Modern Mythology, by Andrew Lang
PHILOLOGY AND DEMETER ERINNYS
Mr. Max Müller on Demeter Erinnys.
Like Mannhardt, our author in his new treatise discusses the strange old Arcadian myth of the horse-Demeter Erinnys (ii. 537). He tells the unseemly tale, and asks why the Earth goddess became a mare? Then he gives the analogous myth from the Rig-Veda, {65} which, as it stands, is ‘quite unintelligible.’ But Yâska explains that Saranyu, daughter of Tvashtri, in the form of a mare, had twins by Vivasvat, in the shape of a stallion. Their offspring were the Asvins, who are more or less analogous in their helpful character to Castor and Pollux. Now, can it be by accident that Saranyu in the Veda is Erinnys in Greek? To this ‘equation,’ as we saw, Mannhardt demurred in 1877. Who was Saranyu? Yâska says ‘the Night;’ that was Yâska’s idea. Mr. Max Müller adds, ‘I think he is right,’ and that Saranyu is ‘the grey dawn’ (ii. 541).
‘But,’ the bewildered reader exclaims, ‘Dawn is one thing and Night is quite another.’ So Yâska himself was intelligent enough to observe, ‘Night is the wife of Aditya; she vanishes at sunrise.’ However, Night in Mr. Max Müller’s system ‘has just got to be’ Dawn, a position proved thus: ‘Yâska makes this clear by saying that the time of the Asvins, sons of Saranyu, is after midnight,’ but that ‘when darkness prevails over light, that is Madhyama; when light prevails over darkness, that is Aditya,’ both being Asvins. They (the Asvins) are, in fact, darkness and light; and therefore, I understand, Saranyu, who is Night, and not an Asvin at all, is Dawn! To make this perfectly clear, remember that the husband of Saranyu, whom she leaves at sunrise, is—I give you three guesses—is the Sun! The Sun’s wife leaves the Sun at sunrise. {66} This is proved, for Aditya is Vivasvat=the Sun, and is the husband of Saranyu (ii. 541). These methods of proving Night to be Dawn, while the substitute for both in the bed of the Sun ‘may have been meant for the gloaming’ (ii. 542), do seem to be geistvolle Spiele des Witzes, ingenious jeux d’esprit, as Mannhardt says, rather than logical arguments.
But we still do not know how the horse and mare came in, or why the statue of Demeter had a horse’s head. ‘This seems simply to be due to the fact that, quite apart from this myth, the sun had, in India at least, often been conceived as a horse . . . . and the dawn had been likened to a mare.’ But how does this explain the problem? The Vedic poets cited (ii. 542) either referred to the myth which we have to explain, or they used a poetical expression, knowing perfectly well what they meant. As long as they knew what they meant, they could not make an unseemly fable out of a poetical phrase. Not till after the meaning was forgotten could the myth arise. But the myth existed already in the Veda! And the unseemliness is precisely what we have to account for; that is our enigma.
Once more, Demeter is a goddess of Earth, not of Dawn. How, then, does the explanation of a hypothetical Dawn-myth apply to the Earth? Well, perhaps the story, the unseemly story, was first told of Erinnys (who also is ‘the inevitable Dawn’) or of Deo, ‘and this name of Deo, or Dyâvâ, was mixed up with a hypokoristic form of Demeter, Deo, and thus led to the transference of her story to Demeter. I know this will sound very unlikely to Greek scholars, yet I see no other way out of our difficulties’ (ii. 545). Phonetic explanations follow.
‘To my mind,’ says our author, ‘there is no chapter in mythology in which we can so clearly read the transition of an auroral myth of the Veda into an epic chapter of Greece as in the chapter of Saranyu (or Suramâ) and the Asvins, ending in the chapter of Helena and her brothers, the Διοσκοροι λευκοπωλοι’ (ii. 642). Here, as regards the Asvins and the Dioskouroi, Mannhardt may be regarded as Mr. Max Müller’s ally; but compare his note, A. F. u. W. K. p. xx.
My Theory of the Horse Demeter
Mannhardt, I think, ought to have tried at an explanation of myths so closely analogous as those two, one Indian, one Greek, in which a goddess, in the shape of a mare, becomes mother of twins by a god in the form of a stallion. As Mr. Max Müller well says, ‘If we look about for analogies we find nothing, as far as I know, corresponding to the well-marked features of this barbarous myth among any of the uncivilised tribes of the earth. If we did, how we should rejoice! Why, then, should we not rejoice when we find the allusion in Rig Veda?’ (x 17, 1).
I do rejoice! The ‘song of triumph,’ as Professor Tiele says, will be found in M. R. R. ii. 266 (note), where I give the Vedic and other references. I even asked why Mr. Max Müller did not produce this proof of the identity of Saranyu and Demeter Erinnys in his Selected Essays (pp. 401, 492).
I cannot explain why this tale was told both of Erinnys and of Saranyu. Granting the certainty of the etymological equation, Saranyu=Erinnys (which Mannhardt doubted), the chances against fortuitous coincidence may be reckoned by algebra, and Mr. Edgeworth’s trillions of trillions feebly express it. Two goddesses, Indian and Greek, have, ex hypothesi, the same name, and both, as mares, are mothers of twins. Though the twins (in India the Asvins, in Greek an ideal war-horse and a girl) differ in character, still the coincidence is evidential. Explain it I cannot, and, clearly as the confession may prove my lack of scientific exactness, I make it candidly.
If I must offer a guess, it is that Greeks, and Indians of India, inherited a very ordinary savage idea. The gods in savage myths are usually beasts. As beasts they beget anthropomorphic offspring. This is the regular rule in totemism. In savage myths we are not told ‘a god’ (Apollo, or Zeus, or Poseidon) ‘put on beast shape and begat human sons and daughters’ (Helen, the Telmisseis, and so on). The god in savage myths was a beast already, though he could, of course, shift shapes like any ‘medicine-man,’ or modern witch who becomes a hare. This is not the exception but the rule in savage mythology. Anyone can consult my Myth, Ritual, and Religion, or Mr. Frazer’s work Totemism, for abundance of evidence. To Loki, a male god, prosecuting his amours as a female horse, I have already alluded, and in M. R. R. give cases from the Satapatha Brahmana.
The Saranyu-Erinnys myth dates, I presume, from this savage state of fancy; but why the story occurred both in Greece and India, I protest that I cannot pretend to explain, except on the hypothesis that the ancestors of Greek and Vedic peoples once dwelt together, had a common stock of savage fables, and a common or kindred language. After their dispersion, the fables admitted discrepancies, as stories in oral circulation occasionally do. This is the only conjecture which I feel justified in suggesting to account for the resemblances and incongruities between the myths of the mare Demeter-Erinnys and the mare Saranyu.
Footnotes
{65} x. 17. Cf. Muir, Sanskrit Texts, v. 277.
{66} As the Sun’s wife is Dawn, and leaves him at dawn, she is not much of a bedfellow. As Night, however, she is a bedfellow of the nocturnal Sun.