The theme of gender-changing, whether by one’s own hand or choice or by another’s, occurs frequently in Hellenic mythologies. It is accompanied, often, by gender-reversal; by gods and daimones acting as the opposite gender, rather than actually becoming the opposite gender. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the gender fluidity of the gods (and certain gods in particular), and part to the necessity of their act for their own gain, or for the gain of the entire kosmos. In this essay, I will be discussing, in-depth, the three most notable occurrences of gender-changing – Hermaphroditos’, Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele’s, and Attis’.

The most memorable case of gender-changing is that of Hermaphroditos, the god of hermaphrodites, effeminate men, masculine women, transsexuals, transgenders, etc. Hermaphroditos’ gender-change (or, more correctly, gender-merge) is also his primary mythology. He is rarely named in the literature that points to the Erotes, although he is numbered among them, both by his parentage and divine function; and even the mythology of his birth is short and barely-considered. His pre- and post-merge mythology is barely touched upon; despite his Olympic parentage, he seems to have been all but forgotten by the Classical writers, in all respects other than detailing his merge with the nympha Salmakis.
Hermaphroditos (or Atlantius, as he was once/otherwise known, according to Hyginus, Fabulae, 271), ‘whom in Mount Ida’s caves the Naiades nurtured’ (Ovid, Metamorphoses, 4.28ff), was a youth comparable in beauty only to Adonis, Ganymedes, Endymion, Hyakinthos, Narkissos, Hylas and Khrysippos. It is interesting to note, here, that several of these most beautiful youths–Adonis, Hyakinthos and Ganymedes and, to a lesser extent, Hylas–all experienced a gender reversal, which will be discussed in Gender-Reversal in Gods and Daimones.
When he was fifteen–’when thrice five years had passed’ (Met, 4.28ff)–Hermaphroditos ventured from Mount Ida, ‘eager to roam strange lands afar’ (Met, 4.28ff), and eventually came upon Salmakis’ ‘limpid shining pool’ (Met, 4.28ff). Salmakis, upon seeing the beautiful youth, declared her love for him. He, who ‘knew not what love was’ (Met, 4.28ff), rejected her as she ‘besought at least a sister’s kiss’ (Met, 4.28ff). Pretending to accept his rejection, the nympha Salmakis withdrew from sight; and Hermaphroditos, thinking himself alone, stepped into her pool and ’stripped his light garments from his slender limbs’ (Met, 4.28ff). Salmakis watched him until he dived into the pool; and that–in succumbing to the pull of her water–made him hers, seemingly, for she ‘flung aside her clothes and plunged far out into the pool and grappled him’ (Met, 4.28ff). Hermaphroditos struggled to free himself and, at last, she managed to gain such a hold on him that ‘her clinging body seemed fixed fast to his’ (Met, 4.28ff), and she beseeched the gods to never let their bodies part. The gods (though it is unknown which gods) accepted the prayer and ‘both bodies merged in one, both blended in one form and face . . . they two were two no more, nor man, nor woman–one body then that neither seemed and both.’ (Met, 4.28ff) Hermaphroditos, now merged with Salmakis, emerged from the pool, saw that ‘the waters of the pool, where he had dived a man, had rendered him half woman’ (Met, 4.28ff) and beseeched his divine parents, Hermes and Aphrodite, that ‘whoso in these waters bathes a man emerge half woman, weakened instantly’ (Met, 4.28ff). His parents agreed; and ‘drugged the bright water with that power impure’ (Met, 4.28ff).
Diodorus Siculus described Hermaphroditos, after the merging with the nympha: ‘Some say that this Hermaphroditos is a god and appears at certain times among men, and that he is born with a physical body which is a combination of that of a man and that of a woman, in that he has a body which is beautiful and delicate like that of a woman, but has the masculine quality and vigour of a man.’ (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 4.6.5.) Diodorus Siculus then continued to note that ‘there are some who declare that such creatures of two sexes are monstrosities, and coming rarely into the world as they do they have the quality of presaging the future, sometimes for evil and sometimes for good.’ (Library of History, 4.6.5.)

The above quote of Diodorus Siculus can be applied, in turn, to the monster-god Agdistis, born of the Phrygian Sky God and Earth Goddess–Ouranos and Gaia–who would later become Kybele, equated with Rhea as Rhea-Kybele, mother of the gods.
Agdistis was, according to Pausanias, born when Ouranos (or, rather, the Phrygian sky god – who Pausanias equates with Zeus, strangely), ‘let fall in his sleep seed upon the ground, which in course of time sent up a Daimon, with two sexual organs, male and female.’ (Pausanias, Guide to Greece, 7.17.8.) Fearing Agdistis–the bi-sexed, and therefore aggressively, and by some accounts, literally insanely, sexual god–the other gods ‘cut off the male organ’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8), thus effectively changing Agdistis, a bi-sexed god, to Rhea-Kybele, a solely female god. An almond tree grew from Agdistis-Kybele’s castrated organ, and a nympha daughter of the river-god Sangarios ‘took the fruit and laid it in her bosom, when it at once disappeared, but she was with child.’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8.)
The child born was the youth Attis; and as he grew, his beauty, which was ‘more than human’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8) drew Agdistis-Kybele’s eye. She fell in love with him; and he ‘conquered the towered goddess with pure love’ (Ovid, Fasti, 4.222). Attis swore to her that he would ‘desire to be a boy always’ and that if he ever cheated, the one ‘I cheat with [will] be my last’ (Fasti, 4.222). He cheated, either by having an affair with the nympha Sagaritis (Fasti, 4.222) or by an attempt at marrying a king’s daughter (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8).
Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele, in divine wrath and madness, either then killed Sagaritis–by cutting down the nympha’s tree; ‘her fate was the tree’s’ (Fasti, 4.222)–or showed up at the wedding of Attis and the king’s daughter, whilst ‘the marriage-song was being song’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8); either version, though, caused Attis to descend into instant madness. Attis ‘bolts to Dindymus’ heights’ (Fasti, 4.222) and ‘went mad and cut off his genitals’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8), until ‘no signs of manhood remained.’ (Fasti, 4.222.) According to Pausanias, she then ‘repented of what she had done to Attis, and persuaded Zeus to grant the body of Attis should neither rot at all nor decay’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8); effectively, then, immortalising him.
This myth–beginning with Agdistis’ conception and ending with Attis’ immortal rebirth–has several common themes. The first, of course, is gender-changing; Agdistis, the bi-sexed, became Rhea-Kybele, a mother goddess, and simultaneously impregnated Sangarios’ nympha daughter, and thus became a father goddess, too. Attis, the boy born of the nympha and Agdistis’ castrated genitals, castrated himself, in turn, and ‘became a model: soft-skinned acolytes toss their hair and cut their worthless organs’ (Fasti, 4.222), thus effectively changing his own gender - and although his gender was changed by his own hands, it was caused by Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele. The second important theme is accidental pregnancy: the Phrygian Sky God’s/Ouranos’ impregnation of Gaia, the Earth, creating the bi-sexed Agdistis; and then Agdistis’ castrated genitals’ impregnation of Sangarios’ daughter, creating the lovely Attis. The entire myth continues the theme of ‘creatures of two sexes are monstrosities’, as suggested by Diodorus Siculus; and is a reoccuring theme within Hellenic mythology. Perhaps the other gods are wary the raw, fertile, mad power of bi-sexed gods; or, perhaps it was simply the prejudices of Classical society, made into divine acceptance through the mythos.

In Gender-Reversal in Gods and Daimones, I will be further exploring the gender switches in the Greek mythos; including Zeus’ gender-switch into Artemis, Adonis’ androgynous nature, Ganymedes’ and Hyakinthos’ apparent femininity and feminine values; and others.

Wild lions play at the feet of the queen
They willingly choose to serve. Their fierce
Music sweeps from their deep, rich throats and falls
Like silk on Rhea’s gleaming, divine skin.

The trees sag and sigh,
Golden beads rise and fall on their trunks,
Staining them.
Blood seeps down my skin,
Staining it.

I am the rush the ecstasy
the need the
want want want
the desire, oh, the desire.

Crowns of sacrifice sit on my head;
An angel and demon, shining with it.
Love. Need. Hunger.
Want.

I bleed wine, truly. It doesn’t stop, just
Pours out,
Until all that remains is me.
My need.

Apollon invites me to chess.
Laughs. We can be enemies.
Thrilled, flushed with something.
I smile at him with jagged teeth.

Aphrodite kisses the tip of my nose,
Whispers that if there is only need then there is only chaos,
And the order flees at that.
She needs the order – she doesn’t smile for chaos yet.

Not like Rhea. Dancing, wild.
Want a kiss, bite to die for?
She blazes gold, outshining the sunset,
And she brings blood singing back to my veins.

Need. Want desire hunger.
Starving children crawling down streets, crying;
Men in suits driving fast cars, laughing.
As long as there is need, I am here.

Wine – sating a different hunger.
Pulsing, throbbing–not quite there, but there.
Father sits on his throne. Lightning dances in his hands.
We will never die, he says, but I am not sure.

We bring joy, pain;
A thousand laughs and a thousand tears.
I exist. Without need
I wouldn’t.

I return to Apollon.
Opposites attract. Need balances.
Heat plunges between us.
I join the game of chess.

But in Rome, the centre of Western civilization, it was otherwise: there it was the Phrygian god who was in possession; the dominating position held by the cult of Attis and Magna Mater [...]

The first of the Oriental cults to gain a footing in the Imperial city, the worship of the Magna Mater of Pessinonte was, for a time, rigidly confined within the limits of her sanctuary. The orgiastic ritual of the priests of Kybele made at first little appeal to the more disciplined temperament of the Roman population. By degrees, however, it won its way, and by the reign of Claudius had become so popular that that emperor instituted public feasts in honour of Kybele and Attis, feasts which were celebrated at the Spring solstice, March 15-27th.

As the public feast increased in opularity, so did the Mystery feast, of which the initiated alone were privileged to partake, acquire a symbolic significance: the foods partaken of became ‘a food of spiritual life, intended to sustain the initiate in the trials of existence.’ [...]

- Jessie Weston From Ritual to Romance

*

Tra l’altro il fiume Almone era protagonista di un imprtante culto di origine orientale, la “Lavatio Matris Deum“, che si svolgeva il 27 marzo di ogni anno proprio dove le acque sfociano nel Tevere: dal tempio sul Palatino, una solenne processione portava la pietra sacra alla Magna Mater (la dea Cibele) fino all’Ostiense, e li si purificavano l’immagine e gli arnesi del culto nell’acqua dell’Almone. L’importante cerimonia duro’ fino al 389 d.C., anno in cui fu abolita per incompatibilita’ con la religione cristiana.

- La storia ci racconta: visita guidata al patrimonio storico-artistico della via Latina e della valle della Caffarella

Classical writings and art portray Rhea (identified with the Anatolian Kybele, thus forming Rhea-Kybele) as accompanied by, or as riding, lions. To understand exactly why this is—why Rhea-Kybele is so intimately connected with lions—one must look first to the Classical mythologies, and then to the symbolism of the lion.

Rhea-Kybele, as the mother of the gods Demeter, Hades, Hera, Hestia, Poseidon and Zeus, carries titles such as Mêtêr Theôn (mother of the gods), Mêtêr Megalê (great mother) and Mêtêr Isodromê (fast-paced mother). In myth, she is the wife (or ex-wife) of Kronos, the Titane god of destructive time; according to writers such as Hesiod, Pindar and Apollodorus, Kronos took to devouring each of their children, due to a prophecy that he would be overthrown by one of his children. Naturally, Rhea hated this and so when Zeus was born, she hid him away in the mountains, and appointed warrior daimones (spirits) to guard him. These daimones are known by multiple names—they are named the Kouretes of Krete, the Korybantes of Phrygia, the Gigantes of Arkadia, the Daktyloi of Troad or the Kabeiroi of Samothrake—but are, according to Strabo (in Geography, 10.3.7), the same group of spirits. These warrior daimones (which I will, for the sake of ease, name as the Kouretes) guarded the infant Zeus as he aged. According to Oppian, Kronos discovered Zeus when he was a child, and turned Zeus’ guards into lions: ‘And when the son of Ouranos beheld the lusty young child he transformed the first glorious guardians of Zeus and in vengeance made the Kouretes wild beasts. And since by the devising of the god Kronos exchanged their human shape and put upon them the form of Lions, thenceforth by the boon of Zeus they greatly lord it over the wild beasts which dwell upon the hills.’ (Oppian, Cynegetica 3.7.)

The second account of how Rhea-Kybele became so linked with lions is in the myth of Hippomenes, as described by Ovid. According to this, Aphrodite aided the hero Hippomenes in his race for the hand of Atalantê; however when Hippomenes won, he failed to give Aphrodite her dues, and she, incensed, drove Hippomenes and Atalantê to the temple of the Mater Deum (the Mêtêr Theôn; Rhea-Kybele). When they arrived, Aphrodite roused desire within them, and, they ‘entered here and with forbidden sin defiled the sanctuary’ of the Mater Deum. As punishment, Rhea-Kybele changed them into lions: ‘Therefore their necks, so smooth before, she clothed with tawny manes, their fingers curved to claws; their arms were changed to legs; their chests swelled with new weight; with tails they swept the sandy ground; and in their eyes cruel anger blazed and growls they gave for speech. Their marriage-bed is now a woodland lair, and feared by men, but by the goddess tamed, they champ – two lions – the bits of Cybele.’ (Ovid, Metamorphoses 10.681.)

These accounts, though, are somewhat contradictory. In the first, the metamorphosised Kouretes are placed at Rhea-Kybele’s side as a blessing and honour; in the second, lions are her attendants as a warning and a curse. In order to decide which account best fits, one must look to Rhea-Kybele’s relationship to the lion, and, also, to the way that the Ancient Greeks viewed the lion – the symbolism of the lion.

Firstly, The Homeric Hymn 14 to the Mother of the Gods describes how the Mêtêr Theôn is ‘well-pleased with the sound of rattles and of timbrels, with the voice of flutes and the outcry of wolves and bright-eyes lions.’ Secondly, according to Valerius Flaccus, Rhea-Kybele was furious when Cyzicus killed one of her lions and hung its head to shame her: ‘Cyzicus upon his swift horse . . . with his javelin he slew a lion that was wont to bear its mistress through the cities of Phrygia and was now returning to the bridle. And now (Madman!) hath he hung from his doorposts the mane and the head of his victim, a spoil to bring sorrow to himself and shame upon the goddess. But she, nursing her great rage, beholds from the cymbal-clashing mountain the ship with its border of kingly shields,  and devises against the hero deaths and horrors unheard of.’ (Valerius Flaccus, Argonautica 3.20.) Thirdly, Nonnus describes how Rhea-Kybele’s home contains her lions, and how they are fed ambrosia – the food of the gods – by her castrated son and lover, Attis: ‘he entered the divine precinct selfbuilt of Rheia, mother of mighty sons. He freed his ravening lions from the yokestraps, and haltered them at the manger which he filled with ambrosial fodder.’ (Nonnus, Dionysiaca 25.310.)

The above sources do not indicate a hatred of Rhea-Kybele for lions; they, in fact, indicate quite the opposite. She is ‘well-pleased’ with her lions; the slaughter of them causes her ‘great rage’; and her own lover cares for them and feeds them ‘ambrosial fodder’, thus granting them immortality. This all suggests that Rhea-Kybele’s lions are not kept around her as a warning or curse; but as a blessing, as an honour to those who so protected her son, Zeus. In order to confirm—or deny—this suggestion, one should look to how, exactly, the people of the ancient cultures of the time viewed the lion.

Ancient Egyptians sometimes portrayed their pharaohs as sphinxes, thus identifying them with lions. Therefore sphinxes (and lions) were identified with power, rule and protection – interestingly, this is echoed in Rhea-Kybele’s turret crown (as identified by both Ovid and Propertius), which emphasises her nature as a warrior goddess concerned with protection of the city. The Egyptians associated two of their goddesses, Bast and Sekhmet (both originally identified as having the head of a lioness), and the god Maahes, son of either Bast or Sekhmet, with lions. Bast is the Egyptian god of pleasure, festivity, cats, ferocity, perfumes, vermin and the destruction thereof, women, mothers and motherhood and protection; Sekhmet of warriors, hunters, protection, women, motherhood, bloodlust, menstruation, death, disease and deserts; and Maahes of war, weather, knives, hunting, strength, power and protection of matrilineality. It can therefore be assumed that the Egyptians identified lions with such things as power, war, hunting, protection, women, disease and death.

Ancient Greeks “borrowed” the sphinx from the Egyptians in their own Sphinx, one of the Theres, who presided over matters such as destruction, bad luck, riddles, strangulation and the death of young men. The Sphinx is often said to have been sent by one of the gods—usually Hera (as identified by Apollodorus, The Library 3.5.8)—as a punishment to the people of Thebes, and as thus would have connection to Hera’s domain: women, marriage, weather, the heavens, motherhood, etc. This forms an interesting parallel to the Nemean Lion (said by some, such as Hesiod, to be the brother of the Sphinx), whom Hera ‘trained up and settled among the hills of Nemeia, to be a plague to mankind’ (Hesiod, Theogony 327ff). Bacchylides (Fragment 9), Callimachus (Aetia Fragments 55 and 108) and Aelian (On Animals 12.7) also describe Hera as having nurtured or sent the Nemean Lion. Due to their links to Hera (and, sometimes, to each-other), both the Sphinx and the Nemean Lion can be said to be associated with women, wrath, war, death, destruction, revenge, mothers, motherhood, marriage, the (night) sky, and so on. One must also consider Rhea-Kybele’s nature and influence; she is considered a goddess of women, marriage, childbirth (and mothers and motherhood), fertility, sexuality, madness, destruction, protection, and so on.

Linking together the views of the Ancient Egyptians and Greeks, one can presume that these ancient cultures viewed lions as being connected to women, disease, death, hunting, war, power, destruction, mothers, motherhood, childbirth, fertility, protection of cities, madness and protection of women. Because of this, and the manner in which the above-mentioned sources (concerning Rhea-Kybele’s relationship to the lion) portray Rhea-Kybele’s apparent affection for lions, the suggestion that lions are at her side as an honour, rather than a warning, seems more concrete.

Because of all this, one can further understand the nature of Rhea-Kybele. Her links to motherhood, women, fertility, protection, war, death and destruction become even more pronounced; and as such, the links between lions and these matters becomes more solid. In conclusion, then, Rhea-Kybele, when accompanied by her mountain-roaming lions, gains further prestige and connections as an incredibly powerful goddess. Her lions remind onlookers of the benefits of her favour, and of her love for warriors, women and the fertile wilderness – even with their humanity destroyed, her Kouretes linger at her sides, loving and protecting her with everything they have.

Read Write Prompt #16: It’s Like Deja Vu All Over Again!

Rhea-Kybele – motherhood.

The eyes of a woman, burning with pain
Not yet–or ever–known to human men.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
As she waits for her children to be born.

She supports herself when her old man flees.
Two children, now fatherless; they have her.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love;
She will do all she can to keep them safe.

Her children grow, blossoming like flowers,
And soon they are heartbreakers, heartbroken.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
And when they need her, she is there for them.

The time comes for them to leave their nest-home;
The mother blinks back tears and kisses them.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love.
They need to do this; and she must let them.

They return, years later, with grandchildren;
Noise once more fills the mother’s lonely house.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
And when they leave, the mother turns away.

She grows old, trapped away in her world; she
Is kept away from the children she loves.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
And she knows that she has done all she can.

Winter begins to make her thin bones ache;
She moves slowly, lest the pain destroy her.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love;
Her children return, old themselves; she smiles.

In her final days, it is not only
Her lovely children watching over her.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
As day turns to night; and she slips away.

The mother of all, Rhea-Kybele,
Meets her in the twilight between the worlds.
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
As the Mighty Mother kisses her brow.

The mother asks her, “What should I do now?”
Rhea-Kybele smiles. “Be who you are.”
The pain, though, is blurred with the edge of love,
And the mother’s soul can finally rest.

Read Write Prompt #14: Love Poem to your Crooked Toes, or Writing An Ode.

Rhea-Kybele: the human body.

There is nothing in this world
Quite so lovely as the human body.
I pass golden fingers over their cold warmth
And delight in the boundary of their skin.
Sometimes, I hook my fingers under their ribs
And wait for the crunch, the snap,
That tells me I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.
And then I pull out their heart, still beating.

There is nothing in this world
Quite so lovely as the human body.
It is Aphrodite’s in life, and Persephone’s in death,
But, always, it belongs most to me.
I drive the needs of the limbs, the yearning
For completion, for sex. I drive childbirth,
That moment when everything changes, and
Nothing is as important as this new, fragile babe.

There is nothing in this world
Quite so lovely as the human body.
I adore it, truly. I kissed Attis as both boy and girl,
And loved neither more – I loved only the feel of his lips,
Then her lips; soft and firm, yielding and not.
The body doesn’t deny my pleasure; it wants me
As surely as a babe wants to breathe.
Nothing can change that, and nothing ever will.

There is nothing in this world
Quite so lovely as the human body.
The hair, silky-soft; the liquid eyes; the slope of the nose.
The rosebud lips; the gently-curved ears; the arch of the throat.
The smooth chest, breasts, stomach, lower.
Arms, wrists; thighs, toes.
Truly, is there anything so lovely as all of that?
I think not; and should I, a goddess, not know?

Nothing.
There is nothing in this world
Quite so lovely as the human body.
That is the truth, and that is life.

When you hear the name ‘Aphrodite,’ it is highly likely that you immediately understand who it is one is speaking of – after all, Aphrodite (and the Roman goddess that she was identified with, Venus) is a popular figure even outside of Hellenic Polytheistic circles. However, unless you have delved quite deeply into the Greek mythologies, it is unlikely that you will know who ‘Ananke’ is. She is not a mainstream goddess; she is not Olympian nor an attendant of such, but rather she is one of the gods—the Protogenos or primeval gods—who are principally responsible for the creation of the cosmos and everything within it.

Simply put, Ananke is the god of compulsion, necessity and inevitability. She was born the sister-mate of the Protogenos Khronos, king of time—who is deeply identified with Aion, the Protogenos lord of eternity—and from their embrace Phanes first begun. Phanes, the primeval god of creation and generation, equated with Hesiod’s Elder Eros and the more well-known (and oft-called ‘younger’) Eros, god of love and the son of Aphrodite.

In my personal view of How The Kosmos Came To Be—based on a mix of classical sources—in the beginning, and for unknowable eons, all that existed was Khaos; the deep mists of the void. Khaos existed, and nothing else: she did not breathe, she did not think, she did not live. And yet stirring in her misty womb—perhaps over hundreds of thousands of years; perhaps for even longer—were the Protogenos gods Ananke and Khronos-Aion. Nature, of course, abhors a vacuum; and so it was the eternal pull of inevitability that pulsed together in the barely-there body of Khaos until, finally, the moment arose and Ananke and Khronos-Aion were born, tangled together.

From Khronos-Aion and Ananke’s violent, and yet utterly sexless, embrace, Phanes’ egg was produced; it grew in Ananke’s womb until the time came for it to emerge. And yet there was, truly, no way for the egg to emerge: there was yet no Phanes, no Protogenos pull to reproduce – and so they could not, did not, reproduce. It was only when Phanes hatched from his egg, deep in Ananke’s body, that they became truly, sexually formed: and at that moment, Ananke was torn apart by the immense pressure of generation, life, sex – the immense pressure that was Phanes. Thus, now, Ananke’s divinity rested with Khronos’ still, but she was utterly formless—more so, even, than Khaos.

Phanes’ arrival—his necessary arrival—into the kosmos kicked everything into action. The other Protogenos offspring that had been stirring within Khaos were instantly born – Erebos, Nyx, Tartaros and Gaia; darkness, night, the stormy pit beneath the earth and the earth itself, respectively. Phanes pulsed, everywhere: the Protogenos gods crashed together and life exploded in the far-reaching darkness of the kosmos.

Gaia, with only Phanes’ massively sexual influence and no tangible partner, produced children such as Ouranos, the heavens, whom shortly thereafter became the father, with Gaia, of the twelve Titanes. The Titanes were led by Kronos, god of destructive time, and the bi-gendered god Agdistis, who would later be castrated and become the goddess Rhea-Kybele. However, not all was as perfectly peaceful as it may sound: and the first war between the gods was not long in arriving.

After the Titanes’ births, Ouranos and Gaia continued to come together—he descended nightly to lie with her—and they produced more children, the Hekatonkheires (six hundred-handed and fifty-headed gigantes). The Hekatonkheires were so awful and terrifying to look upon that, after the birth of the first, Ouranos took it upon himself to force each back into Gaia’s womb. This caused her immense pain, and she eventually went to her Titane sons to ask them for their help. Only Kronos agreed to help.

Kronos, as is rather well known, ambushed Ouranos as he descended to lie with Gaia, and castrated him. The severed genitals of the god landed in the sea, mixing with Thalassa’s Protogenos sea-womb – and Aphrodite began to take shape. Over the course of the hundreds of years during which Aphrodite was formed, Agdistis became Rhea-Kybele, Rhea and Kronos’ Olympian children were born, Kronos swallowed all of the Olympians but Zeus, and Zeus, when old and powerful enough, waged war with the Titanes and won the reign of the kosmos.

As such, this time was not yet right for Aphrodite: the Moirai spun the threads of violence, hate and pain, and there was then no opening for a god such as Aphrodite who encompassed both spectrums of emotions and bodily states; the good (such as love, piety and friendship) and the awful (war, torture and death). And as she was growing—slowly and steadily, in the womb of deep Thalassa—the divine essence of Ananke remained torn apart. That essence resonated with Aphrodite’s own: for both are gods of compulsion, of necessity, of want and need and inevitability, and both longed for completion – Aphrodite for the wars to cease and to be born, lovely and whole, and Ananke to return to her mate Khronos-Aion, who continued to turn the heavens without her.

It was inevitable, in and of itself, that Ananke’s loose divinity would be attracted to Aphrodite’s. They drew steadily closer—Ananke filtered through Thalassa’s womb and delighted in the contact with a fellow yearning divine—until, in a burst of what truly could only be described as fate, their essences merged together. Ananke ceased to exist; Aphrodite alone never truly existed. They became one: Aphrodite-Ananke, the Protogenos, Titane and even Olympian goddess of the necessity of procreation, the compulsion of love, and the inevitability of beauty in a world created by such gods as these.

The war between the Olympians and the Titanes ended shortly after, and the time came for Aphrodite-Ananke to, slowly, be born. At this time, Phanes’ influence was still everywhere, pushing at anything and everything to create, create, create; and it was here that ‘Aphrodite’ and ‘Eros’ first met, as she was being born and he was there to urge her on (and yet he was her own child: for he was the son of Ananke and Khronos, and her essence was now so wound with Ananke’s that it would have been impossible—truly, truly impossible—to separate them; they had totally become one).

From the very first, Aphrodite-Ananke and Phanes connected. As the resonance between Aphrodite and Ananke had occurred, it occurred now between Phanes and Aphrodite-Ananke – but the end result was much different. Instead of their essences merging, Phanes wrapped himself around the child-goddess and all but suffocated her in his embrace. From this, a seed of divinity flickered in Aphrodite-Ananke’s womb—a connection—and Phanes poured his entire divinity into Aphrodite-Ananke in a tidal wave that shook the childhood from her essence and brought about, simultaneously, the rapid development of the child, or rather the children, within her womb.

She gave birth to Phanes immediately: he was now born again as Phanes-Eros, Phanes-Himeros and Phanes-Pothos – the gods of love, desire and passion. By the time that she finally reached the shore of Cyprus, Zeus immediately met her and ordered that she join the Olympian gods, perhaps recognising the Protogenos stir in her eyes and smiles, and she, in turn, asked Nerites to join her. He refused, and refused again the wings she would offer him, and the first instance of her wrath against a wrongdoer of love occurred; she turned him into a shellfish, and gave the wings to her Erotes, instead.

And, thus, Aphrodite-Ananke became known as simply Aphrodite, and her sons not as Phanes-Eros, Phanes-Himeros and Phanes-Pothos, but simply Eros, Himeros and Pothos. It is these words that even I most commonly use, due to ease, but the deity I refer to each time is the same: ‘Aphrodite’ is the mixture of the essences of Aphrodite and Ananke; ‘Eros’ is Phanes reborn as Eros; ‘Himeros’ is, likewise, Phanes-Himeros; and, finally, ‘Pothos’ is Phanes-Pothos.

Das Schiff  Kybele ist der Nachbau eines Schiffes aus dem Jahr 600 v. Chr (Link enthält Foto). Es befuhr eine der damaligen Hauptrouten: Von Kleinasien nach – wie die Stadt heute heisst – Marseille. Angetrieben wird das Schiff von eifrigen Ruderern und von Segel.

Damals waren die Phönizier und die Griechen emsig dabei Kolonien zu gründen. Reichlich errichteten sie neue Städte, die Phönizier beispielsweise Karthago. Die Phönizier umrundeten halb Afrika bis zur Elfenbeinküste.

Der Nachbau des alten Schiffs ist mittlerweile angekommen in Marseille.

Reichlich Fotos von der Kybele finden Sie hier.

Vielleicht kommt die Zeit, wo haufenweise solche Schiffe mit Ex-Bankstern als Ruderer bemannt die Weltmeere durchpflügen. Wir wollen es den Bankstern nicht wünschen.

Peregrinatio non facit medicum, non oratorem;
nulla ars loco discitur:
quid ergo?
Sapientia, ars omnium maxima, in itinere colligitur?
Fugam tibi non prodesse miraris?
Tecum sunt,
quae fugis.
(Seneca)

I’d love to know
How things got to be
How they are.

(had it in mind, wonder who said that)

Ψ

Here is a first selection of themes from Man of Roma. Each link leads to pages with excerpts from our posts that illustrate the chosen themes. I couldn’t get much into the conversations kicked off by the posts for lack of time. You can have a look yourself since lots of additional materials are in the comments area.

This post is meant for those interested in finding their bearings in the ideas of this blog. You will notice leitmotivs that circulate in our posts. I have also chosen posts related to one another.

Another selection – to be published not immediately though, I don’t want to lose all my readers – will regard the relationships between South and North Europe, Europe and North America, East and West, Great Britain and the Continent.

Ψ

The Legacy of Rome
Rome is the city of the soul (as Byron and Victor Hugo put it,) of our authentic Western soul, since Europe and the West were shaped here, and Rome’s legacy is greater than we think.

Folks of the Mediterranean Sea
The Italian and Roman soul is intimately tied to the folks of the Mediterranean. We are all related. Food, plants and plenty of traditions are similar. On a long-period perspective we belong to the same historical stream, to the same area from which some of the great civilizations have germinated on this side of the planet. Of course there are differences among us, but we are not so dissimilar as someone might (or likes to) think. Many behaviours, defined for example as Islamic, actually belong to the ancient past of Mare Nostrum, the context and stage of all that made us the way we are.

Influences of the Classical World
The Greco-Roman classical civilization has moulded the world we live in today. Influences and survivals can be seen in behaviours, arts etc.

Sex and the City (of Rome)
An exploration of Greco-Roman sexuality and of what is left today of such different mores. I have dedicated a series of 5 posts (out of 105) to this theme but the series is always in the ‘top posts’ list on the right column. Not that I mind, and I don’t regret having written them.
I have tried to understand how alien Greco-Roman sex can be, vis-à-vi contemporary sexuality, and why things have changed so much since then.

Dialogue Among Civilisations
Some communication has occurred with non Western people, very enriching though not always easy. Great civilizations tend to close-up a bit, they being like complete in themselves. We had good connection with the Indians. Their good English has helped. Rediscovering one’s heritage doesn’t exclude others, quite the contrary. It means having something peculiar to transmit, in order to be able, in our turn, to receive.

Survivals of Roman Religion
When talking about religion it is important to understand that history and faith, science and theology fly on different planes and shouldn’t be confused. By Roman religion we mean any cult that was followed in ancient Rome, also foreign ones. As an example, the cult of the Anatolian Kybele, the great mother-goddess, was established on the Palatine Hill in 210 BC, according to Livy. To the historian, anthropologist etc. the number of Roman religion survivals is impressive.

Crisis of Values in Affluent Countries
We all here in the West must encourage a totally new different attitude which can enable us to better face both our present crisis of values and the radical changes ahead which might cause our swift decline. In Europe especially religion is waning and people sometimes embrace weird beliefs (see below Neo-pagan underground temples in Northern Italy.) Rich countries should be full of happy people, all the requirements for happiness (or serenity) being present. Nonetheless one has the impression that often void rules and that people don’t know any more which are the right choices in everyday life.

The Greco-Roman Roots of the West
Similar to the ‘Influences of the Classical World’ but seen from a different viewpoint.

Traces of Paganism in Italians
Sometimes Italians, especially from the South, are considered superstitious. Whatever we mean by this word, these superstitions seem often remnants of the Greco-Roman past. Italians were highly civilized long before Christianity arrived (9-10 centuries earlier,) while many Northern Europeans became civilised together with, and thanks to, Christianity. This couldn’t be without consequences.

The Human Mind is Like a Museum
The human mind is like a museum since it contains almost infinite traces of past conceptions, from Stone Age onwards.

Según anuncia el Hurriyet turco, la próxima semana, una réplica de una antigua birreme fenicia -la Kybele- zarpará desde la ciudad turca de Izmir en el Mar Egeo con un equipo de 20 remeros e intentará cruzar el  Mediterráneo hasta llegar a Francia.

La nave Kybele, así llamada en memoria de la diosa anatolia identificada con Rea y Cibeles, abandonará la ciudad de Foca cerca de Izmir y hará una travesía de 3.700 kilómetros hasta llegar al antiguo puerto de Marsella, al sur de Francia.

Los remeros, estudiantes y miembros de la 360 Degrees Association, dormirán en los bancos de madera de 20 metros de largo de la birreme y el barco usará velas de algodón para tratar de mantener el rumbo.

El capitán del barco, el arqueólogo Erkurt Osman ha dicho de esta birreme que ”es la réplica más exacta posible de los barcos de la época. Se ha construído a partir de los hallazgos durante las excavaciones”.

El Kybele, cuyo viaje se ha retrasado varias veces por problemas de visado y por el mal tiempo, seguirá la misma ruta que seguían los colonos griegos y fenicios hacia el año 600 a.C. hacia países como Italia y Francia.

Se espera que llegue a Marsella el 1 de julio para coincidir con el inicio de la Jornada de la Cultura Turca en Francia.

Imagen: Baltimoresun

Agence France Presse, 5 mai 2009

Michel Sailhan

La birème Kybele, réplique des navires antiques qui croisaient en Méditerranée, quittera bientôt le village turc de Foça (Phocée) avec vingt rameurs à son bord, pour Marseille, la ville du sud de la France fondée il y a 2.600 ans par les Phocéens.

Les préparatifs se poursuivent sur le quai de ce tranquille village situé près d’Izmir (ouest de la Turquie), avant l’appareillage probable la semaine prochaine de l’embarcation à la silhouette inhabituelle: un peu drakkar, un peu boutre de la Mer rouge.

Le départ a déjà été reporté plusieurs fois, car outre des problèmes administratifs (visas, autorisations) il faut compter avec les conditions météo, sur un bateau où le gouvernail ressemble à un soc de charrue.

Quant à la voile qui permet aux rameurs — des étudiants et membres de l’”Association 360 degrés” à l’initiative du projet — de se reposer un peu sur les bancs de nage, c’est un rectangle sommaire de coton qui ne sera guère efficace qu’au vent arrière.

“C’est la réplique la plus exacte possible des bateaux de l’époque. Il a été construit à partir de ce qui a été retrouvé lors de fouilles, en particulier sur les jarres”, explique le capitaine et archéologue Osman Erkurt.

La coque étroite en bois a une vingtaine de mètres de longueur, compte tenu de l’éperon qui prolonge l’étrave, rappelant que ces embarcations étaient aussi des navires de combat, où les rameurs se transformaient souvent en guerriers.

Kybele doit suivre la route des colons grecs phocéens, à partir de ce qui était en l’an 600 avant Jésus Christ l’Asie mineure, aujourd’hui la côte turque, jusqu’à Marseille, en faisant des escales presque quotidiennes en Grèce et en Italie.

Après une navigation côtière de 2.300 milles, l’arrivée au Vieux port de Marseille est prévue le 1er juillet, pour coïncider avec l’ouverture de la Saison de la Turquie en France, a expliqué l’ambassadeur de France en Turquie, Bernard Emié, lors d’une petite cérémonie à Foça le week-end dernier.

Jusqu’à la fin de cette saison en mars 2010, plus de 400 événements culturels et économiques et sociaux sont prévus en France, pour faire découvrir la Turquie.

Le périple de Kybele — du nom de la déesse anatolienne Cybèle adorée dans les cités grecques d’Orient et jusqu’à Rome et Marseille — se poursuivra jusqu’à Paris par le Rhône, la Saône et la Seine, puis sur le Danube, selon les organisateurs.

Le coût global est d’environ 750.000 euros, pris en charge en partie par des entreprises locales, et le projet est soutenu notamment par le Centre culturel français d’Izmir (la Smyrne antique), et les mairies de Foça, Marseille et Cassis.

A son retour en Turquie, la birème doit participer aux activités prévues lors de l’événement “Istanbul, capitale européenne de la culture”, en 2010.

Cotis (latina), Kotys (greaca), Ceotis, Ciotis (romana) este o zeita traco-daca, venerata in special la Edonii din Tracia, populatie ce se gaseste intre raurile Struma si Mesta, la sud de Sofia.

Ei se intindeau in antichitate pana pe Vardar (Axios), dar odata cu expansiunea macedonenilor, au fost impinsi spre est, in Tracia.

Strabon descrie cultul zeitei Cotis ca apropiat de cel al zeitei Bendis. El spune ca Edonii cantau la niste instrumente ce scoteau anumite sunete ciudate, sub forma de tunete, provocate de niste tobe mari, probabil, sunet combinat cu acordul unor corzi frenetice, ritual muzical asemanator ritualului dedicat zeului Sabazius (Dionis). Acest cult mai era adorat si in perioada clasica ateniana , unde preotii ce participau la acest ritual se numeau baptai deoarece “botezau” de fiecare data participantii, purificandu-le sufletele.

Se spune ca ei intonau cu voce tare, in cor, aceste cuvinte:

“Am fugit de rau, am gasit binele”

Cultul ei mai poate fi asemanat cu cel al zeitei Attis si al Cybelei. Festivalul edonian dedicat zeitei Cotis se numea Cotyttia, ce se spune ca era un ritual orgiastic nocturn, cu puternice conotatii obscene.

Daca e sa dam crezare acestor afirmatii de mai sus, inseamna ca avem de-a face cu puternice influente osirice, prin elenism, mai exact prin Dionis/Sabazius.

Sorin Paliga este de parere canumele zeitei Cotis este inrudit cu numele plantei cotiata “iarba tare” (tritticum repens), cuvant ce deriva de la radacina ciot, de origine traca.

Articol scris de Kogaion

Meryem Ana’ nın “Tanrı’nın Annesi” kabul edilmesi, Efes Konsülü ile (431) uzun tartışmalar sonucu iledir. Bu tarihte Efes’ te, Kybele-Atemis- Mitra kültüne inananların baskısı ile zorla Hıristiyanlığa intikal ettirilmiştir.
İsa zamanında böyle bir şeyin kabul edilmesi Museviliğe göre şirktir.
Rabbi (öğretmen) olan İsa’ nın iyi bir Yahudi olarak, böyle birşey söylemesi mümkün değildir.

325′te İznik Konsili’nde yaşandı. Arianizm, Nasturizm ve Monofizm mezhep olarak Roma’dan ayrı yol izlemeye başladı. Ama henüz afaroz olmadığından tam kopma olmamıştır.
384′te İstanbul’da toplanan konsül Rahip Makadenius ve taraftarlarını ‘aforoz’ etmiş,
431′de Nesterius yani Nasturiler kabule karşı çıkmış olup, hemen orada afaroz edilmiş,
451′de Kadıköy konsili Mısırlı Kıptilerin benimsediği Monofizist akım mensupları afaroz edilmiş, ve İstanbul kilisesi de Roma’yla yollarını ayırmış,

Her konsülde Hıristiyanlıktan kopmalar çogalmış, o grubun inançları ve kitapları yok sayılmış ve yakılmış, hatta görüldükleri yerde öldürülme fetvasıda çıkmıştır.

Bugün bulunan, Yahuda İncili, Kumran Yazmaları, Meryem İncili, Thomas İncili vs. inciller bu yok sayılan Hıristiyanlara aittir

İlk Konsil

[This was originally cross-posted to the Hellenion_Chat and Neokoroi e-mail lists, and it just occurred to me that I didn't get around to posting this here, like I said that I would, because the latest FireFox update is total crap and keeps freezing up and the only way to fix it is to reboot this eight-years-old eMachines piece of poopie.]

For those not in-the-know, 20 November is the Transgender Day of Rememberance for TS/TG persons who have died as victims of hate-crimes and is an important day for TS/TG persons (MTF and FTM) and their friends, families, and allies.

As one whose gender has often been debated by others (even though it’s been clear to me for the last two decades and some [note: I consider my condition one of many states of being a "biological eunuch", in that I did not go through a normal boy puberty; but just for the record, I'm male-identified and making several hormonal and surgical "corrections"]), I plan to just simply offer libation, a small portion of lavender, and some music by Jayne County (who is awesome), recite my version of the Story of Hermaphroditos [note: to be posted later, currently in Iss#17 of He Epistole, ask me for a PDF or printed copy], and give this small prayer:

O Kybele, O Hermaphroditos,
Theoi of changed forms,
All I ask of you on this sacred day to those of similar fate
And of form andro-gynos by birth or by hand,
Is to seek justice for those whose time was cut short,
And to aid and protect those who remain in a world less understanding.
May Persephone and Adonis lead those passed safely to the Fields of Elysium,
May those who brought them to You too soon be dealt their due justice in this world,
And by Those Who Judge the Dead.
May Athene and Zeus guide the judges of the living to seek mercy on the deceased,
As you, O Andro-Gynos Theoi, give comfort and confidence to the living.

My rituals are usually very simple, consisting of little more than offering of food and/or herb and libation.

News Link

I’m rather torn about this (as I said in the comments on The Wild Hunt’s post:

On one hand, if it were bought by a private group of polytheists (or even just one insanely wealthy polytheist), then there would be a much higher chance of this temple being restored to its former purpose — and how amazing that would be! On the other, I’d rather see it turned into a state-run museum (or some such “historical site”) than have some fat-cat buy it up for the land and sell everything on it to other museums.

According to Hellenised Phygrian mythos, Kybele was originally born Agdistis, an hermaphroditic being who the Gods then castrated out of fear. The God/dess was then renamed Kybele, and was worshipped by some Greeks as Rhea, though Walter Burkert’s Greek Religion gives (pp177-179) reason to believe that the name “Kybele” was common in Hellenic worship and that “Meter Kybele” was often-enough worshipped alongside Dionysian worship. It’s also of note that Kybele’s son Attis is mentioned in the Orphic Hymns (Athanakasis translation: Orpheus to Mousaios; line40 “And I invoke Mother of the immortals, Attis and Men”, and line 20 of the same hymn references the Korybantes) and Orphic Hymn 27 “To the Mother of the Gods”, is clearly about Kybele (line 13: “all-taming, saviour of Phygria,…”; and line 14, “child of Ouranos,…”, Ouranos being the Hellenic God of the Sky, though Theoi.com relays the Phygrian Sky God counterpart in the Hellenic pantheon as being Zeus); the fact that the ancient Greeks worshipped Kybele is not a “might have”, “maybe”, or “if they did” matter, She very obviously was revered by them and Her cult was as thoroughly Hellenised as that of Adonis by the time of Homer.

In modern times, at least in the circles I’ve run in, Kybele seems most-revered by Pagans in Transgender/Transsexual, Intersexed, and “gender queer” (a uniquely modern Western take on the “third sex” concept) circles, most likely because of Her origin mythos stating that she was born Intersexed but then castrated to appear more typically “female” (thus the few genuinely Intersexed-born people I know feel a sense of relation, as such is typically the fate of Intersexed-born children), and the practise amongst Her order of priests, known as the Gallos, Galli or Gallai, to become voluntarily ceremonially castrated during an ecstatic rite and, by some sources, then adopted a “woman’s role” by taking on feminine dress and identity (thus securing Her reverence among many Transgendered, especially Trans Woman [Male-to-Female] pagans and polytheists).

The cult of Attis is an interesting one. On one hand, He’s technically the son of Kybele, in the mythos, but in a similar way that Aphrodite is the son of Oraunos: When the Gods castrated Agdistis, They cast off the male organs and from where it fell grew an almond tree. When the nuts ripened (hee hee), one was picked by the nymphe Nana and laid in Her bosom, where it was forgotten about. The almond then somehow burrowed into Her womb, and ta-daa! Attis was born! So perhaps then Kybele is technically His father, biologically speaking? Nana then abandoned the child and He was cared for by a billy goat (or adopted by Agdistis, now renamed Kybele, depending on the version), and later Kybele fell in love with the long-haired youth, who was driven mad by Kybele’s True Form, inspiring Attis to castrate and emasculate himself. Attis was then taken on as Her lover and servant, and according to some existing mythos, when Attis died, His body became the evergreen pine.