and yet not a tree, a person and yet not a person. You would not be able to comprehend its true nature. Its roots ran deep into the earth. Its hair, like a cloud, rose high into the sky. Its two arms were like a person’s, and the cheeks of its face were the loveliest of lovelies. Lady Tree fell in love with Tlephsh and invited him in. She let him eat and drink and lie down to rest. In the middle of the night, Tlepsh awoke and said to her, “I must seek something,” and he resolved to leave. “This will not do!” Lady Tree protested. “I am a princess. Until now, no mere mortal has reached me.”

“I am one of the gods,” replied Tlepsh. He stood up and made love to her.” (14)

This appears to be a reference to a kind of personified world tree. Climbing or riding the world tree is a common shamanic practice in north Eurasia. The Norse deity Odin hung on the world tree Yggdrasil for nine days, but Yggdrasil is also called “Odin’s Steed”(15), thus making Odin the rider of the tree by analogy. Similarly, in Mongolia, the Buryat ceremony of Shanar involves initiating an apprentice shaman by having him ascend the world tree.(16) In this instance, it is tempting to attribute a similar shamanic character to the heavenly smith of the Nart Sagas. That the Lady Tree represents a kind of shamanic guide seems to be confirmed moments later in the narrative, when she describes what she offers:

“Do not set off Tlepsh. I shall give you the knowledge that you need. My roots run deep into the ground. I know the life that lies under the earth. My hair rises into the sky, and I know the life that is in the heavens. The earth has no edge.” But Tlepsh would not be her beloved. “Would you set off into the world, which doesn’t have a boundary? It doesn’t exist. Don’t go! I shall acquaint you with the stars in heaven. I shall place in your palm the life which lies beneath the earth, and I shall give you all that is on the surface of the earth.”

Tlepsh does not listen to her, and is forced to return to Lady Tree embarrassed. When she asks him what he has discovered, he admits that the earth has no edge. Though he refuses much of her wisdom, the fact that he lies with her for a night does not seem arbitrary. In another narrative, we see that Tlepsh’s soul leaves his body in the form of an insect while he sleeps. (14) It is difficult not to conclude that the heavenly smith, like the Norse Odin, preserves an archaic memory of “shamanism” for lack of a better term. If we go by the tripartite division of Indo-European divinities proposed by Dumuzeil (17), Tlepsh would appear to be a God of the first function, which was associated with legal as well as magical and religious duties. In many ways, this underscores the thin line between labor and magic. Today metalworking would be considered a typical example of manual labor, but when metal-working was a fairly new and prestigious skill it was likely regarded as a kind of magic.

The parallels to Odin are interesting. It could be that both deities have myths that draw from a common ecstatic or meditative tradition in Europe. Alternatively, Odin and the heavenly smith of the northern Caucasus may both be partially derived from a common Proto-Indo-European deity. The most likely candidate would be the Indo-European Sky Father, Dyḗus Ph2tḗr. This deity became Teiwaz or Tyr among the Germanic peoples, whom Odin likely acquired some characteristics from. The heavenly smith Kurdalaegon may also have taken on this role at some point. The personification of the world tree as a woman is indeed interesting, and rich in spiritual meaning, although I can find little to link it to the Slavic traditions. It is possible that Svarog had a similar relationship to a cosmic or supra-cosmic female presence who has not been recognizably remembered in folk tradition.

Similarly, the Finnish heavenly smith deity Ilmarinen has a name derived from the root “Ilma” meaning
“sky” or the air. As a word for sky, this root was later replaced by the Indo-European loan “Taivas” which is a direct cognate of the name of the Proto-Indo-European Sky Father, probably from Baltic. (18) Thus, the heavenly smith Ilmarinen can be considered a syncretic figure derived in part from Dyḗus Ph2tḗr. Even the origin of fire was attributed to Ilmarinen, which is strangely similar to the Slavic tradition of calling fire “son of Svarog.”  It is unknown when and where the Uralic peoples were first acquainted with metalwork, but it would almost certainly have been from the early Indo-European language speakers. It is noteworthy that the Finnic languages contain loans from a distinctly Indo-Iranian (as opposed to just Indo-European) source. This demonstrates how the location of the Finns in relation to other groups has changed over the past few thousand years. If nothing else, it shows that the Proto-Finns originated somewhere much farther east than modern day Finland.

 All in all, the evidence seems to suggest that Svarog was the Slavic equivalent of the primordial Sky Father and male progenitor deity. He likely was associated with the first function, and could act as a priest or shaman of sorts. Typical of a first function deity, he may also have been associated with legal matters like contracts. One likely area in his sphere of influence was marriage. One bylina mentions a mysterious smith who “forges the fates of those who will wed.” (19) Similarly, the blacksmith Saints Kosmas and Damien were often implored in Russia to “forge a wedding.”  Recall that these are the same saints who sometimes harnessed a dragon and used it to plow a furrow, similar to Nikita the Tanner. The Russian scholar Rybakov came to pretty much the same conclusion about these Saints, namely that they acquired traits of Svarog. (20)

The association with marriage likely connects him to destiny, as well as contracts or oaths such as marriage bonds. All typical elements of the first function. His specific association with craftsmanship or blacksmithing appears to be uniquely Indo-Iranian, hearkening back to the Vedic Tvastr and Ossetian Kurdalaegon. We do not see this association in most of Europe, except in cultures who had direct contact with Asia via the steppe.

This brings us to the question of Svarogich, or the Svarogichi. If we accept that Helmold’s “God of Gods” is Svarog, then there must have been a number of them. All of the top deities would theoretically be his sons and daughters, or perhaps in some cases his grandchildren. This includes Perun, as well as the Sun Tsar Dazhbog. Jarilo may also be grouped into this category. I’ve posted about Perun, but what about Jarilo and Dazhbog? Other than being plausible “Svarogichi” or sons of Svarog, where do they fit in?

(1) Yoffe, Mark, and Joseph Krafczik. Perun: The God of Thunder. New York: Peter Lang, 2003

(2) Malalas, John, Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott. The Chronicle of John Malalas. , 2017. 

(3) Rudy, Stephen. Contributions to Comparative Mythology: Studies in Linguistics and Philology, 1972-1982. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1985.

(4) Basilevsky, Alexander. Early Ukraine: A Military and Social History to the Mid-19th Century. , 2016

(4) Gray, Louis H, George F. Moore, and J A. MacCulloch. The Mythology of All Races. New York: Cooper Square Publishers, 1964

(5) Konakov, N D, V V. Napolʹskikh, Anna-Leena Siikala, and Mihály Hoppál. Komi Mythology. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 2003.

(6) Kocjubyns·kyj, Mychajlo M, and Bohdan Rubčak. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Littleton, Co: Ukrainian Acad. Pr, 1981

(7) Johns, Andreas. Baba Yaga: The Ambiguous Mother and Witch of the Russian Folktale. New York [etc.: Peter Lang, 2010.

(8) Haney, Jack V. Russian Wondertales: Ii. Armonk, N.Y: M.E. Sharpe, 2001.

(9) CURTIN, JEREMIAH. Myths and Folk-Tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and Magyars (classic Reprint). Place of publication not identified: FORGOTTEN Books, 2016.

(10) Kremnitz, Mite, and J M. Percival. Romanian Fairy Tales. , 2010. 

(11) Dahlquist, Allan. Megasthenes and Indian Religion: A Study in Motives and Types. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1977

(12) Shastri, Biswanarayan, and Maṇḍana Miśra. Bhāravidyā-saurabham =: Bhāratavidyāsaurabham : Dr. Biswanarayan Shastri Felicitation Volume. Guwahati: Published by Manorama Prakashan on behalf of Dr. Biswanarayan Shastri Felicitation Committee, 1997.

(13) Colarusso, John, Tamirlan Salbiev, and Walter May. Tales of the Narts: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Ossetians. , 2016.

(14) Colarusso, John, and Adrienne Mayor. Nart Sagas from the Caucasus: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Circassians and Abkhazians. , 2016.

(15) Raudvere, Catharina, Kristina Jennbert, and Anders Andrén. Old Norse Religion in Long-Term Perspectives: Origins, Changes and Interactions. Nordic Academic Press, 2014.

(16) Turner, Kevin. Sky Shamans of Mongolia: Meetings with Remarkable Healers. , 2016. 

(17) Winn, Shan M. M. Heaven, Heroes, and Happiness: : the Indo-European Roots of Western Ideology. Lanham: University Press of America, 1995. 

(18) Abercromby, John. With the Magic Songs of the West Finns. New York, NY: AMS Press, 1972. 

(19) HAPGOOD, ISABEL F. L. O. R. E. N. C. E. Epic Songs of Russia (classic Reprint). Place of publication not identified: FORGOTTEN Books, 2015. 

(20) Ivanits, Linda J, Felix J. Oinas, and Sophie Schiller. Russian Folk Belief. , 2015

How Do You Solve a Problem Like “Maria?” (Part 2)

In my last post, I explored the various pagan “Maria’s” found in Slavic folklore. After reviewing the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk, I noted that the Goddess figure named Maria appears to be associated with two different forms- one avian and one snakelike.  The connection I drew to the Greco-Scythian art of the Bosporan kingdom may seem like a leap to some. After all, most Slavic folklore can be dated back no farther than 500 years, if that, and the Bosporan Kingdom ceased to exist on the shores of modern day Ukraine and Russia nearly 2000 years ago. Even so, folklore can be remarkably conservative.

In this post, I will be pursuing that Scytho-Sarmatian connection much more thoroughly. In my view, this unconventional approach offers the best chance of reconstructing the meaning behind a number of folklore figures who all have names resembling “Maria.” Let’s start with the present however, and work our way backwards. Why should we even think that a Goddess figure exists in Slavic fairy tales recorded in the 19th century? There has been much research claiming this for Baba Yaga, but why should Maria Morevna or Elena the Wise be identified as modern survivals of anything ancient?

As it happens, the scholar of linguistics and archaeology Elizabeth Wayland Barber has written an entire book that places the Slavic bird-maiden (and her relatives) center stage. (1) In the opening section of her book “The Dancing Goddess” she writes the following:

“As I perused a 19th century Russian folktale one day, a Dancing Goddess caught my eye. She was new to me, and yet I instantly saw that I already knew her from medieval Slavic artifacts, and indeed, from Classical and preclassical Greek ones, though scholars scratched their heads as to who she might be. Startled, I took up the chase searching for her and her sisters throughout ethnographic lore and archaeological reports from eastern and southeastern Europe.”

Encountering this book was an amazing coincidence for me, because I have had a very similar experience. I was struck by the titular character of the fairy tale “Maria Morevna.” Much as with Dr. Barber, this fairy tale Goddess has led me on a merry chase. As this post will show, she remains the most complex and confusing pagan figure I have ever researched. Granted, Dr. Barber started with a different fairy tale titled “The Frog Tsarevna.” As it turns out though, both of these tales revolve around a kind of divine bird maiden. The tale that inspired “The Dancing Goddess” runs as follows.

Three brothers go to seek wives, and decide that they will find them by shooting arrows at random. The first two shoot arrows and marry fair maidens that they encounter while retrieving them. Dr. Barber has some interesting speculations about the symbolism of “shooting arrows.” In her view, this is a veiled reference to impregnation, which in agrarian societies often preceded marriage. The third brother’s arrow leads him to a frog, however. With typical fairy tale logic, he accepts his fate and marries the frog. What follows is a sequence of bride-testing, involving traditional tasks like cooking and spinning. The brother’s brides all compete and the frog turns out to be the most skilled. It becomes clear that the frog is a magical being, and that she can appear as a beautiful woman on the dance floor when she chooses.

After seeing her in human form, the protagonist finds her frog skin and burns it without questioning her further. When she finds out what he has done, she becomes sad and makes the following declaration:

“Oh, dear Tsarevitch, what hast thou done? There was but a short time left for me to wear the ugly frogskin. The moment was near when we could have been happy together forever. Now I must bid thee good-by. Look for me in a far-away country to which no one knows the roads, at the palace of Kostshei the Deathless;” and Vassilissa turned into a white swan and flew away through the window.” (1)

It is interesting that the heroine of this story is both a swan maiden and a frog maiden. This recalls the juxtaposition of the bird maiden and snake-limbed Goddess in Scythian art. Similarly, in the Nart Sagas, the daughters of the sea king Donbettyr may take one of two different animal forms. Zerasha and her two sisters take the forms of doves whereas another, unnamed daughter takes the form of a turtle. When her husband Khamyts insults her, she leaves him forever. (2) In Romanian folktales, the animal bride may also take the form of a turtle. (3) In Ukrainian lore, it’s fairly clear that the snake wife is interchangeable with the frog wife. When the snake wife’s husband mocks her for being a snake, she too leaves him forever. (4) These are all fairly typical conclusions for an animal bride story, which have a wide distribution across Eurasia. (1)

Going back to the “Dancing Goddess” by Elizabeth Barber, it was is at this juncture of the book that I realized that the frog tsarevna was related to Maria Morevna, a fairy tale heroine that captured my own imagination some time ago. She too is a bird maiden- a symbol that Elizabeth Barber identifies even in medieval art from Kiev. One fascinating pair of Medieval Kievan earrings depicts birds with woman’s heads and Christian haloes, almost as though they were saints. (1)

 Like the Frog Tsarevna, Maria Morevna is also kidnapped by Koschei, or Kostshei the Deathless. This villain from Slavic fairy tales is a complex character. His name is probably derived from the Slavic word for “bone.” Thus he could be interpreted as “the bony one” or simply “bones.” The most obvious association that comes from his name is one of death or perhaps the underworld. His weakness (in some cases his soul or “death”) is hidden somewhere, and the hero must find it in order to defeat him and retrieve his wife. This hidden weakness may be something as straightforward as a magnificent horse, or it may be something as esoteric as a needle hidden within an egg, hidden within a hare, hidden within a duck, hidden beneath an oak tree.(5)  This tale type is particularly popular in Eastern Europe and the Caucasus region, although it is not entirely unknown in other parts of Europe. For example, the Norwegian tale “The Giant Who Had No Heart In His Body” is clearly based on a similar concept.

Many variants depict Koschei as a dragon. Yet even in these stories, the link to the realm of the dead is evident. As the hero’s horse warns him in one Hungarian tale: “Now listen to me, dear master. We must not go directly to the dragon’s, but in a round-about way. For even the dead lying in their graves will tell the dragon when a stranger is wandering in his country.” (6)

Additionally, the vessels which house Koschei’s soul or his “death” tend to be things associated with life or spring, such as a duck, a hare, or an egg. Our knowledge of Koschei and his narrative can be supplemented by some lore from the northern-Caucasus. Ogres or monsters with hidden weaknesses, very similar to the Russian Koschei, appear in the Nart Sagas of the northern Caucasus region. In Circassian lore, we can glean a couple of things from his counterpart Arkhon Arkosz. For one the association with dragons in Slavic countries is no accident; Arkhon also appears as a large snake at times. Secondly, the association with death is also present in these narratives; Arkhon’s horse “Zhaqa” is literally named “grave mound.” (7) Confusingly, Koschei may be a seducer rather than an abductor. The bride he takes from the hero may turn out to be a treacherous adulteress, and in one story the mysterious prize hidden within various forms underneath an oak tree is her lost love for the hero, rather than Koschei’s death. (10)(16)

The Russian tale of “Maria Morevna” is one of the most popular to feature Koschei. In my opinion, the titular character Maria Morevna is by far the most interesting of the many pagan “Maria’s” in Russian folklore. Part of the reason for that is simply in her name. “Morevna” literally means “daughter of the sea” or “sea-daughter” in Russian. Just going off of the heroine’s name, we have a strong suggestion of pagan beliefs. Daughters of the sea-king are common in Russian fairy tales. Often times they are bird maidens, specifically dove-maidens. For example, see “The Sea King and Vassilisa the Wise.” (5) This tendency even tracks in Poland, where “The Waternick’s Daughter” is also a dove-maiden. (8)

Overall, Maria Morevna’s traits seem to  connect her to the Iranian cultures of the steppes, specifically the Sarmatians and their descendants, the Ossetians. The dove-maiden sea daughter of the Ossetian Nart Sagas is Zerasha. Along with her two sisters, she steals golden apples in the form of a dove. The hero shoots her with an arrow, and pursues her to her kingdom beneath the waves. This bloody introduction somehow results in the two marrying. This is somewhat similar to the Irish story in which Cu Chulainn shoots Fand in the form of a bird, then later falls in love with her (Although Fand is actually the wife of the sea deity.) In general, this sequence seems linked to the fairy tale Aarne-Thompson type 550, although some narratives classified under this number appear more mythological than others. In the Grimm’s Fairy tale version, “The Golden Bird” any mythological significance seems to be entirely forgotten. The Golden Bird in German fairy tales is just a pretty bird. By contrast, the pagan elements seem exceptionally well preserved in one Serbian tale, where she takes the form of a maiden who shapeshifts into a peahen. (9)

Maria Morevna is not an isolated case. This basic character type has a number of names in Russia, ranging from Tsar Devitsya (Tsar Maiden) to Sinoglazka (Blue-Eyes). (10) She is easy to recognize however; She is a bird-maiden, usually a dove, a daughter of the Sea King, a warrior, and closely associated with magical apples. In some stories, healing waters flow from her very hands and feet. In short, she screams “Goddess” from the pages of Russian folkore, perhaps just as loudly as Baba Yaga.

The association with golden apples and the waters of life likely links her to the immortality-bestowing food of the Gods in Indo-European mythology. Golden apples brought eternal life to the Norse Gods. The Norse Goddess Idunn was abducted by the giant Thjazi, thus depriving Asgard of her golden apples. Without their divine food, the Norse Gods began to age.(11) It is tempting to link Thjazi with Koschei, the abductor of Maria Morevna.

In the Circassian Nart Sagas the food of the Gods is “Sana” (Cognate of Vedic Soma) who is also personified as a warrior maiden called “Nart Lady Sana.” She may also be interchangeable with Satanaya, who is keeper of the magical apples. In one tale, Lady Sana kills her own lover by accident and then plunges a dagger into her own heart. “Medicinal waters” then spring up from the ground where her blood falls. Supposedly these waters can gift the drinker with strength, activity, and growth, and even heal heartsickness. Similarly, in the Russian tale “Water of Youth, Water of Life, Water of Death” the warrior maiden who keeps the water of life strikes down the “hero” who kissed her in her sleep (or in some even more problematic versions, rapes her) but falls in love with him as he lies dying at her feet. She moistens his wound with the water of life, and the two are married. (12)

 A closely related winged maiden shows up in one Russian tale as Elena the wise. Elena is captured like a typical bird maiden when the hero steals her wings while she is bathing. When she recovers them however, she sets a high price on her return; She will marry him if he can hide somewhere that she cannot find him, but if he tries and fails she will decapitate him. This may seem a simple task, but Elena has a magical mirror that allows her to see all things. (13)

 Similarly, the Sarmatians buried their priestesses with mirrors, perhaps because they were associated with magic or divination. The Scythian winged Goddess was also evidently associated with mirrors, and she appears depicted on the Kelermes mirror, a 7th century B.C. Scythian artifact excavated from a burial mound in modern day Russia. The winged Goddess sometimes appears with a dove, where she is thought to represent the Greco-Scythian Argimpasa-Aphrodite. The connection to mirrors and divination fits with what little we know of the Scythian Argimpasa, who was worshipped by a class of “effeminate” priests known as Enarees (Literally “Not Men.”) who practiced divination or fortune telling.(14) In all likelihood then, Elena the Wise and her counterparts can be traced back to the Scythian Argimpasa.

Another trait linking the folktale character Maria Morevna to the Sarmatians is her depiction as a female warrior. Unlike the later Slavic tribes, the Sarmatians were famous for their warrior women. Indeed, archaeologists have uncovered numerous remains of female warriors from iron age Sarmatian burial sites. (15) Disappointingly, PhD Andreas Johns assumes that the warrior maiden of Russian fairy tales is purely a product of people’s imaginations. She even goes so far as to attribute her to Freudian “male fear of castration.” (10)

This is one of my main gripes about Andreas Johns and her book on Baba Yaga; She often seems more concerned with psychological theories than with history. So much so that she does not even mention the iron age female warrior burials that dot the landscape of modern day Ukraine. This would seem pertinent to the discussion of female warriors in folklore of that same region. Female warriors called “Polyanitsas” also feature in the Russian epic songs known as bylinas, which are known to draw (in part) from historical individuals and events. (16)

As mentioned, Maria Morevna and other bird maidens have clear counterparts in the Nart Sagas. The only complication with the Nart Sagas is that there are two “Golden Apple” Goddesses. One is Zerasha, but the other is her daughter Sana, Psatina, Satana, or Satanaya. (2)(7) Interestingly, no Slavic tale distinguishes these two figures. In every Slavic tale I have read (which is a lot) the traits of these two figures are combined into one. For example, in the Nart Sagas, it is Satana or Psatina who must trick the counterpart of “Koschei” into revealing his weakness, whereas her mother is the bird maiden who stole golden apples. In Slavic tales, the same female character almost always is a bird maiden, and her appearance frequently is linked to an apple-theft episode. The Peahen Maiden from Serbian lore steals golden apples, marries the hero, is later kidnapped, and must find out the weakness of her kidnapper. (9)  Interestingly, in the Ossetian sagas, Satana is born from the tomb of Zerasha after she dies. Thus, she can be literally interpreted as Zerasha reborn.  Like her mother, Satana is closely associated with golden apples, and is often depicted as the keeper or custodian of the golden apple tree. (2)(7) This is extremely close to the warrior maiden Sinoglazka, Tsar Devitsya, Maria Morevna etc. who is also the keeper of the magic apples and is abducted by Koschei.  Satana also possesses a heavenly mirror which allows her to see everything happening on earth (2) very much like the winged maiden Elena the Wise.

It might be the previously mentioned Serbian variant that is most archaic or Proto-Indo-European.  I say this because in many Indo-European mythologies, it seems the analogous character is often one of nine sisters. The Serbian poem preserves the memory of nine bird-maiden sisters, whereas in Russia the number is often three, twelve, or thirteen.  

The Norse sea Goddess Ran has nine daughters (17), one of whom is named “Dufa” which can mean “wave” but also “dove” in old Norse. Interestingly, there is one Danish fairy tale with a dove sea-daughter.  In the Arthurian Romances, we hear of Morgen Le Faye, whose name likely means “sea born”, cognate to Irish “Muirgen” (aka “Li Ban”) Welsh “Morgen” (mermaid.) Morgen Le Faye is said to be one of nine queens who rule “Avalon”, the blessed island of apples. It is this island where Arthur goes in order to heal his wounds.(18)

The Russian “Maria Morevna” seems closely related to the Celtic “Morgen.” At the root of the name is the word “Mor” which in Proto-Indo-European simply meant “sea” or perhaps “body of water.”(19) In Russia, the daughter of the sea is virtually always a dove-maiden.  In Greek mythology, Aphrodite is said to have been born from the sea. In fact the name “Aphrodite” translates literally to “foam born” and her sacred bird is a dove. This may be one reason why the Scythian Argimpasa was identified with her.

There is even an interesting episode of the Illiad where Aphrodite and two other Goddesses show their nude bodies to Paris, so that he can judge who is fairest. The prize they seek is the golden apple, which Paris awards to Aphrodite.  In the original myth, this was probably a courtship or marriage story, as evidenced by the fact that Eris presents the golden apples at a wedding.

 This is extremely close to the Ossetian Nart Sagas. In the Ossetian narrative, the dove-maiden Zerasha is chosen for a bride from among three sisters by Akhshartag, who follows her beneath the sea after she steals a golden apple from his people. In fact, in the Circassian version, we are told that the dove-maidens deliberately stole the golden apples in order to obtain Nart husbands. (7) This might be the equivalent of breaking into a man’s house and stealing a ring from him today. Essentially, they have taken the divine wedding gift without permission!

Similarly, in Norse mythology, the first marriage gift offered by Freyr to the giantess Gerd is golden apples. (11) Golden apples were clearly a wedding gift thought to be worthy of Goddesses. In Greek mythology, Hercules must journey to the garden of Hesperides, and retrieve a golden apple from Hera’s apple tree. The tree, we are told, was a wedding gift from Zeus. This may explain why Maria Morevna and her counterparts steal golden apples as a bird in some opening narratives, but are later portrayed as the keeper of the apples. As her wedding gift, they belong to her completely once she marries.

While the daughter of the sea in Slavic fairy tales may be a fairy tale character now, her connection to this mythic cycle involving the dove and the golden apple likely demonstrate her divine status in pre-Christian Slavic culture. Based on all of this, I would tentatively reconstruct an Indo-European Goddess named “Morgen” or something similar, said to be born of the sea. She evidently was very attractive and took the form of a dove or bird. She was associated with the food of the Gods, either Soma, “Sana” or golden apples, which may have originally been a wedding gift to her. She likely survived into Scythian times as “Argimpasa”, then later forked into “Zerasha”, “Satana”, and the Slavic “Morevna” or “Sea-Daughter.” Related figures may also include Aphrodite, the Norse “Dufa” and Celtic “Morgen, Muirgen.”

There is a slight issue regarding this Goddess’s connection to the Indo-European dawn Goddess. This may seem contradictory for a daughter of the sea, but the association between dawn and the sea is a common one. In one Cossack tale, there is a riddle about why the sun turns red as it sets. The riddle is answered by a dove-maiden who calls herself the sun’s own daughter. According to her, three beautiful women emerge from the sea to greet him, and he turns red upon seeing them.(4) It is extremely interesting that one name of the Lithuanian dawn Goddess, Ausrine, was “Mariu Pana” or “Maiden of the Sea.” (32) Sources explaining this title are scarce, but from what I can gather, Ausrine was born from the sea, and lived on an island in the east.

Some other tales seem to hint at such a connection with the dawn. For example, many of the traits mentioned here show up in the Romanian fairy tale about “Zana Zorilor” the dawn fairy. She too possesses the waters of life, and is kissed in her sleep by the hero. In one Czechoslovak tale, there is a degree of similarity with the dawn-maiden Zlatovlaska, the golden haired. At the end of the narrative, she fulfills the role of resurrecting the hero with the waters of life and death, and prior to that we are told the following about her:

“She’s the golden-haired daughter of the King of the Crystal Palace. Do you see the faint outlines of an island over yonder? That’s where she lives. The king has twelve daughters but Zlatovlaska alone has golden hair. Each morning at dawn a wonderful glow spreads over land and sea. That’s Zlatovlaska combing her golden hair.”(20)

Similarly, “Zerasha” means “golden haired” in Ossetian. It is noteworthy that the Slavic word for dawn is actually an Iranian loan, cognate to Persian “Zar” for gold. Why borrow such a word? It is tempting to conclude that the term had religious significance, much like the word for “God” which was also borrowed by the Slavs from an Iranian source.

The Komi-Permyak genealogical myth has some parallels to the Ossetian tale of Zerasha in the Nart Sagas. According to the Komi, their ancestor married “Zaran”, the daughter of the sun. She later had to return to heaven, leaving her family behind, but the Komi-Permyaks of northwest Russia are said to be her descendants. It is tempting to link her to the Slavic summer solstice belief that dew was sacred during midsummer. (1) According to the Komi, the summer dew is in fact the tears of Zaran. (21)

In the Lay of Igor’s Campaign, there is an offhand reference to the Russians as the “grandchildren of Dazhbog” who is  also referred to in the Russian Primary Chronicle as the “Sun Tsar.” (22) This may imply a similar genealogical myth in which the Russians were said to be descended from the daughter of the sun deity. How to reconcile this with the Scythian genealogical myth involving a snake woman is difficult. However, it could well be that genealogical myths varied significantly from clan to clan or tribe to tribe. Despite differences, the similarities in these East European myths of divine ancestry are still striking.

It is noteworthy that the Nart Sagas include a turtle maiden without a name, almost as an afterthought, long after the named dove maidens make an appearance. Like the dove maidens however, she is a daughter of Donbettyr and marries one of two brothers. (2) Although the turtle maiden has been inserted into a different generation of the Nart genealogy, it reads like an attempt to reconcile or at least include different versions of the animal bride ancestor myth. It is worth noting once more that the Roman poet Valerius Flaccus made a potentially insightful reference to the Scythian genealogical myth. According to him, the female ancestor in the myth was a “Hora” or personified season. (14) Even the Komi myth involving the sun’s daughter Zaran appears to be an explanation of the seasons, attributing them to the sun’s anger over the marriage of his daughter Zaran, and associating the summer dew with her tears. (21) This general concept of marrying a Hora or temporal Goddess may be the common element in these myths.

I think it’s likely that Maria Morevna was sometimes worshipped as a dawn or morning-star Goddess, and probably always a temporal Goddess of some sort. In his book, “Songs of the Russian People” W.R.S. Ralston even remarks offhandedly that Maria Morevna may be the rising sun, although he says frustratingly little else about the matter.(23)

However, I believe that much of Maria Morevna’s mythology may be traced back to a different figure in the Proto-Indo-European religion.  Another, closely related candidate for her original identity would be the daughter of the sun. This requires some explanation. The Proto-Indo-European religion may have distinguished between the dawn Goddess and the daughter of the sun. Our clearest hint of this comes from an interesting correspondence between Baltic and Vedic (Indian) mythology. In Vedic myth, the sun God Surya has a daughter who is also called “Surya” (slightly different emphasis on the last vowel.) She marries the divine twins, the Aswins, and is evidently associated with the Soma ritual.(24) In the Rig Veda, we can read the following about her link to Soma. (25)

“Flow onward, with thy juice unto the banquet of the Mighty Gods. Flow hither for our strength and fame. O Indu, we draw nigh to thee, with this one object day by day: To thee alone our prayers are said. By means of this eternal fleece may Surya’s daughter purify thy Soma that is flowing forth.”

This seems to connect her to Soma, the food of the Vedic Indian Gods. This may place the female Surya in the same family as the various golden apple Goddesses of Europe like the Norse Idunn or the north Caucasian Sana, Satana, and Satanaya. Interestingly however, she is completely distinct from the Vedic dawn Goddess, Ushas.  Ushas is the mother of the divine twins, whereas the female Surya is their wife. (24)(25) Similarly in Baltic mythology, the daughter of the sun Goddess Saule is called “Saule Meitas” (maiden sun) and she also marries the divine twins, or “Asvienai” in Lithuanian (24) (19). Some see her as simply a youthful incarnation of her mother.  It is interesting that in Lithuanian mythology golden apples appear to be primarily associated with the sun Goddess Saule, not Ausrine the morning star. (31)

Therefore the Proto-Indo-European religion likely also distinguished between “dawn” and the daughter of the sun who married the divine twins. Many researchers believe that the Indo-European religion had a sun Goddess and a dawn Goddess. (24)(19) In this case, the female Surya of the Vedas would likely correspond to the former, and/or to her daughter rather than to the dawn.

 In the Nart Sagas, Zerasha clearly marries the divine twin Akhshartag, brother of Akhshar. Her arguable second incarnation, the daughter born from her tomb, Satana, is the keeper of the divine food. (2)(7) This possibly links much of the dove-maiden’s mythology with the daughter of the sun, not necessarily the Proto-Indo-European dawn Goddess. Of course, these roles need not have been mutually exclusive by late pagan times. This is particularly true if the Slavs believed in three Zoryas or dawns, as discussed in the last post. In that case, the “Saule Meitas” or Maiden Sun could have easily been identified with the morning, who was also likely considered youthful or renewed.

Undoubtedly, these two Goddesses were conflated at times, particularly in folktales that came after Christian times. In his book on Indo-European poetry and myth, M.L. West notes that Slavic lore routinely confuses the daughter of the sun with the sister of the sun. In Lithuania the daughter of the sun is celebrated on Midsummer (24) yet as we have seen in Bulgaria, the sun and his sister the morning star are celebrated by the South Slavs on Midsummer.(1)  However, in the Proto-Indo-European religion, there are some strong indications that these two female deities should be separate. The sister of the sun would appear to be the dawn or morning star, which light the sky just before sunrise, whereas the sun Goddess or daughter of the sun is more clearly linked to the food of the Gods. Even so, one can find stories in which “the Sun’s Sister” has the apples of youth. (13) In the Hungarian variant of the same tale, she is simply called “The Queen of Immortality” and she is said to rule the land without death. (6)

Going back to Maria Morevna, the name “Maria” is obviously a Christian name. In my view, there are two Pre-Christian names which may be associated with the folk tale characters reviewed thus far. In all likelihood, they may be equated with Zaria (dawn) or with at least one of the three Zoryas. Additionally, she is probably linked with the Slavic deity with the name “Zhiva” whose name simply means “life.” This name would appear to link her to the “Queen of Immortality” mentioned in Hungarian folk tales (6) whose East Slavic counterpart, the sun’s sister, also possesses the apples of youth.(13)

According to the Saxon Chronicles by Conrad Boto, Zhiva was depicted as holding a golden apple. (26) Additionally, the 16th century Ragusan Chronicler Mavro Orbini mentions that the Goddess Zhiva was depicted as wielding a bow in her right hand. (27) Together, these symbols of the golden apple and the bow appear to match the fairy tale warrior maiden Maria Morevna. While the Polish chronicler Dlugosz’s references to “Dziewanna” (28) (Pronounced “Jee-vah-nah”) as a Polish “Diana” are confusing, they are also easy to reconcile with this view of Zhiva as a warrior maiden. In his book “The Golden Bough” James Frazer indicates that “Dziewanna” was the counterpart of Marzanna in Poland. He seems to equate her with the gaik or green branch which is brought back to the village after Marzanna is tossed into a bog at the turn of spring. (29) It’s worth noting that the name Zhiva has a coincidental similarity to the Slavic word meaning “maiden” or “virgin.” For instance, “Dziewanna” can be derived just as easily from the Polish word for maiden, “dziewica.” (Jee-veet-sa) Recall that one name for Maria Morevna in Russian tales was “Tsar Maiden” (Tsar Devitsya.) (10)(13)

 The branch or tree representing spring or renewal finds strong parallels in Russia, where it is sometimes equated with “Morynka” but also sometimes associated with the Rusalki or female water spirits who were believed to leave the water in spring to bring fertility to the land. (1)(30) This appears consistent with the general mythology of Maria Morevna, who was a daughter of the sea. Rusalki were also often bird maidens, and while they were typically considered nymphs or drowned spirits, they may have once enjoyed considerable veneration. In one narrative, the Rusalki mention that their “elder” is calling them back to the waters at the end of Rusalka week. (30)

Ambiguity is the rule rather than the exception in folklore. It must have been somewhat similar for “primitive” paganism, even when it was enshrined in the religious life of mainstream society. Given their tribal state, it is unlikely that the Slavs ever had anything resembling an orthodoxy. Rather, as a collection of tribes with shared history, they would have inherited a package of shared religious concepts and mythological narratives. As people sharing a common language, newer ideas could also spread easily among them. As far as the many pagan “Maria’s” and “Mary’s” go, we also have centuries of Christianity to confuse things.

“Mara” probably was a term dating back to Proto-Balto-Slavic times, often associated with a frightening female spirit and/or Earth Goddess. The term “Morevna” or “Sea-Daughter” may have caused some similar confusion. Finally, the terms “Deva”, “Dziewica”, and “Devitsya” which mean “virgin” or “maiden” may have been associated with a divine “Maiden Tsar” or “Zhiva” the Goddess of life and of spring. When this term became applied to the Virgin Mary (Russian: Deva Maria) additional confusion may have ensued. Coincidentally, the Slavic word for virgin or maiden, “Deva” is also very close to the word for deity in many Indo-European languages. The result seems to be that the chthonic earth Goddess Mokosha, the Goddess of the golden apples, the daughter of the sea, and the Goddess of the dawn and/or daughter of the sun have all become entangled with the name “Maria.” I’ve tried my best to disentangle them, and to present the available information that can be recovered from this confusing mess, but this information obviously is subject to interpretation. It seems an open question whether “dawn” and “spring” should be combined into one Goddess, but it is noteworthy that a similar correspondence has been proposed for the Anglo-Saxon Goddess Eostre and Vedic Ushas. (24) If that’s the case, then I will say that Slavic folklore largely corroborates this link.  I’m not sure that there’s even a right or wrong answer to this question of shared identity. I hope that I’ve saved someone the trouble of looking through dozens of sources. In my next post, I will try to go with something a little bit less difficult.

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