How do You Solve a Problem Like “Maria?” (Part 1)

I have mentioned a division between eastern and western Poland when it comes to folk tradition. This division in many ways mirrors the distribution of folklore across mainland Europe; In general, folk tradition appears to become more archaic as you move from west to east, excluding places like Ireland and Scotland. One tradition that survived well in the northeast is the drowning of Marzanna.

The first mention of Marzanna comes from Jan Dlugosz, in the 15th century. “In some Polish villages, on the 4th Sunday of Lent, the people place an effigy of Marzanna on long poles and throw it into the nearest bog.” In the 16th century, another source reads “There was a custom among us in villages that on the fourth Sunday during Lent, they drowned an effigy that was made of straw or hemp and dressed in the clothes of a person. This effigy they called Marzanna. The whole village took it to the nearest body of water, removed the clothes, and threw it in singing sadly “Death is hanging around, looking for trouble.” After the ritual drowning, sometimes Polish tradition also involved some girls who retrieved a gaik, a long green branch or small tree decorated with ribbons, feathers, and colored egg shells. They would parade around singing “We have taken death from the village, and brought the green branch to the village.”(1) The basic meaning of this ritual is clear. It represents an attempt to expel the forces of death and darkness in order to welcome spring. It’s likely that spring was actually the start of the New Year among the pagan Slavs, much as it was in the civil calendar of Russia up until 1348. (2) The disposal of Marzanna can therefore be seen as a “changing over” of the old year. While the Polish tradition is one of the better known, there are close analogues in many other Slavic countries. In eastern Bulgaria, on the week following Easter, girls gathered to construct an effigy known as Mara-Lishanka. The girls would dance with the effigy and even speak to it before dismantling it and dipping its slippers in the water.(3)

Even in Lithuania, there is an analogous practice involving an effigy called Morė. This seems to imply that the practice actually predates the expansion of the Slavs, and can be traced all the way back to the Bronze Age Proto-Balto-Slavic religion. Yet as ancient as Marena may be, we must also take into account the recent influence of the Christian name “Maria” which appears to have attached itself to many pagan figures, and has caused some confusion in Slavic folklore.(4)

I personally have found many instances in which the name “Maria” has taken on some interestingly pagan traits. In my second post, I wrote about Perun’s connection with the thundering Saint, Saint Elijah in Slavic folkore. Among the South Slavs, we see a similarly veiled pagan deity in the form of St. Elijah’s sister, “Fiery Mary” (Ogjena Marija). Fiery Mary is honored in the summer, along with her brother.(3) Yet as summer fades and gives way to fall, Elijah’s fiery sister is replaced with Blaga Marija or “gentle Mary.” In one narrative, there is even an “icy Mary” who unleashes her wrath upon the earth.(5) As we can see, “Mary” is sometimes a personification of a seasonal Goddess. This cyclic seasonal identity is consistent with the Marzanna rituals in Poland, in which the effigy of the “old” year is expelled to make room for the new.

In the Slovenian tales surrounding the magical hero Kresnik, a beautiful young maiden is rescued. Sources differ on her name. She may be called Vesina (spring), Zora (Dawn) or Marjetica (Daisy.) Her mother is “Mara”, the snake queen. (6) Based on my previous post, the snake queen would likely correspond to Mokosha, yet it is noteworthy that she is called “Mara.” This is surprising, because a number of sources assume that Mokosha and Mara are separate Goddesses. In folklore however, that is far from clear. Thus, in Poland and Ukraine, the Boginka, Bohynia, or Diva Baba strongly resembles Mokosha; She lives in a cavern or swamp, steals children, has crooked legs and long breasts that she slings over her shoulder. This should all sound familiar to one who has read my previous post on Mokosha. Yet in northwestern Poland, one name for this being was “Mara.”(7) There is also the Latvian Earth Goddess “Mara”(8) although the origins of her name are debated. Some believe the name is due to Christian influence, whereas others believe it may be ancient. However, the role of the Earth Goddess fits fairly well with Mokosha. It is tempting to suggest that “Mara” may be Mokosha’s Proto-Balto-Slavic name.

Similarly, in his 15th century chronicle, the Polish cleric Jan Dlugosz likened Marzanna to Ceres, the Roman Goddess of agriculture.(9) So despite the often parroted claim that Mokosha was moist mother earth while Marena was simply a Goddess of winter, the two are extremely difficult to disentangle. A similar term can also denote a frightening female nocturnal spirit in some European languages, for example, the “mare” in English “nightmare” or Icelandic “Mara.” In Russia and Karelia, a distaff was hung over a child’s cradle in order to prevent the house spirit from making the baby cry at night. The Karelian “Mara” and Russian “Kikimora” belong to the spinning house spirits who are also associated with the world of the dead.(10) The “Mara” of Karelia is therefore almost identical to the north Russian spirit known as the “Mokusha”, on which much of our reconstruction of the Goddess Mokosha is based. After reviewing the folklore, I’m forced to conclude that “Mara” was at least sometimes another name for Mokosha.

The effigy of Marena, often associated with spring, sometimes makes in appearance during the summer solstice celebrations of Ivan Kupala in Russia. (11) This seems like a very strange time for a winter Goddess to be celebrated. During this celebration, an effigy of “Ivan Kupala” is created along with a tree branch decorated with flowers and ribbons, which is called Marena, Morana, or Morynka.(11) In this case, the “Marena” is indistinguishable from the Polish gaik, the branch representing spring, which the Poles brought back to the village after they drowned Marzanna.(1) It is noteworthy that the rites of Ivan Kupala also give us a hint of an incestuous union between brother and sister. Maria is said to pursue her brother Ivan (supposedly St. John.) The connection to John the Baptist was rationalized because people would bathe on this night, believing that the waters were imbued with magical powers. Kupala night ballads talk about how a brother and sister met one another and married without recognizing one another. As punishment, they were transformed into the flower “Ivan-da-Maria.” (12)  

This is one of many Slavic narratives that hint at such an incestuous union between brother and sister. The “brother” in these incestuous unions of Slavic folklore seems to be the sun. He is associated with the summer solstice rites of Ivan Kupala. Also, in Romanian folklore, there is a story about the sun lusting after his sister the moon and pursuing her across the sky. (13) The Romanians are not Slavs in a linguistic sense, but their folklore betrays a lot of Slavic influence. As far as we know, the Slavs did not have a moon Goddess. However, when we look at the analogous tales among the South Slavs, we see a similar narrative in which the moon has been replaced with the morning star Venus. For example, in Bulgaria:

“Enjovden (St. John’s Day, June 24) marked the summer solstice, with the sun reaching the farthest point on its journey. As the sun forgot which way to go, his sister, the Morning Star, pointed the right way. Before he started on the return journey, the sun took a bath. People were therefore urged to bathe on this particular day.”- Bulgarian Tradition (14)

This seems extremely confusing if we interpret Marena as a winter, or even a seasonal Goddess. The conventional wisdom, according to the reconstruction by Katičić and Belaj, is that Marena is the sister of the vegetation God Jarilo, with whom she has an incestuous divine marriage in spring or summer. (15) Yet if these are just seasonal vegetation deities, then why do we see all of these hints of a celestial character? Is the “Marena” of Kupala night actually the morning star? This appears to be one interpretation of her among the South Slavs at least. The Slovenian myth of Kresnik also hints at this; His sister/wife is sometimes Vesina (spring) and sometimes Zora (Dawn.) As the bringer of dawn, she may have been associated with renewal. We will have to talk a bit about the reconstruction by Katičić and Belaj. They seem to be spot-on with their theory of a divine “brother/sister” marriage each year. Slavic folklore is full of hints at that. Yet some of their ideas, particularly their attempts at constructing a broader family tree for the Slavic deities, are pretty speculative. The most I would agree with them on is that Mokosha had a daughter, but Perun’s role is far from certain. Katičić and Belaj make the thunder God Perun the father of Marena and her brother Jarilo.  Yet as we have seen from the South Slavs, the thundering saint Elijah is actually said to be the brother of Maria. Not her father. (5)

The wife of the Slovenian hero Kresnik also turns out to be his sister. Interestingly, she is sometimes called “Vesina” (spring) or “Zora” (Dawn) and sometimes Marjetica. In some stories, Kresnik actually cheats on his wife with another figure who is the snake queen or her daughter (6) perhaps indicating the duality of the seasonal Goddess. It is also noteworthy that Marjetica’s mother is called “Mara.” This probably explains some of the confusion in folk tradition regarding Marena. There was evidently an underworld Goddess associated with the name “Mara” (Mokosha) but she also had a closely related daughter, Marena. Or, as we shall see, perhaps two or three daughters. The “-ica” ending of Marjetica is a diminutive, and may have originally indicated “Little Mara.” Similarly, the Russian variant Morynka may be read as “Little Mora.” In cases where the fairy tale figure Baba Yaga has a named daughter, she is sometimes called by the diminutive “Marinushka” although in other stories she may just be “Marfa.” (16)

An astrological reconstruction of the myth might look something like this; The morning star is pursued by the sun. She appears in the sky just before sunrise (Venus reflecting sunlight when the sun is below the horizon), then “disappears” during the day. By summer solstice however, he reaches her and the two unite on the summer solstice. Around this time, she becomes “fiery” Mary, infused with the passion of the solar marriage. From June onwards however, she gradually cools to him. It is noteworthy that some sources speak of three Zoryas, or three dawns; One for the morning, one for the evening, and one for midnight.(17) Similarly, Muma Paduri, the Romanian equivalent of Baba Yaga, is said to have three daughters named Zorila (Dawn), Murgila (Dusk), and Miazanoapte (Midnight.) (18) As mentioned, the Romanians are not Slavs, yet it’s noteworthy that the name “Zorila” is clearly a loan from a Slavic language. In Romanian folklore, Muma Paduri is believed to steal sleep from children in order to give it to her own progeny. (18) Similarly, one Russian charm requires the speaker to take a child to the bathhouse and “steam” the polunoshnik or “Midnight Demon” then implore “Morning Star Mariia” and “Evening Star Marem’iana” to give sleep to their servant and take away sleeplessness. (19) As we can see, the personified dawns or morning/evening stars were closely associated with the name “Maria” or some variant thereof. This complicates our search for Marena.

 In the Romanian fairy tale Zana Zorilor (the dawn fairy) the hero encounters three donors on his way to the fairy of the dawn; Holy Wednesday, Holy Thursday, and Holy Friday. Holy Wednesday’s domain is so cold it freezes his breath. Holy Thursday’s domain is so hot the shoes of his horse melt. Holy Friday’s domain is moderate and beautiful “like the climate in Spring.” Yet Friday herself is old, and has the hero steal the water of youth from her neighbor Zana Zorilor. (20) This narrative has many hallmarks of a complex seasonal myth involving the seasons and the dawn, but the details may not be entirely retrievable. Similarly, the Bulgarians believed that people who neglected seasonal rituals could be punished by three Goddesses called the “Treska” who rose from the sea. The fiery one inflicted fever, the cold one icy cold, and the third brought deafness. (21) There is an interesting correlation between the seasonal Goddesses and the Zoryas here. Perhaps they are the same, or perhaps it is just a parallelism between yearly phases and daily phases. Much like the Saint Fiery Mary, honored in Summer in the Balkans, many Slavs also believed in a “hot” or “fiery” female personification of the midday. She was known in Russia as the Poludnitsa. She was believed to appear in the fields at noon to ask riddles, and strike those who failed to answer with illness. She was especially associated with sunstroke.(22) Similarly, the hag Baba Yaga is referred to in one Russian charm as “Mother Midnight” and implored not to keep the speaker’s child awake at night. (16) Some Slovenian sources also dub Mara the snake queen “the Queen of Night.” (6)

One other Romanian tale of interest is “The Flower Queen.” In this story, the hero rescues his bride from dragons, as well as their Baba Yaga-like mother. The hero strikes a deal with the girl’s mother, the queen of flowers, allowing her to stay with him the year round except in winter. Much like a reverse-Persephone myth, she will return to her mother in winter. (23)

This is fairly close to the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk (24) which I have brought up a number of times, and probably will bring up again. In this old epic song, the hero weds a shape shifting swan maiden named “Marya the White Swan.” The two swear an oath to be temporarily buried together as soon as one of them dies. So when Marya dies, Mikhailo goes into the earth with her. There the story splits into two versions; in one of them a female dragon of the underworld comes to feast on them. Mikhailo thrashes her with blacksmith tongs and iron rods, an episode very much like the death of Baba Yaga is in some stories. He forces her to retrieve the water of life, and even stomps one of her baby dragons to death so that she has an incentive to bring the true life-bringing water for her own child (Mikhailo doesn’t mess around!) She brings it, and Marya is resurrected. The two emerge from the ground after being underground for three months, which just happens to be about the duration of winter. She later betrays him, however, clearly showing her ambiguity as a character.

 This dragon mother is probably Mokosha, aka the “snake queen” Baba Yaga, Goddess of the underworld. Possibly also the “midnight demon” who ruled over the darkest part of the day, as well as the darkest part of the year. Her daughter Marya spends the winter with her, but is then “rescued” by Mikhailo, thus continuing the seasonal cycle. In another version however, Marya’s dead body actually morphs into the dragon of the underworld. Mikhailo must cut her apart, remove the snakes from her joints, and sprinkle her with the water of life. After that, they live happily ever after. Clearly, there was some confusion about how separate Marena and Mokosha truly were. In one version, Mokosha appears to be Marena’s mother, accepting her Swan Maiden daughter back into the underworld for the winter. In another version, the two are one and the same.

Treacherous wives who are infested with serpents are widespread in the folklore of Eastern Europe, so the concept is very old. However, this version seems like the most archaic to me. In one Serbian example, the ballad of the stepsisters, we see juxtaposition between the hero’s wife and his sister. His wife is evil and her very bones become snake-infested. She murders her own daughter to blame it on the hero’s innocent sister. Later the villainess dies, magically resurrecting her own daughter. (25) In this narrative as well, there are hints of a cyclic seasonal myth. Most notably, the distinction between evil wife and good sister grows hazy, when we remember the evidence for an incestuous marriage between Marena and her brother. Yet when the good sister is killed, her blood gives rise to flowers. The evil wife’s blood produces thorns and nettles. Can they be one and the same?

In quite a few fairy tales, Baba Yaga or a witch very similar to her secretly switches her daughter for the hero’s intended bride. For example, in “The White Duck” the witch transforms the female protagonist into a duck and substitutes her own daughter in disguise. (26) (There will be an entire discussion at a later date about bird-maidens. Marya the swan-maiden is far from the only one. )

In the story of Danila Govorila (26), a witch even donates a ring to the male protagonist, telling him he must marry whomever it fits. It fits his sister, whom he pursues until she escapes by fleeing underground. There beneath the earth she encounters the hut of Baba Yaga (Mokosha?) and befriends the witch’s daughter. The two young women return, and the brother finds that the ring also fits Baba Yaga’s daughter. What a coincidence! These two sister-brides are apparently identical in appearance (like the morning star and evening star?) but of very different temperaments. In the Russian story of “the Witch and the Sun’s Sister”, it is the hero’s sister who is evil and monstrous, with iron teeth much like Baba Yaga, whereas the “Sun’s Sister” plays the role of the kind and helpful female donor.

Going way back to comparative Indo-European mythology, this reminds me a bit of the Hindu Vedas, where the dawn Goddess Ushas is sister to Ratri, the personification of night. Perhaps we might tentatively propose two daughters for Mokosha then; one associated with renewal and one with darkness. The ways in which this formula came to be applied to natural cycles appear to be numerous. In at least some cases, they may have corresponded to Midnight (Mokosha) Dawn (Zorya) and evening (Marena)- but sometimes Mokosha was also a “Mara.” Marena was perhaps, therefore, a daughter who was nearly indistinguishable from her mother, whereas the heavenly dawn or morning star was seen as being closer in character to her brother the sun. A better term for Marena may be the Russian variant “Morynka” which can simply be referred to as “Little Mora.” Alternatively, another reconstruction that fits well involves two sets of daughters: One set for the daily cycle, and another for the yearly cycle. If so, the two have been very thoroughly blurred by folklore.

 In fact, the role of Mokosha in the Kievan pantheon as the sole female deity may imply total assimilation of all natural cycles on her part, at least in the state-sponsored cult of Prince Vladimir’s capitol of Kiev. If so, I personally think Slavic mythology is poorer for it. The Kievan pantheon had Mokosha surrounded by six male divinities. The bewildering and complex female personalities of Slavic folk tradition are much richer than that. Despite what the idols of Kiev portray, the strongly male-dominated tendency that is often attributed to Slavic paganism did not necessarily take hold in the countryside. Far from the urban centers of Kievan Rus (such as they were) Mokosha was likely accompanied by a host of seasonal and celestial daughters.  In Kiev, these many personalities appear to have all been collapsed into one female figure, not unlike a matryoshka doll. Elsewhere, it seems that we have at least a dyad or duo of Goddesses that are clearly distinguished. (4)

It is very interesting that Marya takes the form of a swan maiden at the beginning of the bylina of Mikhailo Potyk, only to become infested with serpents later on. This juxtaposition of bird and snake maiden is not new. In fact, we can trace it back to Scythian times. In my post regarding Mokosha, I discussed the snake-limbed or anguipede Goddess, and agreed with Yulia Usinova that the half-serpent woman mentioned by Herodotus was her closely related daughter, and that she was a hora (seasonal Goddess) born from her mother earth. To make matters even more intriguing, Yulia Usinova has this to say about the relationship between the anguipede Goddess and the winged Goddess or “heavenly Aphrodite” in Greco-Scythian art (27):

“The winged Goddess is most probably Argimpasa- Aphrodite Ourania, and it seems that her relation to the anguipede Goddess resembles that of the Ascalon Aphrodite Ourania and Derceto-Atargatis: affinity bordering on identity.” And she adds later. “-… Affinity bordering on identity, but never really reaching it.” In short, the winged Goddess and snake-limbed Scythian Goddess appear to have nearly the same identity. How similar this is to the dilemma surrounding the Slavic Marena! It’s time to talk once again about connections to the ancient Scytho-Sarmatians, as well as bird maidens like Marya the White Swan. Believe it or not, this subject actually does deserve a part 2.  In this next post, I want to discuss the Nart Sagas, as well as the fairy tale character known as “Maria Morevna.”

(1) Knab, Sophie H. Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore. New York: Hippocrene Books, 2017.

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

(3) MacDermott, Mercia. Bulgarian Folk Customs. Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley, 2010. 

(4) Marjanić, Suzana. 2003. The Dyadic Goddess and Duotheism in Nodilo’s The Ancient Faith of the Serbs and the Croats. Studia Mythologica Slavica 6: 181–204.

(5) Vidan, Aida. Embroidered with Gold, Strung with Pearls: The Traditional Ballads Women. Cambridge (Mass.: Milman Parry collection, 2003.

(6) Copeland, F. S. “Slovene Folklore.” Folklore, vol. 42, no. 4, 1931, pp. 405–446. JSTOR

(7) Санникова О. В., Усачёва В. В. // Славянские древности : Этнолингвистический словарь : в 5 т. / под общ. ред. Н. И. Толстого ; Институт славяноведения

(8) Paliepa, Jānis R. The Origin of the Baltic and Vedic Languages: Baltic Mythology ; Interdisiplinary Treatise. Bloomington, IN: AuthorHouse, 2011

(9) ) Znayenko, Myroslava T. The Gods of the Ancient Slavs: Tatishchev and the Beginings of Slavic Mythology. Columbus, Ohio: Slavica, 1980

(10) Frog, , Anna-Leena Siikala, and Eila Stepanova. Mythic Discourses: Studies in Uralic Traditions. Helsinki: Finnish Literature Society, 2013.

(11) Warner, Elizabeth A. The Russian Folk Theatre. , 2011.

(12) Reeder, Roberta, V I. A. Propp, and V I. A. Propp. Russian Folk Lyrics. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993.

(13) Beza, Marcu. Paganism in Roumanian Folklore. , 2003.

(14) Barber, Elizabeth W. The Dancing Goddesses: Folklore, Archaeology, and the Origins of European Dance. New York: W W Norton, 2014.

(15) HadžiMuhamedović, Safet. Waiting for Elijah: Time and Encounter in a Bosnian Landscape. , 2018.

(16) Johns, Andreas. Baba Yaga: The Ambiguous Mother and Witch of the Russian Folktale. New York: Peter Lang, 2004.

(17) ) Monaghan, Patricia. Encyclopedia of Goddesses and Heroines. Santa Barbara, Calif: Greenwood / ABC-CLIO, 2010.

(18) Costin, Claudia. Folkloric Aspects of the Romanian Imaginary and Myth. , 2018. 

(19) Ryan, W F. The Bathhouse at Midnight: An Historical Survey of Magic and Divination in Russia. University Park, Pa: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1999.

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

(21) Monaghan, Patricia. Encyclopedia of Goddesses and Heroines. Santa Barbara, Calif: Greenwood / ABC-CLIO, 2010.

(22)  Lurker, Manfred. The Routledge Dictionary of Gods and Goddesses, Devils and Demons. , 2016.

(23) Lang, Andrew. The Yellow Fairy Book. , 2018.

(24) Hapgood, Isabel F. Epic Songs of Russia. Place of publication not identified: Nabu Press, 2010.

(25) 1885-1934, Petrovitch W. M. Hero Tales and Legends of the Serbians. Place of publication not identified: Hardpress Ltd, 2013

(26) Afanasʹev, A N, Norbert Guterman, Alexandre Alexeieff, and Roman Jakobson. Russian Fairy Tales. New York: Pantheon Books, 1973.

(27) Ustinova, Yulia. The Supreme Gods of the Bosporan Kingdom: Celestial Aphrodite and the Most High God. Leiden: Brill, 1999.

Comparative Mythology, Folklore, and the Slavs

As most of my posts here will show, my interpretation of Slavic paganism rests heavily on two things; Comparative analysis of related cultures and folklore. In the age of the internet, where almost anyone can pretend to be an expert in something, I feel I should slow down and take a moment to explain my methodology.

The folklore part is easy enough to explain. Written sources of Slavic paganism are scant (although a few medieval manuscripts are useful.) For the most part, relevant written evidence comes from the Russian primary chronicle, which mentions a small pantheon of East Slavic deities, or else the sources from German Christians encountering their pagan neighbors to the east, whom they referred to as the “Wends.” That covers most of the evidence from the middle ages.

It wasn’t until the 19th century that folklorists began truly shining a light upon the oral traditions of the common people throughout Europe. By this time much had been lost. However, some places held on to much more archaic beliefs than others. As PhD in Slavic Studies Andreas Johns notes, in her book on Baba Yaga:

 “It has also been suggested that fantastic, magic, and marvelous elements in folktales increase as one moves across Europe from west to east; the western tales are more “rational.” If this observation is correct, is it a difference of national character or temperament, or differences of historical development?  Have the traditions of eastern Europe, where industrialization and urbanization occurred later maintained an “earlier” state of the folktale?” (1)

As an avid reader of folklore, I would agree that this is the case for mainland Europe and England. For the regions of the British Isles like Scotland where Celtic culture has survived, there seems to be an exception to this rule. But otherwise it works very well. The folklore of Eastern Europe appears more transparently “pagan” than that of the west. In Poland, one of the westernmost Slavic countries, there is often a delineation between the folk traditions of the west and the east. For instance, the Polish clergy were apparently very effective in stomping out the midsummer or summer solstice celebrations known as swietojanska or kupalnocka. The custom was almost completely erased in western Poland. (2)

The better preservation of folk tradition in the east does seem to be partially due to the late development of Eastern Europe. Another plausible factor is the late date of the Slavic migrations themselves. The Slavs expanded throughout Eastern Europe around the 6-8th centuries A.D., presumably bringing with them a collection of folklore and folk beliefs that had previously been fairly cohesive and isolated. We know they succeeded in spreading their language, and oral tradition likely piggybacked along with the language to some extent.  By contrast, the languages spoken in western and central Europe largely began spreading and forming during the early Roman Empire and the Germanic tribal movements. The places where the Germanic and Roman worlds would clash and eventually mix were far from isolated and stable environments, and likely were conducive to rapid cultural change. Oral narratives could have begun spreading, homogenizing and becoming less “primitive” throughout the region several centuries before Slavic oral tradition did.

Another great thing about Slavic folklore is that there are numerous Slavic countries that have developed under very different historical conditions. Folklore elements which show up in two Slavic countries that are separated by a great distance, like Bulgaria and Poland, are more likely to be ancient than folklore elements from just one country. East European folklore is therefore a powerful tool for analyzing the distant past of the pre-Christian Slavs.

Comparative mythology is going to be a bit harder to explain. The field has a long history, but for the purposes of this post I will stress the two types of relationships that various cultures I study generally have with the Slavs. The first criterion is a linguistic relationship. In a nutshell, if a culture’s language is related to the Slavic languages, then you can reasonably make the case for religious or mythological parallels. By far the closest relatives of the Slavic languages are the Baltic languages. Today these are limited to Lithuanian and Latvian. In fact, sometimes they are all grouped together as part of the “Balto-Slavic” language family. Sure enough, some parallels in mythology are evident. The Latvian storm deity Perkons is clearly related to the Slavic storm deity Perun, for instance. (3) Some Baltic pagans honored a deity known as Puskaitis who ruled over spirits in the underworld. They left offerings for him at elder trees. (3B) This recalls the Aridnyk of Hutsul folklore, a half-pagan “Devil” mentioned in previous posts. One taboo name for him among the Hutsuls was buznychyi, literally “he of the elder tree.” (4)

However, it has been estimated that the Baltic and Slavic languages split quite a long time ago. There is some debate about whether the similarities suggest a single common ancestor language, but if one did exist, it’s generally thought to have existed between 1000 B.C. and 1500 B.C. So for much of the time after that period, the Slavs were evidently living somewhere separate from the Balts. The most likely place is somewhere around modern day northern Ukraine, perhaps in the vicinity of the iron age Chernoles culture. (6) This would have placed them south of the Baltic peoples, but just north of a new set of neighbors, a group of pastoral nomads known as the Scytho-Sarmatians. We will be hearing quite a bit about them.

The Scythians dominated the steppe region for much of the iron age, although they were displaced by closely related Sarmatians. Together, the Scytho-Sarmatians constitute a northern branch of the Iranian language speakers that were once widespread throughout Eurasia. They were not Iranians in the sense that they came from the middle east necessarily, but for complex reasons, the Scytho-Sarmatians and Iranians (then called Persians) ended up speaking related languages. Evidence of their contact with the Slavs is found in certain loan-words. For example, the Russian word for “axe” is ”topor”, whereas in Persian it is “tabar.” The Slavs also evidently adopted an Iranian word for “God” or “deity.” This implies some pretty significant cultural influence. This is why the Ossetian Epics known as the Nart Sagas will play a major role in my analysis on this blog. The Ossetians are the last speakers of an Iranian language directly descended from Sarmatian.(5) Consequently, we should expect parallels between Ossetian and Slavic mythology, and indeed, the prevalence of parallels between the Nart Sagas and Slavic folk tales is a powerful argument for the archaism of Slavic folklore.

It should be noted that the Slavic, Baltic, Iranian, and even Germanic, Indian, and Celtic languages are all interrelated. All are members of the world’s largest language family.  For thousands of years these cultures were largely ignorant of the fact that their languages were related. It wasn’t until the 19th century that the British colonizers of India came in contact with Sanskrit, a very ancient language that had been painstakingly preserved since the second millennium B.C. by the learned people of India. It was only a short time before certain similarities were noticed between Sanskrit and ancient European languages like Greek and Latin. For example, in order to count to five in Sanskrit, one says “eka, dvi, tri, catur, panca.” In Latin it is “unos, duo, tri, quattor, quinque.” For modern languages the similarities tend to be somewhat obscured by time, yet even modern day Russian clearly belongs to the same family. (e.g. adeen, dva, tri, chyetirye, pyat.” )There is even a reconstructed Proto-Indo-European (PIE) language, thought to be very close to the ancestral language that gave rise to the entire family. For instance, the PIE word for “five” is something like “penkwe.” Just based on the previous three examples, it’s easy to see the logic behind this reconstruction. This language was likely spoken by a collection of cultures on the pontic Caspian steppe between about 4000 B.C.  and 2500 B.C. (6)

There are a number of characteristics associated with Indo-European mythologies. These have been noted since the 19th century, but the modern subject is largely influenced by the research of Georges Dumezil. (6) The cornerstone of his work is the idea that Indo-European society was divided into three classes or castes. These have parallels in Europe and Asia, from ancient Rome to India. Even in the Nart Sagas, we have three clans who are basically summarized as “the wealthy”, “the brave”, and “the wise.” (5)  These correspond to Dumezil’s  three functions. The third function is associated with fertility and production, the second with war, and the first with priestly or judicial activity. Numerous Indo-European mythologies feature a triad of deities that seem to correspond to these, such as the archaic triad of ancient Rome. The latter included the Gods Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus. In this context, Jupiter was king and therefore wielded legal authority, and Mars was the God of war. Quirinus is more obscure, but he clearly fits the third function. When the Romans subjugated their neighbors, the Sabines, they were renamed “Quirites” after the God Quirinus, patron of the common people. In the Swedish temple of Uppsala, the triad was Odin, Thor, and Freyr. In early Indic society, the first function appears to have been held jointly by the Gods “Mitra-Varuna”, the second by Indra, and the third by the Ashwins. (7) Even today, one might argue that these classes have cast their shadows on modern society. We have producers, seekers of glory, and we have our intelligentsia as well. Of course I’ve spoken already about other aspects of Indo-European mythology, particular in my post about Perun, but I wanted to supply some background. I hope this clears some things up for any readers.

The final connection between the Slavs and other cultures was touched upon in my post regarding the Earth-Diver myths. Some elements of Slavic folklore do appear close to Uralic and Altaic counterparts farther east. The Uralic languages are distinct from the Indo-European languages, so this is a geographical relationship rather than a linguistic one. Likewise, the Altaic nomads emerged in Eastern Europe only starting with the Huns in the 4th century A.D. This ties the Slavs to the cultures of Siberia, including some of which are considered Asiatic. The earth diver myth and the dualistic beliefs of the Slavs mentioned by the German missionary Helmold are both typical of Uralic and Siberian mythologies, but very atypical for Indo-European ones. (8)

I hope that explains much of my methodology. I approach Slavic paganism with the conviction that much of the folklore is indeed pre-Christian, and that analysis of folklore from numerous Slavic countries can allow a person to pinpoint the most ancient elements. I also view Slavic culture as a primarily Indo-European culture with some Uralic influence, particularly with respect to its “higher” or “primordial” cosmology. Within the greater Indo-European family, ancient Slavic culture had an especially close connection with the Iranian and Baltic branches. The Iranian branch is typically associated with the Persians of the Middle East, however, the Ossetian culture of the Caucasus region is much more closely related to the nomadic Iranian groups that the Slavs would have encountered. This should lay the groundwork for any comparative analysis of pre-Christian Slavic tradition.

(1) Johns, Andreas. Baba Yaga: The Ambiguous Mother and Witch of the Russian Folktale. New York: Peter Lang, 2004.

(2) Knab, Sophie H. Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore. New York: Hippocrene Books, 2017.

(3) Paliepa, Jānis R. The Origin of the Baltic and Vedic Languages: Baltic Mythology ; Interdisiplinary Treatise. Bloomington, IN: AuthorHouse, 2011

(3B) Pennick, Jones, and Nigel Pennick. A History of Pagan Europe. London: Routledge, 1995.

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

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

(6) Mallory, J P. In Search of the Indo-Europeans: Language, Archaeology, and Myth. New York, N.Y: Thames and Hudson, 2003.

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

(8)  https://www.britannica.com/topic/Slavic-religion#ref533466

Chernobog and the Earth Diver

In the beginning, there was nothing but water. Then an animal dove to the bottom of the cosmic sea, and retrieved the material of creation. From this small speck of matter, the world as we know it was born. Which creation story does this describe? Finnish? Slavic? Tungusic? Iroquois?  All are correct answers. This basic summary describes the famous “Earth-Diver” creation myth. It is found distributed from eastern Europe, all the way to Siberia and even North America. Some of these creation myths simply feature an animal, but many versions show a conflict between two primordial creation figures. Examples are provided below.

In the Americas, the Iroquois creation myth describes the fall of the sky woman from heaven, after being pushed through a hole left by an uprooted tree in the heavenly world. She lands on a turtle, and bids the animals of the water to dive below, and retrieve soil, which she uses to create the foundations of the Earth. She later gives birth to two twins; one good and one evil. These twins then participate in the creation of living things. One creates good things, whereas the other creates things that are regarded as bad. (1)

The Native Americans are believed to have migrated from Beringia, in north-eastern Siberia. Consequently, we may expect them to have a cultural relationship to indigenous cultures in the region. Recent linguistic studies have linked the Na-Dene languages of North America with the Yeniseian languages of Siberia. (2)

In the Mongolian creation myth, the heavenly God has two sons: Ulgen Tenger and Erleg Khan. Ulgen Tenger inherited the heavens, whereas Erleg Khan inherited the underworld. Ulgen sent the loon to the bottom of the sea to retrieve mud with which to make land. Upon creating land, Ulgen fell asleep. His brother saw this and tried to pull the land out from under him, but this only made the land grow. Ulgen woke up and created humans out of wet clay. Later, Erleg bribes the dog guarding the drying clay bodies of mankind, and spits on them, forever tainting mankind.(1)

Much farther west, the Komi people have a creation story which is typical of the Uralic language speakers. The Uralic languages can be found on both sides of the Ural mountains, which are typically seen as the dividing line between “European” Russia and Siberia.

The Komi creation story opens with a primordial ocean on which the duck, Chezh, is swimming.  Chezh bears within her womb the eggs of lifebirth. Sadly, four of the eggs that she lays sink to the bottom of the ocean. She rescues only two, which hatch into the twin Gods Jen and Omol. They are described as two brothers “two opposing beginnings, life and death, good and evil, the truth and the lie.” Their mother Chezh asks them to bring the rest of her eggs up from the bottom. Then she rises up to the heavens and dashes her body against the surface of the water and dies.

Jen dives down to retrieve the eggs, but his brother Omol deliberately freezes the surface of the water, hoping to trap him. Jen breaks free from the ice and summons thunder and lightning, frightening his brother. Jen then creates the sun from the egg, and causes his mother’s body to grow into land. Omol dives down and uses an egg to create frost, swamps, evil spirits, etc. (3) This presents a very negative view of Omol. Interestingly however, some stories depict Omol as a skillful creator in his own right. In his Encyclopedia of Uralic Mythologies Volume 1, Nikolai Konakov writes

“There are several discrepant opinions on his role in creation. According to some myths, at night Omol simply spoiled the things which Jen had created in the daytime… -but much more frequently, Omol Is presented as the creator equal to Jen, although he creates in accordance with his nature…- In some cases Omol is presented as a more skillful creator than Jen. So, playing the role of culture hero Jen made the first violin, but it began to make sounds only thanks to the help of Omol. In another case Jen invented the blacksmith’s work but learnt to weld iron only after he followed advice from Omol.”(3)

Finally, we come to the Hutsul myth mentioned briefly in my post on Perun. At this point, we have traveled west from the great lakes region of North America, all the way to the Slavic world in Eastern Europe. I will touch upon this story once more. In a nutshell, “God” is created by dew that falls upon the primordial ocean. He then finds a figure made out of foam, which he shapes into a companion. This is the Aridnyk, or the devil. The two call each other brothers for a time, but have a falling out. God tells the Aridnyk to go down an retrieve sand from the sea floor in God’s name. However, the Aridnyk declares that he is retrieving it in his own name, causing the sand to sift away between his fingers. Finally he declares he is retrieving it in God’s name, and is successful. However, he hides a bit of sand for himself within his mouth. God makes the sand expand, creating land. However, the Aridnyk’s sand also expands, causing him to spit it out. This creates the Aridnyk’s own land: swamps, mountains, deserts, etc.

The Aridnyk tries to kill God while he sleeps by rolling him into the sea, but the land expands beneath him. When God wakes up, he questions his brother about whether he tried to murder him. The Aridnyk lies, thus bringing deceit into the world, as well as dreams and poetry. God punishes him by imprisoning him beneath the ice, in the underworld. The Aridnyk is evil, yet creative. It is said to have created most musicals instruments as well as fire, the latter of which God stole from him.(4)

It has been noted that dualistic Earth diver myths like those previously mentioned are common throughout Eastern Europe. They are found in the Balkans, as well as Russia, Ukraine, Poland, and Lithuania. The scholar Stoyanov seems to feel that the Slavic variants of the story group closely with Uralic counterparts, like those of the Komi.  In his book “The Other God: Dualist Religions from Antiquity to the Cathar Heresy.” He discusses the possible influence of these myths on Bogomilism, a heretical sect of Christianity that arose in Bulgaria during the middle ages. Some beliefs of the Bogomils, such as the portrayal of Jesus and Satan as coeval brothers, seem to fit with this idea. A variant of the earth diver myth also shows up in Bogumil literature. The Apocryphal legend of the Tiberian Sea depicts the co-creator “Satanail” as a water bird who dives down on orders from God. (5)

Based on all of this, we can surmise that the Earth-Diver creation stories found in Slavic countries in recent times are indeed related to counterparts found much farther east. This would seem to preclude them from being purely the product of Christian influence. Yet how exactly this came to be has been debated. Some have tried to argue that the Avars and Bulgars were responsible for bringing “Altaic” mythological elements into eastern Europe. From there, it may have theoretically spread from the Balkans via Bogomilism. Yet this ignores the strong relationship between the Slavic and Uralic myths, the latter of which were certainly not the product of Christian heretics. For that matter, Lithuania was not officially Christianized until 1387, long after Bogomilism had withered away. It is noteworthy that the Hutsul myth shows some traits found only (as far as I know) in Uralic sources, such as the evil god’s creation of a musical instrument, one brother attempting to trap another under the ice, and his role in teaching the creator something related to fire (or blacksmithing.) This would imply a common origin for Slavic and Uralic earth-diver myths originating from somewhere north or northeast of the Balkans. As for the Lithuanian version, this may imply an ancient interaction between the Uralic and early Balto-Slavic language speakers. In his book on religious dualism, Stoyanov agrees that Slavic earth diver myths group close to their Uralic counterparts such as those of the Komi and Samoyeds, and that they may predate Christianity. (5) However, he does note that the idea of pre-Christian dualism in the Slavic religion is a controversial topic. In my view, it need not be.

In medieval sources, the clearest reference to moral dualism is found in the “Black God”, Chernobog. You may know his name from the devil in Disney’s Fantasia. In his Chronicon Slavorum, the 12th century Christian chronicler Helmold of Bosau had this to say about him:

The Slavs, they say, have one peculiar custom: during feasts, they pass a goblet amongst them in circle, for purpose not to praise, but rather to curse in the names of gods, good and evil, for every good thing praising a good god, and for every bad thing cursing an evil god. This god of woe in their language is called Diabolous (*in Latin) or Zherneboh, meaning black god.

Helmold also writes that the Slavs believed in a single heavenly creator who is distant or inaccessible to worshippers. He is said to concern himself only with “heavenly affairs” and delegates most earthly business to his children. While some have claimed that Helmold’s description is influenced by Christianity, his description of a distant creator casts some doubt on this interpretation. On the other hand, it is fairly typical of Uralic mythologies. According to Komi mythology, after the creator Jen won in the struggle for cosmic supremacy, he went to the sky and has never intervened in earthly life; in fact he became the so called “idle God.”According to some Permyaks, Jen can break the principle of non-intervention in earthly life (3) but this seems to be the exception rather than the rule.

Also typical of some Uralic mythologies is the concept of using the colors black and white to denote cosmological dualism, or the struggle between two creators. In Mari mythology, for example, the supreme creator God is known as “Os Kugou Jumou” or “Great White God.” Mari mythology has clear parallels to Komi mythology, although unlike the Komi Jen, he has two brothers, one who rules over the underworld, and another who is the spirit of evil.

All of these parallels to Uralic mythology raise the question about their true origins. Previously, many have assumed that dualism in the Slavic religion must have a north Iranian origin. This is not unlikely, after all, the Iranian religion of Zoroaster featured a struggle between the good Ahura Mazda and the evil Ahriman. Furthermore, Iranic language speakers once populated the steppes of Ukraine and Russia, up until the arrival of the Huns. These were the Scythians and Sarmatians. The word for “God” in all Slavic languages (Bog) is even an Iranian loan-word, cognate to Persian “Bhaga.” The same word shows up in Tungusic mythology, in Siberia,  where the good creator God is called “Buga.” However, the presence of dualism as far abroad as the Americas, casts some doubt on the notion of Iranic culture as the sole source of these dualistic themes. Additionally, it should be questioned how Iranic religion acquired these dualist notions that are so obviously distinct from anything found in the Indian Vedas. The Indo-Iranian languages were extremely similar at the time that Zoroaster composed the Avesta, and yet marked religious differences prevailed at that time between Indian and Iranian culture. It’s not implausible that the proto-Iranic culture was itself influenced by Uralic, Siberian, or Central Asian cosmologies during the eastward migration of the Indo-Iranians across the steppe. Some have speculated that the process of Satemization (a trait shared by Balto-Slavic and Indo-Iranian languages) was due to Uralic influence. (6)

All in all, the evidence seems to suggest that the pre-Christian Slavic religion included a dualistic cosmology similar to those found farther north and farther east. In my own humble opinion, the struggle between good and evil was present in the mythology of Siberia as far back as 20,000 years ago, when the common ancestors of Siberians, northeast Europeans, and Native Americans were still present in Siberia. In fact, the most recent genetic evidence shows that the so-called “Ancient North Eurasian” DNA found in the remains from the Siberian Mal’ta culture later show up from northern Europe to the Americas. The distribution of this DNA closely matches the distribution of the earth-diver myth. (7) Furthermore, if Zoroastrianism can be shown to be influenced by North-Eurasian cosmologies, the implications could be earth-shaking. It may be that the struggle between the creator and his evil counterpart could ultimately originate from Siberia. Even Christianity, which was influenced by Zoroastrianism, may be an inheritor of this northern wisdom.

(1) Leeming, David A, and David A. Leeming. Creation Myths of the World: An Encyclopedia. Santa Barbara, Calif: ABC-CLIO, 2010.

(2) http://www.bigorrin.org/archive118.htm

(3) Komi Mythology: Encyclopaedia of Uralic Mythologies 1 by N.D. Konakov

(4) Kotsiubynskyi, Mykhailo. and Rubchak, Bohdan.  Shadows of forgotten ancestors / Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky ; translated by Marco Carynnyk ; with notes an an essay on Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky by Bohdan Rubchak

(5) STOYANOV, YURI. The Other God: Dualist Religions from Antiquity to the Cathar Heresy. Yale University Press, 2000. 

(6) https://indo-european.eu/2018/03/proto-uralic-as-a-corded-ware-substrate-of-indo-iranian-in-the-volga-ural-region-and-indo-iranian-loanwards-in-finno-ugric/

(7) http://anthropogenesis.kinshipstudies.org/blog/2013/10/31/genes-and-myths-ancient-malta-dna-and-the-earth-diver-mythological-motif/

Perun and His Foe

Perun and His Foe

Many western scholars are of the opinion that material on Slavic paganism is simply lacking. This is the view of Elizabeth Warner, author of “Russian Myths.” In her work, she denies that there is any non-Christian influence on the view of St. Elijah in Russia. Elizabeth Warner is not unaccomplished or unqualified, yet she falls prey to the common mistake of equating mythology with paganism. Because Greek and Norse mythology have exercised such an influence on our imaginations, it can be tempting to assume that pre-Christian beliefs cannot be preserved or reconstructed without similar mythological sources.

Yet the Orthodox Christian tradition of equating saints with certain deities is well researched and well established. Among the Ossetians of the North Caucasus, for example, pagan deities are still worshipped under the thinly veiled names of saints. The God of the sea in their native tradition is called “Donbettyr” (Literally “Water Peter”) In the Nart Sagas, he is depicted as a king residing beneath the waves of the Black Sea. He has little in common with the actual St. Peter, and the “Don” part of his name is incredibly archaic, cognate to river names across Europe such as the Don, Danube, and Dniester. Just as in Eastern Europe, St. Elijah became a kind of thunder God, known as “Uacilla.” In Finland, St. Elijah has become associated with the storm deity Ukko. In Bulgaria as well, people would traditionally sacrifice a cock, bull, or ram to him in mid July, which was referred to as “thunder week.” The saint was imagined as riding a heavenly chariot pulled by fiery winged horses across the sky and shooting lightning bolts at his enemies.

Much of what we believe we know of Perun has been extrapolated from his Baltic counterparts, Perkunas and Perkons. This is understandable, given the clear relationship between them, and has yielded some insight. This forms much of the basis for the reconstruction of the central Slavic myth by Ivanov and Toporov. According to them, Perun was believed to pursue the underworld deity Veles during thunderstorms, driving him back below the roots of the world tree. Reconstruction of Perun’s battle against the dragon, Veles, often draws criticism from those who are unfamiliar with Indo-European comparative mythology. Yet even if we had no material on Slavic paganism, we could still probably guess that such a myth existed. The reason being that every Indo-European culture appears to have had one.

The Hittites wrote about the serpent Illuyanka’s battle with the storm deity Tarhun. In the Vedas, we have Indra and Vritra. Indra defeats the dragon Vritra with his thunderbolt and releases the waters. Among the Greeks, there was Zeus and Typhon, as well as the battle between their sons (Hercules and Ladon or the Hydra.) In one retelling of Hercules battle against the many-headed dragon Ladon, Hercules even strikes a rock, causing a spring of water to shoot up so that he can quench his thirst. Just as in the Vedas, the slaying of a dragon (in this case by the thunder God’s son)  is accompanied by the release of water. Among the Norse, we had Thor and the sea serpent Jormungandr. The Proto-Indo-European drakenkampf myth (1)(2) is one of the best reconstructed proto-myths on the face of the Earth. Nobody well-acquainted with it could possibly fail to notice its presence in Slavic folklore, if in fact they bothered to look for it.

As mentioned, much of Perun’s mythology is reconstructed using Baltic mythology as a comparison. However, Slavic mythology clearly had many differences from Baltic mythology, and Perun appears to have been no exception. As mentioned earlier, there are a number of storm deities who were identified with St. Elijah. One of particular interest is native to the northern Caucasus region. This deity is the Ossetian Uacilla. In the Ossetian pantheon, and to some extent that of other neighboring cultures like the Abkhazians, we have our clearest glimpses at what Sarmatian mythology must have looked like. It is the influence from that same mythology that likely caused the Slavic religion to diverge so clearly from that of the Lithuanians and Latvians to their north..

According to one story, Uacilla chained to the moon a monster called Artaus. Artaus was created by God for good, yet he disobeyed his creator and taught people evil. One day Artaus will escape and bring about the end of the world. (3A) The parallels to other Indo-European mythologies are obvious.

Among the Slavic Hutsuls, who reside in the Carpathians, a very similar belief exists regarding St. Elija and the Aridnyk. (3B) According to their folklore, the Aridnyk was God’s brother, and co-creator of the world. God ordered him to dive down to the bottom of the sea and retrieve sand to create the world, but he disobeyed and took some sand for himself, which he hid in his mouth. From this, the Aridnyk created his own land (swamps, mountains, hills, etc.) Later, St. Elijah did battle against the Aridnyk with his lightning bolts, and wrought such destruction that even God fell to his knees. It is said the God banished the Aridnyk beneath the ice. This is why the Aridnyk now oversees the production of hailstones.

It is said that one day the Aridnyk will break free from his chains and do battle with St. Elijah one final time, at which point the world will end. These stories fall neatly into the “drakenkampf” or dragon slaying classification of Indo-European comparative mythology. We see the dragon-struggle or drakonkampf in Norse mythology as well, and it appears related to the Ragnorak or doomsday myth. According to Norse mythology the serpent Jormungandr and the wolf Fenrir will break free and bring about the end of the world. Thor battles the mighty serpent, Jormungandr, and both die at the end of the world. Likewise in Persian myth, the hero Thraetona (who is largely accepted to be related to the Vedic storm gods Trita and Indra.) battles the dragon Azi Dahaka. Like most Slavic dragons, the Azi Dahaka has many heads. In the Persian tale, Thraetona imprisons Azi Dahaka beneath Mt. Damavand. When the dragon escapes, at the end of the world, a third of the world’s people will perish before it can be slain. (2)

According to Ukrainian lore, there is a monster or serpent that is chained up against a cliff. One reason given for the easter egg tradition (the painting of Pysanky, as they call them) is that such decorated eggs are thought to tighten the chains of the serpent. If the custom of making Pysanky ever dies, then the serpent will break free and the world will end. (4)

Stanislaw Vincenz, in his book “On the High Uplands: Sagas, Songs, Tales, and Legends of the Carpathians” recounts a striking prophecy regarding the end of the world: (5)

“Let them despair, let them lament that the beauty of the ancient days is scattering into dust, that the world is perishing…- The waters will not flow from the Rainbow Sea, the decorated Easter eggs will not be carried away to the holy Rachmans, our guardians…- until, released from his chain, the monster, Archi-Judas himself, the spirit of slavery, patron of oppression, the god of the exploiters, breaks loose. He will change human beings into humble animals, he will order them to drink and eat less than enough, and to live without a morrow and without a yesterday…- Then from Kiedrowaty the trumpet will sound out the upland watchword, summoning the people. The youthful Dobosz will arise and will laugh. The Thunder Cloud will fly to him, his snowy mane gleaming; he will neigh with a voice of thunder, he will drum his hoofs on the rock. And at that sign, all the thunder horses will be set free by the brave old Elias (Elijah) the prophet thick-beard, patron saint of youth. The cliffs will open, the treasures will begin to burn in the womb of the mountains, and then the great young world will arise.”

The same book contains a number of interesting references to the “thunder emperor.” Another emphasizes his conflict with a dragon. In one passage, a magician chants:

 “Arrogantly, contemptuously, and with his glittering scepter the emperor points to the households and fields. And at once the black iron troops begin to strike with thunders…- Seize, emperor-fiend, thy fiery sword and escape!…- Armed with the sacred word, I give thee road into the chasm, into the unknown; to the boundless ices, to the bottomless seas. There, go seek glory for thyself; fight the dragons, conquer the dragon palaces.” (5)

While the first passage recalls the Nart Sagas with its talk of a chained Archi-Judas, the second passage calls to mind Indra from the Vedas. Indra slew the dragon Vritra with his thunderbolt, and shattered Vritra’s fortresses. He also led a host of thundering warriors known as the Maruts. (2)

In many Indo-European mythologies, the dragon or serpent is a creature of the underworld. In Norse mythology, the dragon Nidhoggr resides at the roots of the world tree, gnawing steadily and hastening the end of times. In Lithuanian mythology, it was commonly believed that souls who failed to ascend to the peak of the cosmic mountain slipped and fell into the underworld, where a dragon would rip at them for all time. In one Russian Epic song, The Bylina about Marya the White Swan, the hero spends three months in the coffin of his dead love. While he waits, a dragon of the underworld rises up to gnaw on her corpse, and is delighted to find living meat within.  In Bulgaria, one three-headed dragon-like creature is referred to as an ala or hala. Like the Aridnyk of Hutsul folklore, it is associated with the production of hail (hence the name.) On St. Elijah’s day, it is believed that St. Elijah drives his chariot across the sky, shooting lightning bolts from his bow at a hala. (6)

One unmistakable tale about Perun can be found in the Russian fairy tale “Ivan the Cow’s Son.” In this story, the hero is explicitly referred to as the “Burya Bogatyr” which roughly translates to the “Storm Knight.” Sure enough, he slays three dragons that emerge from the watery realm below. (7) Another definitively pagan element, the daughter of the sea, also makes an appearance in that fairy tale. We’ll talk more about her later.

In a number of stories, like “The Three Brothers and the Golden Apple” the slaying of a dragon causes the release of the waters, just as the killing of Vritra in the Vedas does. In quite a few dragon-slaying stories, we are told that the hero must wake up the dragon before striking, and that he must strike it only once in order to kill it, because “a true hero only strikes once!” This same basic formula shows up in the Nart Sagas as well, particularly with the hero Batraz, who is generally accepted to be based on a Ossetian storm God. The sword of Batraz produces lightning, and he himself is said to be coated in steel, much like the “black iron troops” that serve the Hutsul thunder emperor. In one such story, Batraz rescues the sun’s daughter. Before doing so, he faces a many headed giant and declares that he will not strike it twice, because the men of his clan kill with one blow, “just like Uacilla (St.Elijah) the lord of thunder.” (8) The rescue of the sun’s daughter has parallels with Vedic mythology, in which the thunderer Indra releases Ushas, goddess of dawn from within a mountain. He also retrieves cows stolen by the Panis. In the Russian fairy tale of “The Crystal Mountain” the hero herds cattle and protects them against gluttonous dragons. Later, he takes a seed hidden within the slain dragon and uses it to unlock the crystal mountain, freeing the princess. (7) This motif of “unlocking the mountain” shows up frequently in Slavic folkore. Refer also to the Carpathian legend regarding the final battle against the Arch-Judas. Likewise in Slovenian folklore, the lighting wielding hero Kresnik slays the queen of serpents and unlocks his cattle from within a mountain. He liberates the captive Vesina (the female personification of Spring) from his opponent Trdoglav. (9) Thus we can see that the thunderer of PIE mythology released a Goddess associated with renewal in a number of tales.

Far from being idle speculation, Ivanov and Toporov’s reconstruction of Perun’s battle against a serpent or dragon is based on a breadth of materials that few western scholars are fully aware of. It deserves better treatment than many such as Elizabeth Warner have given it.

Sources:

(1) Mallory, James P, and Douglas Q. Adams. Encyclopedia of Indo-European Culture. London: Fitzroy Dearborn, 1997.

(2) Shinn, L. (1972). The Indian Theogony: A Comparative Study of Indian Mythology from the Vedas to the Puranas. By Sukumari Bhattacharji. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970.

(3A) Таказов Ф.М., Кусаева З.К. ОБРАЗ АРТАУЗА В РЕЛИГИОЗНО-МИФОЛОГИЧЕСКИХ ВОЗЗРЕНИЯХ ОСЕТИН // Современные проблемы науки и образования. – 2014. – № 6.;

(3B) Zaleska Onyshkevych, L. (1982). Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. By Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky. Translated by Marco Carynnyk. Notes and essay by Bohdan Rubchak. Ukrainian Classics in Translation, no. 4. Published for the Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies. Littleton, Colo.: Ukrainian Academic Press, 1981. 

(4) Crump, Martha L, and Danté B. Fenolio. Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog, Adder’s Fork and Lizard’s Leg: The Lore and Mythology of Amphibians and Reptiles. , 2015.

(5) Vincenz, Stanislaw, H C. Stevens, and Z Czermanski. On the High Uplands: Sagas, Songs, Tales and Legends of the Carpathians. London, 1955.

(6) MacDermott, Mercia. Bulgarian Folk Customs. Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley, 2010. 

(7) Russian Fairy Tales Collected by Aleksandr Afans’ev, Translated by Norbert Guterman, Commentary by Roman Jakobson (1945) Pantheon Books

(8) MAY, WALTER. Tales of the Narts: Ancient Myths and Legends of the Ossetians. Edited by JOHN COLARUSSO and TAMIRLAN SALBIEV, Princeton University Press, 2016. JSTOR, 

(9Kropej, Telban M, Nives Sulič, and Valentina Batagelj. Supernatural Beings from Slovenian Myth and Folktales. Ljubljana: Založba ZRC, 2012.