sdi

Δαναός. ἁγνόν τ᾽ Ἀπόλλω, φυγάδ᾽ ἀπ᾽ οὐρανοῦ θεόν.
Χορός. εἰδὼς ἂν αἶσαν τήνδε συγγνοίη βροτοῖς.
Δαναός. συγγνοῖτο δῆτα καὶ παρασταίη πρόφρων.

Danaos. Pray also to holy Apollo, a god exiled from heaven.
Daughters. Knowing our lot, he may well pity us mortals.
Danaos. May he indeed pity us and so be kindly disposed to us.

(Aiskhulos, The Suppliants 214–6, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly. "Danaos" means "ancient," by the way, a fitting name for the Perseus myth's equivalent of Atum.)

Phaedrus. You never cross the border, do you, Socrates? In fact, it seems to me you never even leave the city walls!

Socrates. I beg your pardon, my friend, but I love to learn and it is the people of the city that are my teachers: I learn nothing from the trees or open country.

(Plato, Phaedrus 230D)

If you watch the skies, what do you see? The Sun and Moon, of course, stand apart from all others; among the stars, Venus, Jupiter, and Sirius; but what else? Here I must take issue with Socrates, since I have, alas, been a city kid most of my life, and the city is where lovely Nut goes to die (in more ways than one). I remember the summer when I moved out to the country and could, for the first time in my life, really see the sky; and what amazed me the most was that mighty river, the Milky Way, meandering across Heaven. I stood outside for hours merely gazing at it, for nothing material, save the Moon Herself, can compete in beauty and wonder...

...but we'll get to that. Let me first say that our old friend Apuleius tells us (in the Golden Ass XI) that there were three sets mysteries of Isis and Osiris: the first is the mysteries of Isis, the second is the mysteries of Osiris, and the third is not named. He also tells us that the first two mysteries are more-or-less the same. Diodorus tells us (in the Library of History I xcvi) that the mysteries of Isis are identical to the mysteries of Eleusis (read Isis and Osiris §§12–20 followed by the Homeric Hymn to Demeter if you'd like to see this for yourself), that the mysteries of Osiris are identical to the mysteries of Dionysus, and of the third mystery he makes no reference whatsoever. (Very mysterious!) From this, I speculate that the vast bulk of this myth cycle—where Osiris is killed, Isis wanders, collects his pieces, and resurrects him—covers the pageant of both the mysteries of Isis and Osiris. The difference, I think, is that they're told from different perspectives: in the former, the initiate follows Isis in her wanderings; in the latter, the initiate follows Osiris in his death, dismemberment, reconstruction, and resurrection. The third mystery, then, I presume to be what remains: the initiate follows the contending between, and eventual triumph of, Horus over Set.

The myth cycle that forms the mysteries of Isis and Osiris is too lengthy to take in a single stretch, though, so I'm going to break it into pieces. Today, we'll start with the murder of Osiris.

[1–8, 16–17, 45. Heaven and Earth give birth to Osiris, Set, Isis, and Nephthys. Osiris and Isis give birth to the brothers Horus. Osiris and Nephthys give birth to Anubis.]

Stepping back for a moment, I have identified the inhabitants of Duat with the planets. But what relevance is this? Heaven and Earth are conjoined; the planets—the gods!—are not merely without you, they are also within: Osiris, Set, Isis, Nephthys, the brothers Horus, and Anubis all dance in both sky and soul. So while I have already identified these beings in macrocosm, it would be worthwhile to pause for a moment and identify them in microcosm, too, before we continue with the myth.

The second generation of gods are, I think, the inherent capacities of the soul: those capacities that the soul is inherently "born" with. Osiris and Isis, being bright, calm, and rising relatively high in the sky, are those higher capacities of the soul: in Platonic terms, they are the tendency towards the good, the serene intuition of the higher mind, the well-bred horse hitched to the chariot in the Phaedrus. Nephthys and Set, being dim, frenetic, and never rising far above the horizon, are those baser capacities of the soul: the tendencies towards the "sensible world," the relentless chatter of the lower mind, the wild horse hitched to the chariot. The morning stars are the beginning of these tendencies, while the evening stars are their end: so Osiris is the innocent, pristine tendency towards good, while Isis is the wise, experienced tendency towards good; Nephthys is innocent tendency away from good, while Set is the wilful tendency away from good. Hence, Osiris is generous and beautiful, but he is also trouble since he is foolish and trusting. Isis is wise, but harsh and severe. Nephthys isn't terrible, since she doesn't know better: enjoyment and appreciation of the material world isn't evil, it just isn't as good as it could be. Set, though, is something of a wanton rejection of the good, and this is why the myth considers him sterile: there is no future to be found there.

The third generation of gods are, then, the cultivated capacities of the soul: those capacities that develop as the soul "grows its wings." I'm sure you can guess as what these are by examining their parents' natures, but we'll investigate them more deeply when we get further in the myth.

These points correspond to Persephone (Osiris) being born of Zeus and Demeter (Heaven and Earth, though Demeter also takes on the role of Isis); and of Psyche (gentle Osiris in the first half of the myth, determined Isis in the second) and her sisters (Nephthys and Set) being born of "a king and queen" (also Heaven and Earth). Psyche's sisters running off to get married right away shows their rejection (either innocent or wilful) of the good; Psyche, however, lingers and so retains more of that memory of the Beauty to sustain her, slowing and limiting (but not, alas, preventing) her descent.

9. [§13] While Isis watches over Set, Osiris leaves Heaven and teaches the Egyptians the arts of civilization.

Macrocosmically, Venus heliacally rises in the east. Presumably, Mercury will heliacally rise and set several times while Venus remains in the east, and at some point Osiris will unwittingly sleep with Nephthys (e.g. Venus and Mercury go conjunct as morning stars).

One of the things I think I misunderstood in my original perusal of Plotinus and the myths is that souls do not merely descend from Heaven once, but twice! The soul must fall from Heaven to Duat, and again from Duat to Earth. (Being born twice, one must also die twice, which is why Plutarch speaks of the first death and the second death. Perhaps this is why initiates are called "twice-born:" the initiation awakens them to this fact.) Persephone being kidnapped by Hades is her first birth, and eating the pomegranate is her second birth. Psyche being carried by Zephyr into the beautiful valley is her first birth, and throwing herself into the river is her second. In both cases, there is no harm done in the first birth: Persephone can go home whenever she likes, and Psyche is comfortably married and carrying a divinity in her womb; it is only after the second that their trials and travails begin. In the same way, Osiris/Set/Isis/Nephthys being born is their first birth, and in the same way, there is no harm done yet; they are no longer in their pristine state, but neither are they degraded in the material world. So I do not think Osiris merely coming to Egypt is his "fall:" Egypt must be representative something else.

As I've mentioned, I think Heaven is the macrocosm, and Earth is the microcosm. The planets wandering in Heaven is the macrocosmic Duat, and so I think Osiris ruling in Egypt, here, is the microcosmic Duat. Osiris coming to Egypt is not the morning star falling to Earth, it is the reflection of Osiris rising in the morning sky within you. And consider, to the Egyptians, Egypt was "home:" it is the good place that they wish to be. We will soon see other Earthly locations, each with their Heavenly analogues: foreign lands (Byblos in this myth, Eleusis in the Demeter myth, etc.) are equivalent to a star being beneath the horizon in the sky and of the soul being "in exile," as Empedocles says:

τῶν καὶ ἐγὼ νῦν εἰμι, φυγὰς θεόθεν καὶ ἀλήτης,
νείκει μαινομένῳ πίσυνος.

I too am now one of these, an exile from the gods and a wanderer,
trusting in mad strife.

There is also the Nile itself (or, in Hesiod, the Styx), which is the Milky Way in the sky, and the bridge by which souls descend from their higher state to their lower one (cf. Plato, Republic X; Porphyry on the Cave of the Nymphs; Sallustius on the Gods and the World IV; Macrobius on the Dream of Scipio I xii), which we shall see shortly. The Milky Way intersects the ecliptic in two places, representing the places where Earth and Duat meet: Tanis in the east, where Osiris leaves Egypt, is the intersection by which souls descend (which Porphyry calls "the gate of gods"), while Buto in the west, where Osiris returns to Egypt, is the intersection by which souls ascend (which Porphyry calls "the gate of men").

What of Osiris teaching the Egyptians the arts of civilization? This is saying that Osiris—as I have said, the upward tendency of the soul, that vague recollection of the good—is what separates us from the beasts, who only possess the Nephthys/Set or "base" capacities of the soul.

10. Upon his return, Set secretly measures him and constructs a beautifully-ornamented box sized to fit him exactly.

Macrocosmically, Mercury heliacally rises in the west while Venus remains in the east.

The box is, of course, the physical body that the soul "fits into." The soul is said to be enticed by sensual pleasure to descend into the material world, so the box is said to be beautifully ornamented so that simple, starry-eyed Osiris is lured into it.

This corresponds to Hades offering pomegranate seeds to Persephone, and to Psyche's wicked sisters filling her with doubt.

11. On 17 Hathor, Set invites Osiris, Queen Aso of Ethiopia, and seventy-two conspirators to a party.

12. Set and the conspirators trick Osiris into the box, nail it shut, seal it with molten lead, and push it into the Nile, after which it floats downriver, reaching the sea near Tanis.

Simple, trusting Osiris is tricked into sensual desire and thus descends into corporeality, leaving Egypt and going into exile. We see the microcosmic form in the myth directly; in the macrocosmic form, this is Venus going conjunct the Sun while, at the same time, the Sun is going conjunct the Milky Way; at heliacal rising, this looks like Venus "falling into" the Milky Way and then disappearing. This presently happens around the winter solstice, but it varies slowly over time due to the precession of the equinoxes; it would have occurred around 17 Hathor (in late Autumn) during the Hellenistic era.

These points correspond to Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds and no longer being allowed to return home; and to Psyche gazing upon Cupid, Cupid fleeing, and Psyche trying to drown herself in a river.

13. [§14] Pan and the satyrs learn of Osiris's death and tell Isis.

14. Isis grieves and wanders in search of Osiris.

Macrocosmically, Venus is no longer conjunct the Sun and begins to rise in the west, seemingly "stepping out" of the Milky Way.

Porphyry tells us in his Sentences [VIII] that "what Nature has bound, Nature must unbind, and what the soul has bound, the soul must unbind." Osiris falling for the box is representative of the second of these. But Pan and his satyrs represent Nature and its subordinate generative powers; their notifying Isis therefore represents Nature binding the soul to itself. That is, the soul is now subject to Nature's law: which we may call Ma'at, Necessity, or karma.

These points correspond to Hekate and Helios hearing Persephone's scream, telling Demeter what happened and trying to comfort her, her quitting Olympus in a rage, and her wandering in search of Persephone; and to Psyche coming to shore near Pan, Pan comforting her, and her wandering in search of Cupid. It is noteworthy that Helios/Pan counsel Demeter/Psyche to accept the situation and behave piously: they are telling the soul how to unbind itself. This is the easy part; the problem is that the soul reels in shock from its descent, and it will take a long time—many lives—before it can finally pull itself together enough to follow their advice. By the time this finally occurs, the soul has racked up so much karma that it must now pay it back before Nature, too, will unbind it.

Apuleius tells us (in the Apology §§53–56) that initiates were given talismans from the mysteries in which they were initiated, which were kept in linen and placed on their home altar to pray and meditate over. These are not, as far as I know, identified anywhere, but I wonder if the talisman of the mystery of Isis was an icon of the tyet, or "knot of Isis," representing the binding of the soul to the law of Nature:

𓎬

As always, in pondering the myth I find myself wondering about many adjacent things:

• The title of this post is, of course, from Holly Golightly's song in the film Breakfast at Tiffany's. I couldn't help myself: while thinking of the Milky Way, it occurred to me that the song can easily describe the incarnate soul finally coming to acceptance of Necessity in its desire to return to Duat:

  Moon River, wider than a mile,
  I'm crossing you in style some day.
  Oh, dream-maker, you heart-breaker,
  Wherever you're going, I'm going your way!

  Two drifters, off to see the world—
  There's such a lot of world to see!
  We're after the same rainbow's end
  Waiting 'round the bend:
  My huckleberry friend,
  Moon River, and me.

  The Milky Way is no longer a curse, but a teacher and guide. Psyche ceases her wandering and submits herself to Venus.

• Empedocles is well-known for his four elements, but I wonder if we've been misinterpreting him all these many centuries. What he actually said was,

  τέσσαρα γὰρ πάντων ῥιζώματα πρῶτον ἄκουε·
  Ζεὺς ἀργὴς Ἥρη τε φερέσβιος ἠδ' Ἀιδωνεύς,
  Νῆστις θ' ἣ δακρύοις τέγγει κρούνωμα βρότειον.
  
  First, hear of the four roots of all things:
  gleaming Zeus and life-bringing Hera and Aidoneus
  and Nestis, who moistens with tears the springs of mortals.

  I'm of half a mind to see these four, not as elemental forces in the Aristotelian sense, but as literally referring to Osiris (that brightest star of Heaven), Isis (the mother of the gods and resurrector of Osiris), Set, and Nephthys (who grieves with Isis). Come to think of it, "Nestis" and "Nephthys" sound suspiciously similar: νῆστις ["fasting, hungry"] is universally assumed to be an epithet, but what if it is a (punning) transliteration?

• Despite much effort, nobody has managed to figure out what creature the "Set animal" depicted in Egyptian hieroglyphics and art represents:

  𓃩
  ...woof woof?

  If, as I suggest, Nephthys/Set represent the "bestial" capacity of the soul, one wonders if it's not supposed to represent any actual animal at all, but rather some sort of "generic" or "idealized" beast? Perhaps a composite of a Nephthys dog body (she is the mother of Anubis, after all) and a Set (...aardvark?) head?

• One of the highlighted arts that Osiris teaches the Egyptians is to refrain from cannibalism. The Egyptian priests were said to be vegetarian, as were Pythagoras (who learned from them) and Empedocles (who learned from Pythagoras and specifically links meat-eating to cannibalism and the descent of souls). Porphyry wrote a lengthy treatise (On Abstinence from Eating Animals) in defense of vegetarianism for those who aspire to philosophy, and Apuleius tells us that prospective initiates were required to fast from meat prior to their initiations. All this suggests to me that the myth is referencing the karmic implications of meat-eating.

• I skipped over Queen Aso, above. Trying to figure out what she represents led me down quite a bit of a rabbit-hole.

  In the Perseus myth (cf. Pseudo-Apollonius, the Library II iv), Cassiopeia is the Queen of Ethiopia. I am unable to find an etymology for Cassiopeia anywhere, though it bears at least slight resemblence to Aso ("k-ASO-peia"). The constellation bearing her name straddles the Milky Way and is not far from "the gate of the gods," so presumably she is something of an onlooker to Osiris's fall.

  But that's not all. Cassiopeia is the mother of Andromeda, who is chained to a rock in the same way that Isis is bound to Nature, and whose name (Ἀνδρομέδα=ἀνδρός-μέδω "I protect my husband") is closely related to the role of Isis in our myth. Is Perseus Osiris? Nobody knows the etymology of Perseus, but it is interesting to note that the names Osiris and Perseus (and, indeed, Orpheus) are all pretty similar...

  I hadn't considered the Perseus myth to be yet-another-derivative of the Osiris myth, but at first glance, there seems to be a relationship. I haven't thought deeply about it yet, but it's another myth I'll need to spend more time on. Worse, this makes me realize that the myth of Jason and Medea is related, too: the "Meda" of Andromeda is closely related to "Medea," and of course Isis and Medea are both sorceresses who use magic to rescue their husbands, both are exiled from their homelands, both have a relationship with somebody who is cut into many pieces and strewn about, both murder two young brothers, etc. etc., so toss yet another myth on the pile.

  All this is to say that I apologize for not having a nice, tidy answer to the question of Queen Aso and the 72 conspirators handy: if I chased the rabbit down that rabbit-hole, I would be as lost and mad as poor Alice. I will have to tackle it some other time, when I am better-prepared.

• It is interesting that Pan features at the exact same point in the exact same capacity in both Isis and Osiris and Cupid and Psyche. To my mind, this is too exact a parallel to be a coincidence, and an argument that Apuleius (who invented the Cupid and Psyche myth) was either an initiate of Isis himself, or an initiate of Demeter and an avid reader of Plutarch, or both.

• I had somehow missed it my first few times through Hesiod, but ll. 775–806 of the Theogony describe exactly the same phenomenon that the poem of Empedocles (and, of course, this myth) does: if any god commits perjury, then that god is forced to traverse the Styx (that is, descend into the material world), sleeping as if in a heavy trance for a year, and then forced to exile and hard labor for nine years, only after each of these being able to rejoin the gods. Indeed, this is why the gods swear by the Styx in the Iliad, Odyssey, and Homeric Hymns: for fear of being forced into exile themselves.

• Tanis was situated on the Tanitic branch of the Nile, while Buto was situated between the Sebennytic and Bolbitine branches of the Nile. The Tanitic branch and the Sebennytic branches silted up sometime between AD 150 (cf. Ptolemy, Geography) and AD 600 (cf. George of Cyprus, Description of the Roman World), but the Bolbitine branch still exists (now called the Rosetta). If we treat the world as symbolic of spiritual truths, as Sallustius bids us, and if Tanis and Buto have the meanings I've ascribed to them above, then the silting-up of Tanis seems to say that the old truths are closed and that no new revelations are coming into the world that way; while the half-silting-up of Buto seems to suggest that, while the mysteries are no longer a major avenue of return, the way back up through them is not yet completely closed to us...

A. Why can't people just be honest and decent?

B. Because, if they could, they would be angels rather than people.

A little conversation that came up lately where I realized my opinions have hardened further against the mainstream...

A. Wait, that's not what Plato says!

@sdi. Yeah, but I just don't like Plato very much. He makes me angry.

A. But how are you so into Neoplatonism, then?

@sdi. Okay, this is controversial but I'm just going to go ahead and say it: I don't think Plotinus was a Platonist. Yeah, yeah, everyone says he was; but in my opinion, Plotinus was something else entirely. To be a Platonist, you have to take up and teach the positions of Plato, but Plotinus didn't do this: he taught his own experiences and reasoning, and willfully read contortions into Plato in order to shore it up. He used Plato as a resource rather than a source. I'll accept that Porphyry was a Platonist, and Proclus super definitely was a Platonist, but I think Plotinus was more like a Socrates than either of them: just doing his own weird thing.

The obvious counterexample to my thesis is that whole Platonopolis business [Life of Plotinus XII]. I'm honestly not sure what to make of that, since it's so out of character for our philosopher (at least, per his writings). It seems to me that his dæmon did well to keep it from coming off, though; I can't see how it could possibly have worked out well for him.

(It didn't come up in the conversation, but I think it is similar with Neopythagoreanism: Plotinus' mystical take on number is so at odds with the likes of Nicomachus or Pseudo-Iamblichus that it seems to me to be impossible to reconcile.)

I woke up with the following dialogue still ringing in my ears:

A. Is there a God?

B. Yes.

A. Are there gods and goddesses?

B. Yes.

A. But the monotheists and polytheists can't both be right: that would be a paradox.

B. Yes, but divinity laughs at our categories and models. It invites us to participate.

A. That doesn't make sense.

B. Divinity is characterized by unity, while matter is characterized by division. Categorization is inherently separatory, it divides in order to understand. It is a method well suited to understanding matter, because matter can be divided indefinitely; but it is an inappropriate method for understanding divinity, because divinity is indivisible. Therefore, set aside your categories, and play together.