sdi

☤

Happy Hermes-Day! Can we talk about Teiresias for a second? That whole thing with the snakes [item 3] has been bothering me.

So if you're recall, one day blind Teiresias was walking on Mount Kullene (the birthplace of Hermes), stumbled across two snakes entwined in sex, and he accidentally crushes one or both of them with his staff. Hera was infuriated at this and changed Teiresias into a woman. Teiresias becomes a priestess of Hera. At some point, Apollo advises Teiresias that if he ever happens upon the same situation to crush one or the other of the snakes with his staff; in the eighth year of being a woman, Teiresias does and is restored to his original form.

This is clearly a story about reincarnation in order to learn a particular lesson: Teiresias is each of us, Teiresias's sex-change is reincarnating into different bodies, Hera is "mother Earth" and becoming her priestess is to devote oneself to learning her lessons; Apollo is the mysteries and his advice is the mystery teachings; eight years is a "great year" representing one's greater life (Apollodoros, Library III iv §2).

All that is very straightforward, I think; the only question is, what is the lesson to be learned? It has something to do with polarity, certainly, which already puts me at a disadvantage since I'm of a monistic bent and have a difficult time making sense of dualities; but it is further complicated by the fact that almost every version of the story we possess tells it differently. I tend to trust Apollodoros more than the others, but his version is itself ambiguous, so we're on our own.

Thinking about this, though, reminded me of the Ra Material; if you're not familiar with it, it's one of the major channeled texts of the New Age movement. (Since it's a channeled text, we're already in super-grain-of-salt-territory, but bear with me.) "Ra" states that there are seven degrees of consciousness, and that each degree of consciousness has a lesson to learn in order for beings of that consciousness to move to the next degree of consciousness. First degree beings (like minerals) are static and inanimate, and their lesson is to learn to move and grow. Second degree beings (like plants and animals) are animate but unselfconscious, and their lesson is to learn individuality. We humans are third degree beings, and our lesson is to learn to relate the individual to the all. "Ra" says that there are two polarities of relating to the all: the positive pole of giving to others or compassion, and the negative pole of taking from others or selfishness; since all is one, both the love of others and the love of self are ways of loving the all, and so either way can carry one upwards, but the crucial point is to develop enough reflective capacity and will to be capable of actively choosing a path.

Of course, all models are wrong, but some are useful: true or not, "Ra's" model certainly has the merit of making sense of the snakes. The female snake is the negative pole (and let me stress that I'm not denouncing women, I am referring strictly to the inward-attracting direction of any negative pole); the male snake is the positive pole (as outward-emitting); Teiresias is doomed to reincarnation by being incapable of choosing a path (his first killing is accidental); over a great year he studies the lessons of earth, guided by the mysteries; finally, he is freed from reincarnation by choosing a path (his second killing is willed). Perhaps it even makes sense of why so many variants of the story are recorded: a "pure" version of the story, like the "Ra" material, stresses the free will of the individual to choose as they please; however, "moralistic" versions of the story might urge the individual to prefer one or the other polarity. (And I can certainly sympathize with this: I would, myself, much rather hasten to the light in love than sound the darkness in isolation.)

Penises (as emblematic of male sexuality) are really all over the mysteries, from the phalluses in the temples of Osiris to the thursoi of Dionusos. (Hell, if you haven't read De Dea Syria, there's a veritable boatload of penises in there for you.) I've always thought that's pretty weird to say the least, but if it's an injunction towards the positive pole, that would at least make some sense of it.

It is interesting to me that Hermes picked up the image of the story as his symbol, carrying always the kerukeion with it's two snakes coiling around Teiresias's cornel-wood staff, topped by the wings which the development of will grants. It is interesting that this became Hermes's symbol even though Athena also figures prominently in the Teiresias myth; we see just the opposite in the Perseus myth, where Perseus is guided by both gods, but only Athena took her symbol—the head of Medousa affixed to a shield—from there.

τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια:
ξεῖν’, ἦ τοι μὲν ὄνειροι ἀμήχανοι ἀκριτόμυθοι
γίγνοντ’, οὐδέ τι πάντα τελείεται ἀνθρώποισι.
δοιαὶ γάρ τε πύλαι ἀμενηνῶν εἰσὶν ὀνείρων:
αἱ μὲν γὰρ κεράεσσι τετεύχαται, αἱ δ’ ἐλέφαντι:
τῶν οἳ μέν κ’ ἔλθωσι διὰ πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος,
οἵ ῥ’ ἐλεφαίρονται, ἔπε’ ἀκράαντα φέροντες:
οἱ δὲ διὰ ξεστῶν κεράων ἔλθωσι θύραζε,
οἵ ῥ’ ἔτυμα κραίνουσι, βροτῶν ὅτε κέν τις ἴδηται.
ἀλλ’ ἐμοὶ οὐκ ἐντεῦθεν ὀΐομαι αἰνὸν ὄνειρον
ἐλθέμεν: ἦ κ’ ἀσπαστὸν ἐμοὶ καὶ παιδὶ γένοιτο.

And then prudent Penelopeia said to him,
“Stranger, dreams are wayward and mysterious
things, and they don't all come true,
since they stray through not one gate, but two:
one made of horn and the other of ivory.
Those that come through the carved ivory
are wily and carry false messages,
but those that come out of the polished horn
come true whenever one might see them.
But I doubt my weird dream came from there;
oh, it would've been so welcome to me and my son...”

(Homer, Odyssey XIX 559–69, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly. There's some cute alliteration in the original: elephantos “ivory” with elephairontai “wily,” and keraon “horn” with [etuma] krainousi “come [true].”)

Something in the air of late—may your dreams issue through the gate of horn...

Well, shit. I think I finally figured it out.

It's well-known that the myth of Perseus is illustrated in the night sky:

There's Perseus holding Medousa's head (the demon star Algol from Arabic ra's al-ghul "head of the ogre"), rushing to save Andromeda, chained to a rock, from the sea monster Ketus (the ecliptic nicely acting as the surface of the sea), while Kepheus and Kassiopeia look on.

This is often said to be the only complete mytheme still illustrated in the constellations as we know them today, but I just realized that this is mistaken: there's another one, right next to it:

Nut is the sky. Geb is the earth, and his penis is the axis the earth turns around. Their children are the constellations, and Ra prevents her from giving birth because the Sun hides the constellations from view: we can only see them at night. Osiris is the one we call Orion, the great man in the sky, and the shape of Orion is, I presume, the reason why the Egyptians drew figures in their peculiar profile. The Nile is the Milky Way, of course, and there we see Isis in her boat, which we call by its Greek name, the Argo, still sailing the Nile searching for her husband. Osiris's penis is highlighted in the myth because it's the most notable feature of his constellation, though we call it Orion's sword. (Perhaps this is a euphemism, though; in Greek, the word for sword, ἄορ, literally means "hanging thing.") Next to Osiris, we see the Apis bull, though we call it by its Latin name, Taurus. The children of the constellations are, of course, the stars: Horos is Sirius, the brightest star of heaven, literally following in his father's footsteps; while Anoubis is Canopus, the second-brightest, attending to Isis in her boat.

Thus the theogony, as I said, is exoteric because everyone can look up at the sky and see the constellations; but the Mysteries are esoteric because only the initiated can look up at the sky and understand what the constellations mean.

There is a lot of overlap between the Mysteries and the Epic Cycle:

#	Epic Cycle	Horos	Orestes
1	Kupria	Seth holds a feast.	The wedding of Peleus and Thetis.
2	Kupria	Seth kills Osiris, seals him in a box, and drops the box in the Nile.	The judgement of Paris.
3	Kupria	The box lands at Bublos. A heather stalk grows around the box. Malkander takes the heather stalk into his house.	The rape of Helene.
4	Kupria	Isis wanders. Nephthus exposes Anoubis. Isis finds Anoubis and takes him as her attendant.	Gathering of the armies. Agamemnon sacrifices Iphegenia, but Artemis replaces her with a deer, makes her immortal, and takes her as her attendant.
5		Isis tracks Osiris to Bublos, sits by a spring, and weeps. Astarte invites her into her house.	[cf. 10]
6	Kupria	Isis kills Astarte's youngest son.	Failed first war on Troia. Troilos dies.
7	Ilias	Isis takes Diktus as her attendant.	Akhilleus commits to dying at Troia.
8		Isis recovers Osiris.	[cf. 11]
9	Aithopis	Isis kills Diktus for his curiosity.	Paris kills Akhilleus.
10	Ilias Mikra	[cf. 5]	Troian horse.
11	Iliou Persis	[cf. 8]	Troia sacked. Menelaus recovers Helene.
12	Nostoi	Isis returns to Egypt. Seth divides Osiris into fourteen pieces. A fish eats the penis. Isis recovers the pieces and reassembles Osiris.	The Akhaians are scattered but eventually return home, except Aias (who dies at sea), Menelaus and Odusseus (who are lost at sea), and Agamemnon (who is assassinated by Aigisthos and Klutaimnestra).
13	Odusseia	Isis draws Osiris's essence from his corpse and gives birth to Horos. When Horos grows up, Osiris trains him from Duat. Horos beheads Isis, is judged by the gods, defeats Seth, and becomes king.	Orestes flees into exile. When Orestes grows up, the Puthia tells him to avenge his father. Orestes kills Aigisthos and Klutaimnestra, is chased by the Erinues, is judged by Athena, and becomes king.

(I have omitted the Telegoneia as it concerns Odusseus and not Orestes, who is a different hero.)

If my associations are correct, then Osiris=Helene, Isis=the Akhaian host (e.g. those oathbound to Menelaus, notably not including Akhilleus who was too young to woo Helene), Seth=Eris, Anoubis=Iphegenia, Bublos=Troia, Astarte's unnamed son=Troilos (and the first Troian war generally), Diktus=Akhilleus (and the second Troian war generally), Horos=Orestes, Osiris as a jackal=the Puthia, Seth as a red bull=Aigisthos, the council of gods=the Athenian jury.

The only difficulty, really, is that it is Osiris that is divided up upon his return to Egypt and not Isis, whereas it is the Akhaians who are divided up on their return to Akhaia (and not Helene). This is a really significant symbolic difference and is necessary for the two narratives to work. From the pattern in the myth, Agamemnon should presumably have to be Osiris's penis, which I guess shouldn't be too surprising, since anybody who's read the Iliad can tell you he's a dick.

Despite that problem, though, the stories are so close there must be something to it. I still don't have a convincing thesis for what's going on here; I'm presently wondering if the version of the Horos-myth we have is, in fact, late and Syrian (presumably the oldest versions of the Horos-myth don't involve Bublos)—in which case it could have been influenced from both sides of the Mediterranean. I'm going to need to go over the Pyramid Texts with more care, I think...

More translation practice! I'm getting a little faster: this batch was twenty lines a day! I find, as I read Homer in Greek, that the stories' connection to philosophy and the Mysteries is far more obvious than it is in translation, as so many of the words or phrases carry double meanings...

313

315

320

325

330

335

340

345

350

ὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντ’ ἔλασεν μέγα κῦμα κατ’ ἄκρης
δεινὸν ἐπεσσύμενον, περὶ δὲ σχεδίην ἐλέλιξε.
τῆλε δ’ ἀπὸ σχεδίης αὐτὸς πέσε, πηδάλιον δὲ
ἐκ χειρῶν προέηκε: μέσον δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἔαξεν
δεινὴ μισγομένων ἀνέμων ἐλθοῦσα θύελλα,
τηλοῦ δὲ σπεῖρον καὶ ἐπίκριον ἔμπεσε πόντῳ.
τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόβρυχα θῆκε πολὺν χρόνον, οὐδ’ ἐδυνάσθη
αἶψα μάλ’ ἀνσχεθέειν μεγάλου ὑπὸ κύματος ὁρμῆς:
εἵματα γάρ ῥ’ ἐβάρυνε, τά οἱ πόρε δῖα Καλυψώ.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή ῥ’ ἀνέδυ, στόματος δ’ ἐξέπτυσεν ἅλμην
πικρήν, ἥ οἱ πολλὴ ἀπὸ κρατὸς κελάρυζεν.
ἀλλ’ οὐδ’ ὣς σχεδίης ἐπελήθετο, τειρόμενός περ,
ἀλλὰ μεθορμηθεὶς ἐνὶ κύμασιν ἐλλάβετ’ αὐτῆς,
ἐν μέσσῃ δὲ καθῖζε τέλος θανάτου ἀλεείνων.
τὴν δ’ ἐφόρει μέγα κῦμα κατὰ ῥόον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ὀπωρινὸς Βορέης φορέῃσιν ἀκάνθας
ἂμ πεδίον, πυκιναὶ δὲ πρὸς ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται,
ὣς τὴν ἂμ πέλαγος ἄνεμοι φέρον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα:
ἄλλοτε μέν τε Νότος Βορέῃ προβάλεσκε φέρεσθαι,
ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτ’ Εὖρος Ζεφύρῳ εἴξασκε διώκειν.

τὸν δὲ ἴδεν Κάδμου θυγάτηρ, καλλίσφυρος Ἰνώ,
Λευκοθέη, ἣ πρὶν μὲν ἔην βροτὸς αὐδήεσσα,
νῦν δ’ ἁλὸς ἐν πελάγεσσι θεῶν ἒξ ἔμμορε τιμῆς.
ἥ ῥ’ Ὀδυσῆ’ ἐλέησεν ἀλώμενον, ἄλγε’ ἔχοντα,
αἰθυίῃ δ’ ἐικυῖα ποτῇ ἀνεδύσετο λίμνης,
ἷζε δ’ ἐπὶ σχεδίης πολυδέσμου εἶπέ τε μῦθον:

κάμμορε, τίπτε τοι ὧδε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων
ὠδύσατ’ ἐκπάγλως, ὅτι τοι κακὰ πολλὰ φυτεύει;
οὐ μὲν δή σε καταφθίσει μάλα περ μενεαίνων.
ἀλλὰ μάλ’ ὧδ’ ἔρξαι, δοκέεις δέ μοι οὐκ ἀπινύσσειν:
εἵματα ταῦτ’ ἀποδὺς σχεδίην ἀνέμοισι φέρεσθαι
κάλλιπ’, ἀτὰρ χείρεσσι νέων ἐπιμαίεο νόστου
γαίης Φαιήκων, ὅθι τοι μοῖρ’ ἐστὶν ἀλύξαι.
τῆ δέ, τόδε κρήδεμνον ὑπὸ στέρνοιο τανύσσαι
ἄμβροτον: οὐδέ τί τοι παθέειν δέος οὐδ’ ἀπολέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν χείρεσσιν ἐφάψεαι ἠπείροιο,
ἂψ ἀπολυσάμενος βαλέειν εἰς οἴνοπα πόντον
πολλὸν ἀπ’ ἠπείρου, αὐτὸς δ’ ἀπονόσφι τραπέσθαι.

ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασα θεὰ κρήδεμνον ἔδωκεν,
αὐτὴ δ’ ἂψ ἐς πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα
αἰθυίῃ ἐικυῖα: μέλαν δέ ἑ κῦμα κάλυψεν.

As he was talking to himself, a frightfully great wave drove down
rushing over him, and his raft whirled around.
He was thrown far from the raft, the rudder
yanked from his hands; and the mast shattered in the middle
from a terrible blast of the whirling winds,
the yard-arm and sail plunging deep into the sea.
A long time he was held under, and he wasn't able
to very quickly rise from under the rush of the mighty wave
since the clothes which Kalupso gave him weighed him down.*
Finally, at length he surfaced, his mouth spitting out bitter brine
which ran in many streams from his crown.
He didn't forget the raft in spite of his distress,
but rushed after it in the waves and held it to himself,
and he sat in the middle to hide from a deadly end,
as the great wave carried it here and there in the current.
Just like how, in late summer, Boreas* carries thistledown
along the plain, and clusters cling to each other,
in the same way the winds carried the raft here and there in the sea:
at once Notos* tossing it to Boreas to carry,
and again Euros* giving it up for Zephuros* to chase.

And then came the daughter of Kadmos, dainty-footed Ino,*
the White* Goddess, who used to be a mortal possessed of voice,*
but now, in the sea, receives her share of reverence given to its gods.
She pitied Odusseus in his wandering and the suffering he bore,
and she rose from the water like a seabird in flight,
alighted upon the raft of many fastenings, and said to him:

“You poor thing, why is Poseidaon Earth-Shaker so
very mad at you, that he causes you so much trouble?
Don't worry,* he won't kill you even though he really wants to.
But you seem sensible enough to me, so do as I say:
take off your clothes and abandon your raft* to be borne by the winds,
but, swimming with your hands,* try to get to
the land of the Phaiakians, where it is your fate to escape.
And here, wrap my immortal veil around your chest,
so that you may fear neither suffering nor death;
but when you've laid hands on the firm ground,
untie it and throw it back into the wine-like sea*
far from land, and turn yourself far away* from it.”

So speaking, the goddess gave him her veil,
and dove back into the surging sea
like a bird, and the dark swell covered her.

(Homer, Odyssey V 313–53, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

Notes:

The clothes which Kalupso gave him weighed him down: Kalupso ("one who covers") is sensual desire, and the clothes she gives Odusseus are the physical body (which enables sensual desire). Focusing on the body, of course, hampers the soul which wishes to return home.
Boreas: the frigid north wind.
Notos: the desiccating south wind.
Euros: the wet east wind.
Zephuros: the balmy west wind.
Ino: Ino is the daugher of Kadmos, sister of Semele, and aunt and nurse of Dionusos. She represents the Mysteries guiding the mature soul which, having already mastered the fear of death (e.g. Kirke) and sensual desire (e.g. Kalupso), is nonetheless still lost in the material world and doesn't know the way home.
White: representative of purity (as the Mysteries are meant to purify the soul) and simplicity (as the Mysteries are meant to unify the soul). See also I Ching 22:6 and the Tao Te Ching 67.
Possessed of voice: humans communicate to the ears with words, but gods communicate directly to the mind with concepts, a thing which is at once uncanny and completely natural when one experiences it.
Don't worry: μὲν δή, not really translatable but representing a continuation of the prior sentence's thought, so I have added this phrase to bridge the two sentences.
Take off your clothes and abandon your raft: the clothes represent the body of dense matter and the raft represents the imagination of subtle matter, and the advice of the Mysteries is to prioritize the spiritual over the material, to "store up your treasures in heaven."
Swimming with your hands: it is not enough to merely experience the Mysteries; material things passively grow on their own, but spiritual things only grow by making active effort.
Immortal veil: the veil represents the teachings of the Mystery schools and tying the veil around the chest is to hold them close to heart. I'm torn on whether this represents how the teachings act as a psychological life-preserver in the welter of life or whether it represents some more esoteric spiritual connection to the god which acts to buoy one upward; certainly my philosophical studies suggest the former, but my personal experiences suggest the latter.
Wine-like sea: οἴνοπα πόντον, literally "wine-faced sea" and usually taken as "dark in color," but the sea is a reference to life in the material world, which is as intoxicating and disorienting to the soul as wine is to the body.
Turn yourself far away from it: the Buddha taught that, just like a raft was good for crossing a river but pointless once one got to the other side, the Mysteries are for passing over and not for holding on to.

Βασιλεύς. τὸ πάνσοφον νῦν ὄνομα τοῦτό μοι φράσον.

King Pelasgos. Now, tell me his masterly-devised name.

(Aiskhulos, Suppliant Maidens 320, as translated by yours truly.)

ὣς ἄρα οἱ εἰπόντι ἐπέπτατο δεξιὸς ὄρνις,
κίρκος, Ἀπόλλωνος ταχὺς ἄγγελος: ἐν δὲ πόδεσσι
τίλλε πέλειαν ἔχων, κατὰ δὲ πτερὰ χεῦεν ἔραζε
μεσσηγὺς νηός τε καὶ αὐτοῦ Τηλεμάχοιο.

As he was saying so a bird flew towards him on the right,
a falcon, the swift messenger of Apollon; and with its feet
it plucked a pigeon it was holding, and feathers fell to the ground
between Telemakhos and his ship.

(Homer, Odyssey XV 525–8, as translated by yours truly. Emphasis mine, too.)

I can't believe I didn't notice this before now! In Greek, κίρκος kirkos means "falcon" or "hawk," obviously as suited to Apollon as it is to Horos. But this is the same word as Κίρκη Kirke, daughter of the Sun and initiator of Odusseus.

Recall how I have been tracing two categories of myths: the city myth, and the hero myths that are embedded within the city myth? I think they describe two different categories of time: the city myth is cyclical, while the hero myth is linear. The city myth therefore describes the world, but the hero myth describes one's experience within the world; and it must be noted that there are many heroes for a given city, each with different goals: some, like Ganumedes, are spirited away during the city's lifetime; some, like Aineias and Teiresias, leave the city before it is destroyed to found a new one; some, like Horos and Orestes and Alkmaion, avenge their father who was betrayed while away at the city; some, like Perseus and Odusseus, merely find their way home.

But let me take a moment to describe why I think the city-myth is cyclic. If we look at the royal line of Thebai from it's founding to it's destruction, we see these seven generations:

↓ Kadmos Founds Thebai. Given necklace of Harmonia. ↓	→	Oudaios Born from the earth. ↓
Poludoros ↓		Euerous ↓
Labdakos ↓		Teiresias Lives for seven generations. ↓
Laios ↓		↓
Oidipous ↓		↓
Seven Against Thebai ↓		↓
Epigone Laodamas killed. Thersandros's line continues on but leaves Thebai. The necklace is taken to Argos. ×		Leaves Thebai to found Haliartos. ↓

We see a hero found the city, and then seven generations later, his line peters out, but a new hero arises and leads a remnant of the city to found a new city as the old one is destroyed.

Now, compare this to the Troian royal line:

↓ Dardanos Founds Dardanos. ↓
Erikhthonios ↓
Tros
↙ Ilos Founds Troia, which mostly subsumes Darnados. ↓	↘ Assarakos ↓
Laomedon ↓	Kapus ↓
Priam ↓	Ankhises ↓
Hektor Zeus withdraws favor. Line ends. ×	Aineias Leaves Troia and rebuilds it after the Akhaians sack it. ↓

This is very similar: a city is founded, the primary line dies, but a secondary line spawns a hero who founds a new city after the destruction of the first, seven generations later.

We see that many of these cities come from previously founded cities: Thebai is founded because Kadmos is barred from returning home; Haliartos is founded because Thebai is destroyed; Dardanos is founded because of a catastrophic flood that destroyed Arkadia; Troia is refounded after it is burned to the ground.

I think these indicate world ages, after which the old world is destroyed in fire and flood and a new one begins, just like Plato's priest of Sais describes. I have mentioned that I wonder if the Horos-myth is a reaction to Atlantis; this would be a very natural result if Atlantis was the city of a prior age, just as Troia is the city of our age.

τὸ δ’ ἐν Σάει τῆς Ἀθηνᾶς [...] ἕδος ἐπιγραφὴν εἶχε τοιαύτην “ἐγώ εἰμι πᾶν τὸ γεγονὸς καὶ ὂν καὶ ἐσόμενον καὶ τὸν ἐμὸν πέπλον οὐδείς πω θνητὸς ἀπεκάλυψεν.”

The statue of Athena [=Neith] at Sais has the following inscription: “I am all that was and is and will be and no mortal has yet uncovered my dress.”

(Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris IX, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

Ah, but there was a mortal who uncovered Athena's dress (albeit accidentally): the great seer of Thebai, Teiresias. Many conflicting stories are told about him (her?), and I spent a few days trying to sort out his (their?) myth. Here is my best guess at a reconstruction, with a few observations:

Kadmos ("pre-eminent") is led to the spot which would become Thebai by a cow with a moon-shaped spot on it. The nearby spring is guarded by a dragon; Kadmos slays it and, on the advice of Athene, sows its teeth. The teeth grow into a host of warriors, and Kadmos throws stones into the group, which causes them to attack each other until there are only five left, who pledge allegiance to Kadmos. One of these five, Oudaios ("from the ground"), has a son named Euerous ("well-built"). Euerous marries the nymph Khariklo ("famous for her beauty"), who is a favorite attendant of Athena, and they have a son, Teiresias ("prophet"). [Apollodoros, Library III iv, vi.]
1. Euerous is only said to be "of the line" of Oudaios, but two considerations require Teiresias to be within two generations of him: first, he is blinded some time before Kadmos's grandson, Aktaion, is killed; second, Teiresias becomes seer to Kadmos, and so is at least partially contemporaneous with him.
2. Teiresias having one parent's line being literally sprung from the earth and the other being divine has the same crucial resonance with other heroes, but perhaps none more than Aineias, who's paternal grandfather was the brother of the founder of Troia (like how Oudaios was the close associate of the founder of Thebai), whose mother was Aphrodite (who, like Khariklo, is a divinity "famous for her beauty"), and who rescued those who could be from the sack of Troia.
One summer day, Athena, Khariklo, and young Teiresias are traveling through Mt. Helikon. Teiresias goes off to explore while Athena and Khariklo bathe in the spring of Hippokrene ("horse spring"). At some point, Teiresias comes back to the spring to get a drink, sees Athena naked, and is blinded for it by the law of Zeus. Athena is upset about this, but cannot override her father; so as to make amends to Khariklo, she gives Teiresias the gifts of prophecy, augury, long life, retaining his wits after death, and a magic staff of cornel-wood which would "guide his feet." [Kallimakhos on the Bath of Pallas; Apollodoros, Library III vi.]
1. The Hippokrene is also where the Muses bathed before giving Hesiod the gifts of an inspired voice and a staff of laurel-wood. [Hesiod, Theogony 1–35.] Both seem to me reminiscent of how initiates of Osiris were purified and given heather stalks, or initiates of Dionusos were purified and given thursoi.
2. The Bath of Pallas, which gives wisdom even as it inflicts punishment, is, of course, life in the material world, which is almost always treated as a purification or cleansing of the soul. (Indeed, Empedocles's famous poem on the topic, which I have used as the basis of my interpretation of the hero-myths, is called Purifications.)
3. Teiresias's blindness and gifts, of course, are exactly the point of spirituality: one loses the ability to engage in the material world but gains the ability to engage in the spiritual world both now and after they die.
4. Kallimakhos explicitly links this story to that of Aktaion. Both beheld their patron deity naked (Athena for Teiresias, Artemis for Aktaion), but Teiresias made good of evil, while Aktaion did not. I wonder if seeing one's patron naked is the point of no return in spirituality: after that, one must either cease to be mortal or cease to be—there is no longer a middle ground, and this is why Neith's statue says that no mortal has uncovered her dress.
5. There is an alternate version of the story (made famous by Ovid) where Teiresias was blinded when he settled a bet between Zeus and Hera, saying that sex is ten times better for women than men. I dismiss this one out of hand, because it is of a popular nature and because spiritual teachings are unitive rather than divisive.
While traveling through Mt. Kullene, Teiresias comes upon two serpents entwined in sex and crushes them with his staff. This so incenses Hera that she changes Teiresias into a woman. Teiresias becomes a priestess of Hera, marries, and has a daughter named Manto ("prophecy"). At some point, Apollo tells Teiresias that if she comes upon a pair of serpents, to repeat her prior action, which happens in the eighth year after the first time, and she is changed back into a man. [Phlegon, Book of Wonders; Apollodoros, Library III vi.]
1. Mt. Kullene is the birthplace of Hermes, and his symbol, the kerukeion, is two serpents entwined around a staff. Even today we call androgynous people mercurial. Teiresias being initiated by Hermes (if only figuratively) and Athena is shared by other hero myths, like Perseus and Odusseus.
2. Surviving sources disagree about which serpent or serpents are crushed in each event. Most sources are either ambiguous or say both each time (and this is what I've followed), though others say that the female was crushed each time, or the female the first time and the male the second time. Whatever the case, the sex-change is an obvious reference to reincarnation; the killing of the serpents inadvertently is a symbol of dying without purpose, but the killing of the serpents intentionally is a symbol of dying with purpose. This is the same as the myth of Perseus, where the Gorgons ("grim things") represent death; but while Stheno ("forceful") and Euruale ("far-ranging") are immortal, indicating that death cannot be overpowered or outrun, Medousa ("she rules") is mortal, indicating that death doesn't need to control us (and, indeed, can be put to good use—as Plotinos says, why should death trouble an immortal?). Therefore, Manto represents the realization of one's true self, the soul which animates the body, which only comes through experience.
3. The serpentine symbolism is also present in the Kadmos myth, where he kills the serpent of Ares, serves Ares for eight years, marries Ares's daughter Harmonia, and finally is transformed with his wife into a pair of serpents.
4. Archbishop Eustathios of Thessalonike, following an elegiac poet named Sostratos, tells an alternate version of the story in which Teiresias was born female and changed sexes six times before finally being turned into mouse (and presumably eaten by a weasel). I also dismiss this out of hand, because it is of a popular nature and is impossible to reconcile with both of the only reliable fixed points of the Teiresias's life: his rescue of Thebai and the necromantic ritual of Odusseus.
When the Seven attack Thebai, the Thebaians ask Teiresias how they should be victorious, and he advises that if Menoikeus ("strength of the house"), son of Kreon, willingly sacrifices himself to Ares, that the Thebaians would be victorious, which he does and they are. Ten years later, when the Epigone attack Thebai and king Laodamas ("tamer of the people") is killed by Alkmaion (general of the Argives), Teiresias advises the people to send a herald to negotiate with the enemy and secretly flee meanwhile, which they do. Apollo shoots him with an arrow as he drinks from the spring of Tilphoussa and he dies there, but the people continue on to found Haliartos (about fifteen miles from Thebai). Manto, however, is captured by the Argives and, since they had promised "the most beautiful of the spoils" to Apollo, send her to Delphi. She becomes a priestess of the god and he sends her to Colophon to found an oracle. There, she marries Rhakios ("rag"), and has a son by him, Mopsos, who is also a celebrated seer and the rival of Kalkhos in the Nostoi. [Pausanias, Descriptions of Greece VII iii, IX xviii, IX xxxiii; Apollodoros, Library III vi–vii, Epitome vi.]
1. Tilphoussa is the spring where Apollo first tried to institute his oracle, but the water nymph dissuaded him; after taking over the oracle at Delphi, he later returned and cursed the spring. [Homeric Hymn to Apollo 239–76, 375–87.]
2. I have a theory that the myth of the house of Kadmos represents the mysteries, just like the myth of the house of Atreus or the myth of the house of Atum. If that is so, then the reason why Teiresias participated in the seven generations of Thebai up to the epigone (Kadmos→Poludoros→Labdakos→Laios/Kreon→Oidipous→Polunikes/Eteokles/Ismene/Antigone→Laodamas/Thersandros) is because he participated in the mysteries and, having mastering these, he was able to, on the one hand, save the women and children of Thebai, and on the other, guide future heroes (e.g. Odusseus) on the way home.
3. Tilphoussa is on Mt. Tilphosium, which is right next to Mt. Helikon (which is where the Hippokrene was). There is something very Wizard of Oz about Teiresias's life ending where it "began."
4. That Teiresias ("prophet") dies but Manto ("prophecy") lives on to serve others is, of course, a common motif in spirituality and reminds me more of Plotinos than anyone.
5. Manto marrying Rhakios ("rag") certainly shows how the mystery teachings are valued in the world: that is to say, not at all, and I wonder to what degree we possess the likes of Plato today because of his homosexual pedophilia, or Plotinos because nobody knew what to make of him, or Apollodoros because the mysteries were hidden in silly stories that nobody took seriously. Mopsos became celebrated precisely because he recognized the hidden value of those rags, though.
While lost at sea, Odusseus travels to Haides and summons Teiresias, receiving advice on how to safely return home. [Homer, Odyssey X–XI.]

The reason why being a student is so great is that you can be wrong all you want and it's not a problem—you just fix the mistake, learn something new, and off you go. Today was the first day in a while that I felt like I was capable of thinking well and so I spent a bunch of time reading and thinking about Apollodoros's account of the Theban cycle, when I realized that the Horos myth does have an exile-and-return. In fact, it even has a city! It's Bublos that is the equivalent of Thebai and Troia.

But it isn't Horos that gets exiled, it's Osiris; Horos is only "exiled" in the sense that his seed is contained within Osiris. Osiris is thus sort of the entire Greek host; his box being accepted into Bublos is not so very different from the Troian horse, and his coming back in fourteen pieces is like how the Greek host was scattered to the far winds in their returns.

But this means Aineias isn't Horos. But it turns out I already knew our Horos: it's Orestes, son of Agamemnon. (Which I suppose should have been obvious, since Orestes never goes to Troia, murders his mother, and avenges his father.) We see the same character in the Theban cycle in the figure of Alkmaion, who also murders his mother to avenge his father, is chased by the Erinues, undergoes purifications, etc.

But there were many heroes at Troia (and, indeed, at Thebai). I haven't chased them all down, but the one who really stands out is Diktus, who almost leaves Bublos, but not quite; this one is Akhilleus, who was also nursed-but-not-really by a goddess by day and burned in a fire at night, and managed to survive most of the way through the war before succumbing to passion. (I'm sure he would have left Troia alive had Peleus not cried out upon seeing him burning!) And, while I'm not 100% sure of it, the most likely candidate for Aineias is actually old Teiresias, who led the Thebans away before the Epigone sacked the city, helping them to found a new one.

Anyway, I've a long way to go, but I think there's two takeaways from this. First, always treat your knowledge as provisional; there is always something to be learned by ditching your assumptions. Second, if I want to reconcile my myths, it won't do to simply have a list of point-by-point in the stories: they actually form a sort of tree, with the core stem following Osiris-Horos, the house of Atreus, and Europe's magical necklace, but with branches splaying off at various points depending on which hero we are talking about. This strengthens the hypothesis that the ancients knew there were many spiritual paths and tried to support them...

Happy Ares-day!

Since so many of you asked, and I’ve never tried my hand at translating a lengthy section, I figured I’d go ahead and give it the old college try... but yipes! this took forever, and, anticipating that, I went rather more quickly than usual (managing a dozen lines a day); so it’s probably a lot less precise than I usually strive for. Consider it a first draft!

103

105

110

161

176

180

185

190

195

200

256

260

265

270

275

280

285

290

295

300

305

309
310
313

315

320

325

330

335

340

345

350

τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων:
ἥρως ἀλλ’ ἄγε καὶ σὺ θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσιν
εὔχεο: καὶ δὲ σέ φασι Διὸς κούρης Ἀφροδίτης
ἐκγεγάμεν, κεῖνος δὲ χερείονος ἐκ θεοῦ ἐστίν:
ἣ μὲν γὰρ Διός ἐσθ’, ἣ δ’ ἐξ ἁλίοιο γέροντος.
ἀλλ’ ἰθὺς φέρε χαλκὸν ἀτειρέα, μηδέ σε πάμπαν
λευγαλέοις ἐπέεσσιν ἀποτρεπέτω καὶ ἀρειῇ.

ὣς εἰπὼν ἔμπνευσε μένος μέγα ποιμένι λαῶν,
βῆ δὲ διὰ προμάχων κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ. [...]
Αἰνείας δὲ πρῶτος ἀπειλήσας ἐβεβήκει
νευστάζων κόρυθι βριαρῇ: ἀτὰρ ἀσπίδα θοῦριν
πρόσθεν ἔχε στέρνοιο, τίνασσε δὲ χάλκεον ἔγχος.

Πηλεΐδης δ’ ἑτέρωθεν ἐναντίον ὦρτο λέων ὣς [...]
οἳ δ’ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦσαν ἐπ’ ἀλλήλοισιν ἰόντες,
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς:
Αἰνεία τί σὺ τόσσον ὁμίλου πολλὸν ἐπελθὼν
ἔστης; ἦ σέ γε θυμὸς ἐμοὶ μαχέσασθαι ἀνώγει
ἐλπόμενον Τρώεσσιν ἀνάξειν ἱπποδάμοισι
τιμῆς τῆς Πριάμου; ἀτὰρ εἴ κεν ἔμ’ ἐξεναρίξῃς,
οὔ τοι τοὔνεκά γε Πρίαμος γέρας ἐν χερὶ θήσει:
εἰσὶν γάρ οἱ παῖδες, ὃ δ’ ἔμπεδος οὐδ’ ἀεσίφρων.
ἦ νύ τί τοι Τρῶες τέμενος τάμον ἔξοχον ἄλλων
καλὸν φυταλιῆς καὶ ἀρούρης, ὄφρα νέμηαι
αἴ κεν ἐμὲ κτείνῃς; χαλεπῶς δέ σ’ ἔολπα τὸ ῥέξειν.
ἤδη μὲν σέ γέ φημι καὶ ἄλλοτε δουρὶ φοβῆσαι.
ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε πέρ σε βοῶν ἄπο μοῦνον ἐόντα
σεῦα κατ’ Ἰδαίων ὀρέων ταχέεσσι πόδεσσι
καρπαλίμως; τότε δ’ οὔ τι μετατροπαλίζεο φεύγων.
ἔνθεν δ’ ἐς Λυρνησσὸν ὑπέκφυγες: αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τὴν
πέρσα μεθορμηθεὶς σὺν Ἀθήνῃ καὶ Διὶ πατρί,
ληϊάδας δὲ γυναῖκας ἐλεύθερον ἦμαρ ἀπούρας
ἦγον: ἀτὰρ σὲ Ζεὺς ἐρρύσατο καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι.
ἀλλ’ οὐ νῦν ἐρύεσθαι ὀΐομαι, ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ
βάλλεαι: ἀλλά σ’ ἔγωγ’ ἀναχωρήσαντα κελεύω
ἐς πληθὺν ἰέναι, μηδ’ ἀντίος ἵστασ’ ἐμεῖο,
πρίν τι κακὸν παθέειν: ῥεχθὲν δέ τε νήπιος ἔγνω.

τὸν δ’ αὖτ’ Αἰνείας ἀπαμείβετο φώνησέν τε:
Πηλεΐδη μὴ δὴ ἐπέεσσί με νηπύτιον ὣς
ἔλπεο δειδίξεσθαι, ἐπεὶ σάφα οἶδα καὶ αὐτὸς
ἠμὲν κερτομίας ἠδ’ αἴσυλα μυθήσασθαι. [...]
ἀλκῆς δ’ οὔ μ’ ἐπέεσσιν ἀποτρέψεις μεμαῶτα
πρὶν χαλκῷ μαχέσασθαι ἐναντίον: ἀλλ’ ἄγε θᾶσσον
γευσόμεθ’ ἀλλήλων χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν.

ἦ ῥα καὶ ἐν δεινῷ σάκει ἤλασεν ὄβριμον ἔγχος
σμερδαλέῳ: μέγα δ’ ἀμφὶ σάκος μύκε δουρὸς ἀκωκῇ.
Πηλεΐδης δὲ σάκος μὲν ἀπὸ ἕο χειρὶ παχείῃ
ἔσχετο ταρβήσας: φάτο γὰρ δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος
ῥέα διελεύσεσθαι μεγαλήτορος Αἰνείαο
νήπιος, οὐδ’ ἐνόησε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμὸν
ὡς οὐ ῥηΐδι’ ἐστὶ θεῶν ἐρικυδέα δῶρα
ἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι δαμήμεναι οὐδ’ ὑποείκειν.
οὐδὲ τότ’ Αἰνείαο δαΐφρονος ὄβριμον ἔγχος
ῥῆξε σάκος: χρυσὸς γὰρ ἐρύκακε, δῶρα θεοῖο:
ἀλλὰ δύω μὲν ἔλασσε διὰ πτύχας, αἳ δ’ ἄρ’ ἔτι τρεῖς
ἦσαν, ἐπεὶ πέντε πτύχας ἤλασε κυλλοποδίων,
τὰς δύο χαλκείας, δύο δ’ ἔνδοθι κασσιτέροιο,
τὴν δὲ μίαν χρυσῆν, τῇ ῥ’ ἔσχετο μείλινον ἔγχος.

δεύτερος αὖτ’ Ἀχιλεὺς προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,
καὶ βάλεν Αἰνείαο κατ’ ἀσπίδα πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην
ἄντυγ’ ὕπο πρώτην, ᾗ λεπτότατος θέε χαλκός,
λεπτοτάτη δ’ ἐπέην ῥινὸς βοός: ἣ δὲ διὰ πρὸ
Πηλιὰς ἤϊξεν μελίη, λάκε δ’ ἀσπὶς ὑπ’ αὐτῆς.
Αἰνείας δ’ ἐάλη καὶ ἀπὸ ἕθεν ἀσπίδ’ ἀνέσχε
δείσας: ἐγχείη δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπὲρ νώτου ἐνὶ γαίῃ
ἔστη ἱεμένη, διὰ δ’ ἀμφοτέρους ἕλε κύκλους
ἀσπίδος ἀμφιβρότης: ὃ δ’ ἀλευάμενος δόρυ μακρὸν
ἔστη, κὰδ δ’ ἄχος οἱ χύτο μυρίον ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
ταρβήσας ὅ οἱ ἄγχι πάγη βέλος. αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἐμμεμαὼς ἐπόρουσεν ἐρυσσάμενος ξίφος ὀξὺ
σμερδαλέα ἰάχων: ὃ δὲ χερμάδιον λάβε χειρὶ
Αἰνείας, μέγα ἔργον, ὃ οὐ δύο γ’ ἄνδρε φέροιεν,
οἷοι νῦν βροτοί εἰσ’: ὃ δέ μιν ῥέα πάλλε καὶ οἶος.
ἔνθά κεν Αἰνείας μὲν ἐπεσσύμενον βάλε πέτρῳ
ἢ κόρυθ’ ἠὲ σάκος, τό οἱ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,
τὸν δέ κε Πηλεΐδης σχεδὸν ἄορι θυμὸν ἀπηύρα,
εἰ μὴ ἄρ’ ὀξὺ νόησε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων:
αὐτίκα δ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπεν:
ὢ πόποι ἦ μοι ἄχος μεγαλήτορος Αἰνείαο,
ὃς τάχα Πηλεΐωνι δαμεὶς Ἄϊδος δὲ κάτεισι
πειθόμενος μύθοισιν Ἀπόλλωνος ἑκάτοιο
νήπιος, οὐδέ τί οἱ χραισμήσει λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλὰ τί ἢ νῦν οὗτος ἀναίτιος ἄλγεα πάσχει
μὰψ ἕνεκ’ ἀλλοτρίων ἀχέων, κεχαρισμένα δ’ αἰεὶ
δῶρα θεοῖσι δίδωσι τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν;
ἀλλ’ ἄγεθ’ ἡμεῖς πέρ μιν ὑπὲκ θανάτου ἀγάγωμεν,
μή πως καὶ Κρονίδης κεχολώσεται, αἴ κεν Ἀχιλλεὺς
τόνδε κατακτείνῃ: μόριμον δέ οἵ ἐστ’ ἀλέασθαι,
ὄφρα μὴ ἄσπερμος γενεὴ καὶ ἄφαντος ὄληται
Δαρδάνου, ὃν Κρονίδης περὶ πάντων φίλατο παίδων
οἳ ἕθεν ἐξεγένοντο γυναικῶν τε θνητάων. [...]

τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη:
ἐννοσίγαι’, αὐτὸς σὺ μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι νόησον [...].
ἤτοι μὲν γὰρ νῶϊ πολέας ὠμόσσαμεν ὅρκους
πᾶσι μετ’ ἀθανάτοισιν ἐγὼ καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
μή ποτ’ ἐπὶ Τρώεσσιν ἀλεξήσειν κακὸν ἦμαρ,
μηδ’ ὁπότ’ ἂν Τροίη μαλερῷ πυρὶ πᾶσα δάηται
καιομένη, καίωσι δ’ ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γ’ ἄκουσε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
βῆ ῥ’ ἴμεν ἄν τε μάχην καὶ ἀνὰ κλόνον ἐγχειάων,
ἷξε δ’ ὅθ’ Αἰνείας ἠδ’ ὃ κλυτὸς ἦεν Ἀχιλλεύς.
αὐτίκα τῷ μὲν ἔπειτα κατ’ ὀφθαλμῶν χέεν ἀχλὺν
Πηλεΐδῃ Ἀχιλῆϊ: ὃ δὲ μελίην εὔχαλκον
ἀσπίδος ἐξέρυσεν μεγαλήτορος Αἰνείαο:
καὶ τὴν μὲν προπάροιθε ποδῶν Ἀχιλῆος ἔθηκεν,
Αἰνείαν δ’ ἔσσευεν ἀπὸ χθονὸς ὑψόσ’ ἀείρας.
πολλὰς δὲ στίχας ἡρώων, πολλὰς δὲ καὶ ἵππων
Αἰνείας ὑπερᾶλτο θεοῦ ἀπὸ χειρὸς ὀρούσας,
ἷξε δ’ ἐπ’ ἐσχατιὴν πολυάϊκος πολέμοιο,
ἔνθά τε Καύκωνες πόλεμον μέτα θωρήσσοντο.
τῷ δὲ μάλ’ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα:
Αἰνεία, τίς σ’ ὧδε θεῶν ἀτέοντα κελεύει
ἀντία Πηλεΐωνος ὑπερθύμοιο μάχεσθαι,
ὃς σεῦ ἅμα κρείσσων καὶ φίλτερος ἀθανάτοισιν;
ἀλλ’ ἀναχωρῆσαι ὅτε κεν συμβλήσεαι αὐτῷ,
μὴ καὶ ὑπὲρ μοῖραν δόμον Ἄϊδος εἰσαφίκηαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί κ’ Ἀχιλεὺς θάνατον καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ,
θαρσήσας δὴ ἔπειτα μετὰ πρώτοισι μάχεσθαι:
οὐ μὲν γάρ τίς σ’ ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν ἐξεναρίξει.

ὣς εἰπὼν λίπεν αὐτόθ’, ἐπεὶ διεπέφραδε πάντα.
αἶψα δ’ ἔπειτ’ Ἀχιλῆος ἀπ’ ὀφθαλμῶν σκέδασ’ ἀχλὺν
θεσπεσίην: ὃ δ’ ἔπειτα μέγ’ ἔξιδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν:
ὢ πόποι ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ’ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι:
ἔγχος μὲν τόδε κεῖται ἐπὶ χθονός, οὐδέ τι φῶτα
λεύσσω, τῷ ἐφέηκα κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων.
ἦ ῥα καὶ Αἰνείας φίλος ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν
ἦεν: ἀτάρ μιν ἔφην μὰψ αὔτως εὐχετάασθαι.
ἐρρέτω: οὔ οἱ θυμὸς ἐμεῦ ἔτι πειρηθῆναι
ἔσσεται, ὃς καὶ νῦν φύγεν ἄσμενος ἐκ θανάτοιο.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ Δαναοῖσι φιλοπτολέμοισι κελεύσας
τῶν ἄλλων Τρώων πειρήσομαι ἀντίος ἐλθών.

But then Lord Apollon, the son of Zeus, said to [Aineias]:
“Pray, then, to the immortal gods—yes, even you, hero!*—
since they say that Aphrodite, the daughter of Zeus,
is your mother. That [Akhilleus] is of a lower degree of god,
for your mother is of Zeus, but his, merely the Old Man of the Sea.
Now, pick up your unwearying bronze, and don't you let
him weary you* with curses or threats.”

Then he breathed great spirit into the prince,*
who went beyond the flashing bronze helmets of the vanguard. [...]
And Aineias stood menacingly out in front:
lowering his heavy helmet, holding his eager shield
in front of him, and brandishing his bronze spear.

Across the field, the son of Peleus prowled forth like a lion, [...]
and when they had drawn close to each other,
swift-footed, noble Akhilleus spoke first:
“Aineias!? Out of such a huge crowd, why did you come out
to make a stand? Were you itching to fight me*
in the hopes of being lord of the horse-taming Troians,
the pride of Priam? Even if you kill me,
it’s not like Priam would put the crown in your hands,
not while his sons are of sound body and mind.
Or maybe the Troians set aside some choice parcel
of good orchards and fields* for you to manage
if you kill me? I don’t think you’ll find it easy—
I seem to remember having already set you running scared of my spear!
Or had you forgotten that time you were separated from your cows
and I chased you down Mount Ida as fast as your feet could carry you?
You never even looked back as you ran!
You escaped to Lurnessos, but I set it
to the torch, having tracked you with Athene and father Zeus,
and I took away her women’s day of freedom*
and led them away.* Zeus and the other gods saved you then,
but I don’t think they’ll save you now, like you think they will;*
I urge you to go back
into the crowd instead of facing me man-to-man—
you might get hurt! ‘Only an idiot makes the same mistake twice.*’”

Then Aineias spoke in answer to him:
“Son of Peleus! You can’t hope to frighten me like a baby with your words,
since I, too, know how
to bitch and moan. [...]*
You will not turn me from the battle I desire
before we meet bronze-to-bronze. Come on, then—
let’s taste each other’s spears!*”

And with that he hurled his heavy, fearsome spear into that marvelous shield,*
and the great shield rang out from the impact.
With his strong hand the son of Peleus pushed the shield away from him
in alarm, since he foolishly thought the long spear
of heroic Aineias would pass right through it—
he didn’t realize, deep in his heart and mind,
that the glorious gifts of the gods are not easily
broken or turned aside by mortal men!
So the heavy spear of skillful Aineias did not
pierce that god-given shield, since the gold held;
even so, he drove it through two plates, but three
remained, since the Clubfoot* had forged it of five:
two of bronze, two of tin within those,
and [the middle] one of gold,* which held the ashwood spear.

Next, Akhilleus hurled his long-handled spear
and struck the circular shield of Aineias
on its edge, where the bronze and leather run thinnest,
and the the son of Pelias’s ashwood shot through
and the shield crashed under it.
Aineias shrank and flung his shield up
in fear, and the spear deflected over his back and stuck in the earth,
having sundered the two parts of the circle
of the massive shield.* Having dodged the hefty shaft, he
stood still, eyes wide in shock,
frightened that the missile grazed so near, while Akhilleus
quickly drew his double-edged sidearm* and pounced at him
with a fearsome roar, but Aineias seized a boulder in his hand—
a mighty deed! two men couldn’t have lifted it,
such as men are now, but he wielded it easily by himself—
then Aineias would have charged and thrown the rock
at helmet or shield, which would have kept [Akhilleus] from certain death,
and the son of Peleus would have closed and taken away his life with his sword,
had not Poseidaon Earth-Shaker seen it quickly
and immediately spoke his mind to the immortal gods:
“Damn, I ache for great-hearted Aineias,*
soon to be broken by the son of Peleus and descend to the house of Haides,
having let himself be persuaded by the words of Sniper Apollo—
foolishly, since [the god] won’t save him from a grim fate.
But why should this innocent pointlessly suffer
for others’ mischief, when he always
gives such nice gifts to the gods who hold the wide heavens?
How about we snatch him away from death?
The son of Kronos might also be angry if Akhilleus
cuts him down, since he is destined to escape [Troia],
lest the bloodline of Dardanos be destroyed or forgotten,
since he was the favorite of all the sons of Zeus
that were born to him of mortal women. [...]”

Then the cow-eyed queen Here answered him, saying:
“You do you,* Earth-Shaker, [...]
but as for us, we have sworn many oaths
before the immortals, little Athene* and I,
never to prevent a bad day for the Troians—
not even should all Troia be set alight and consumed by fire,
so long as the martial* sons of the Akhaians kindle it.*”

But when Poseidaon Earth-Shaker had heard this,*
he went on over the fighting and clash of weapons
and came to where Aineias and glorious Akhilleus were,
and he immediately poured a mist down over the eyes
of Akhilleus, son of Peleus, and drew the bronze-tipped ashwood
from the shield of greathearted Aineias
and set it at the feet of Akhilleus;
but Aineieas he spirited away, lifting him high above the earth.
And many ranks of heroes and horses both
were quickly passed over by Aineias in the hand of the god,
until he landed at the furthest of the many battle fronts,
where the Kaukonians were arming up for war.
Then Poseidaon Earth-Shaker came up beside him
and admonished him, piercing with words fletched as arrows:*
“Aineias! Who the hell ordered you to recklessly
face that madman son of Peleus’s in battle?
He’s both stronger and dearer to the immortals than you are!*
He ever comes near you, you run—
or else you’re going to the house of Haides no matter what your destiny is.
But when Akhilleus is dead and gone to his fate,
then take courage and fight at the forefront,
since he’s the only Akhaian that can beat you.”

He left Aineias there after saying all this
and dispersed the heaven-sent mist from Akhilleus’s eyes
so that he goggled
and ranted to himself:
“What the fuck kind of magic is this!?
Here’s my spear lying on the ground, but I can’t
see the man I meant to kill with it.
So Aineias really is dear to the immortal gods!
I thought he was just bullshitting me.
Eh, fuck it: he won’t have the guts to face me
again, happy to have cheated death once.
Come on, I’ll rally the bloodthirsty Danaans
to go and try some other Troian face-to-face.”

(Homer, Iliad XX 103–352, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

Notes:

Hero: ἥρως, literally “hero” in Greek, too. Hero comes from the Egyptian heru “falcon,” referring to the god Horos; that is, a “hero” is a little-H horos (rather than the big-H Horos). Many sources (Herodotos, Histories II cxliv; Diodoros, Library of History I xxv; Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XII) equate Apollon with Horos, implying that Apollon is the god of heroes. If the god of heroes himself calls you a hero, I imagine you’re doing something right! In fact, Aineias is much beloved by the gods, being saved from certain death by each of Aphrodite, Apollon, and (as we see here) Poseidaon. He was also the only Troian hero to survive the fall of Troia.
Weary you: the pun is mine; the Greek is ἀτειρέα "unable to be dulled" and ἀποτρεπέτω "turn you away."
Prince: ποιμένι λαῶν, literally “shepherd of his people.” Homer has a higher opinion of nobility than I do, but then, I guess I always was more of a Hesiod sort of guy!
Itching to fight me: ἦ σέ γε θυμὸς ἐμοὶ μαχέσασθαι ἀνώγει, literally “did your heart command you to fight me?”
Orchards and fields: Greek distinguishes “land planted with field crops” (wheat, barley, etc.) and “land planted with anything else” (e.g. orchards, vineyards, gardens, etc.), and these are the two kinds of land being described.
Day of freedom: what a serendipitous turn of phrase!
Led them away: this was when Akhilleus captured his favorite girl-toy, Briseis, the fight over whom started off the events of the Iliad.
Like you think they will: ὡς ἐνὶ θυμῷ βάλλεαι, literally “as is set in your heart.”
Only an idiot makes the same mistake twice: ῥεχθὲν δέ τε νήπιος ἔγνω, literally “even a child learns from experience,” but I wanted to clarify it since Akhilleus is implying that Aineias would be foolish to try his luck again.
[...]: I know I make Aineias sound like a stoic, actions-speak-louder-than-words type of person here, but you should know that he goes on at excruciating length about the lineage of princes of Troia. He's actually much more of a kinda square, by-the-book sort.
Spears: χαλκήρεσιν ἐγχείῃσιν, literally “bronze-tipped spears,” but the excessive repetition of the word “bronze” was galling.
That marvelous shield: the beautifully-crafted shield that Hephaistos, god of smiths, forged for him the night before and inlaid with beautiful imagery. Its description is one of the highlights of the Iliad, and can be found in XVIII 478–608.
The Clubfoot: Hephaistos, who was born lame.
[The middle] one of gold: gonna be honest, it seems pretty strange to use tin (which is brittle) and gold (which is both soft and very heavy) in a shield, especially on the inside where their corrosion-resistance and beauty aren't on display!
Massive shield: ἀσπίδος ἀμφιβρότης, literally “shield which covers both sides of a man.”
Double-edged sidearm: ξίφος ὀξὺ, literally “sharp-pointed xiphos,” which was a backup weapon, a large dagger or short sword sharpened on both sides, meant for both slashing and stabbing.
I ache for great-hearted Aineias: Throughout the Iliad, Poseidaon sides with the Akhaians. His regard for Aineias is therefore quite special!
You do you: αὐτὸς σὺ μετὰ φρεσὶ σῇσι νόησον, “decide for yourself within your own heart.”
Little Athene: Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη, usually transliterated “Pallas Athene,” but Παλλάς from πάλλαξ, “child below the age of puberty.” I suppose that’s why she’s always said to be a virgin...
Martial: ἀρήϊοι, literally “of/like/devoted-to Ares,” which is the equivalent to "martial" (e.g. “of/like/devoted-to Mars”) in English. I edited this on 8 May 2025, and had originally translated this word as "warlike." The comments below reference the original.
So long as the [...] Akhaians kindle it: sheesh, talk about vindictive!
But when Poseidaon [...] had heard this: I like to think he rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh before rushing off to save Aineias.
Piercing with words fletched as arrows: φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα, literally “speaking feathered words,” usually translated “winged words.” Like “the wine-colored sea” of the Odyssey, this is one of those phrases that classicists have been arguing over forever. I can’t for the life of me tell why, since the meaning seems obvious enough?
Dearer to the immortals than you are: yeah, maybe his mommy got him some fancy-pants armor, but you don't see anybody rescuing Akhilleus from the battlefield, do you?
To himself: πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν, literally “at his own mighty heart.”

Some follow-on notes to my realization that Helene/Europe/Persephone/etc. are Osiris rather than Horos:

You remember how I (following, I think, Pythagoras and Empedocles) likened Osiris to Fire? Helene (Ἑλένη) is from ἑλένη "torch." Similarly, Ploutarkhos derives Phersephone (Φερσεφόνη) from φαεσφόρος "light-bringing" (On the Man in the Moon XXVII).

You remember how Osiris's name in Egyptian is a little throne next to a little eye (𓊨𓁹), meaning "the seat of the eye" (that is, the root of our consciousness, god-consciousness)? Europe (Εὐρώπη) is from εὐρύς "wide, broad" and some form of ὁρᾶν "to see," indicating something very similar (that god-consciousness sees all at once).

I think I've found the mistake that I've been making: I've been mixing and matching my myths up! I have noted that the Horos-myth concerns growing up and gaining one's inheritance, while the Greek myths concern exile-and-return, but I'm starting to think that these are not two different takes on the same idea; rather, I think they're two different myths and I have been conflating them.

Let me start somewhere else and hopefully it'll become clear as we go. No less than Hesiod tells us that the Theban Wars and the Troian War are the two major events of the age of Heroes:

In the former, Europe was snatched away from Tyre to Crete, and her son Kadmos left Crete (simultaneously by choice and compulsion) to found Thebai, which was ruled by his descendents. Eventually, Thebai was besieged by the Seven, who failed (with six of the Seven dying), and the Epigone (their "offspring," including Diomedes and Eurualos), who successfully sacked the city ten years later, carrying Europe's magic necklace and robe and Manto away.
In the latter, Helene was snatched away from Argos to Troia (simultaneously by choice and compulsion) by Paris. The Danaans sent an envoy to Troia, and when that failed, they (including Diomedes and Eurualos) besieged it for ten years (during which many of their heroes died), eventually sacking the city and carrying Helene and Kassandra away.

Mythically speaking, though, these have the same meaning: the stories of both follow largely the same events, with the only meaningful difference between them being that individuals in the Troia myth are represented by bloodlines in the Thebai myth. We see a very similar story in the Theseus myth, too: the Athenian Youths are snatched away from Athens to the labyrinth (mostly unwillingly, though Theseus by choice). He enters the labyrinth, slays it's inhabitant, and carries the Athenian Youths and Ariadne away. (It is noteworthy that labyrinths are called "Troy-Towns" in England and Scandinavia to this day.)

These don't follow the pattern of the Horos myth, since Horos never leaves Egypt; instead, he avenges his father and claims his birthright. So if Horos represents one category of myth (the Hero-myth), I think the three above constitute a second one; let's call it the City-myth.

Now, I've been looking at a bunch of myths so far, and treating them all as following the Hero-myth model. But I think this is a miscategorization and causes problems (which is why I pulled my Hero Myth Rosetta Stone some weeks ago). The Perseus and Orestes myths clearly follow the Hero-myth model. The Odusseus myth does too, but only if we treat the Odyssey as self-contained, treating the Odusseus of the Iliad as a separate mythic character.

But Kore of the Persephone-myth isn't Horos, she's Europe! Just as Europe is beguiled by Zeus-as-a-bull and a crocus, Kore is beguiled by Hades (the "Khthonic Zeus") and a narcissus. Just as Helene is snatched away to the house of Paris, Kore is snatched away to the house of Hades. Here, though, the envoy from Olumpos (that is, Demeter and her attendants) manage to secure a truce rather than the house of Hades being destroyed. (That is, it covers the first half of the myth but not the last half.)

There's another City-myth I haven't discussed: the Aesir-Vanir War and Ragnarok. Here, Freyja goes (by choice?) to Asgard, the Vanir send an envoy, and the war ends in a truce with Freyja being held hostage by the Aesir. Then things settle for a long time before Asgard is eventually destroyed during Ragnarok (a second, separate war mostly involving the children of the first war, like with Thebai). Frustratingly, while there are tantalizing similarities (for example, Freyja has the Brisingamen and a magic cape, matching Europe's magic necklace and robe), what remains of the Asgard myth—or at least my understanding of it, from my light studies so far!—seems fragmentary...

Now, while I think these are separate myths, there is an interesting way these fit together. The first half of the Hero-myth (that is, concerning Osiris, Danae, etc.) matches the City-myth: beautiful and wonderful Osiris being Europe, Helene, the Athenian Youths, Kore, Freyja, etc., but the second half of the Horos-myth has nothing to do with it. Now, Thebai, Troia, the labyrinth, Asgard, etc. are all obviously the material world in which we live. Horos is born of Isis (in the material world), so if we're looking for a Horos-equivalent in the City-myth, we're looking for someone on the "side" of the city (rather than an invader) and who avoids it's destruction (since Horus is not present for any city's destruction). (That is, even though Homer treats the Danaans as the protagonists of his tale, we should be wary of them, since we are the Troians!) There was exactly one Troian hero who survived the sack of Troia: Aineias, son of Ankhises and Aphrodite, most pious of the Troians, called "hero" by Apollon himself, and most beloved by the gods. I think he's our Horos, and the parallel is made explicit by Dionusos of Halicarnassos, who tells us that Aineias's father warns him before Troia falls, causing him to withdraw to Ida; this is the direct correspondence with Osiris coming to Horos from Hades, and is the point at which the Hero-myth diverges from the City-myth: with the City going on to its destruction while Horos goes on to do something else.

There's two things interesting about Aineias. First, I've always considered Virgil's Aenead to be a second-rate knock-off of the Odyssey, but if I'm right and Aineias is Horos, then this makes sense, since the Odusseus of the Odyssey is also Horos, and thus they ought to tell the same myth. Second, I had been assuming that Baldr was the Germanic equivalent of Apollon or Horos, but Snorri Sturluson identifies Aineias as Víðarr, slayer of Fenrir and one of the only Aesir to survive Ragnarok, and who goes on to found a new city. Thus, presumably Víðarr is also Horos; and if (as Ploutarkhos says) that Seth is to be identified with the eclipse, then Fenrir (who gobbles up the Sun) is presumably Seth (or, more likely, one of his avatars, perhaps the red bull Horos fights).

In the same way, I assume Daidalos (successful) and Ikaros (cautionary) are the Horos-equivalents in the Theseus myth, literally taking on wings and leaving the labyrinth behind to its fate.

Please consider this a first-draft conjecture, there are many, many details that I have yet to chase down, but it resolves the discrepancies that caused me to need to rework my Hero Myth Rosetta Stone, which I will of course be working at as time permits.

It also carries with it the uncomfortable thought that Troia has not yet fallen: the material world is still here, the old gods are not yet dead. Hesiod is unclear on the end of the Heroic age and the beginning of the Iron age—they seem to blend together—but on the basis of his descriptions of the end of the Iron age, the Voluspa's descriptions of the prelude to Ragnarok, and of course my own theories that the old ways remain open (but probably not for much longer), the sack of Troia presumably comes soon. I urge to you to keep a weather eye out for Troian horses and to heed the warning of Laocoon which prompted Ankhises and Aineias to flee:

Timeō Danaōs et dōna ferentēs.
I fear the Danaans, even those bearing gifts.

Even after five millennia, people still paint Horos on walls.

I've been continuing to research and ponder the Horos-myth. Here's my current best-effort to reconstruct it from available sources, all cited below. No interpretations, today, though: this page is for those who wish to study or contemplate the myth for themselves.

Geb and Nut have intercourse. Ra curses Nut so that she cannot give birth on any day of the year. Thoth takes pity on Nut and takes a seventieth part of Iah's light and adds five intercalary days to the year so that Nut can give birth. On each of those days, Nut gives birth to Osiris, Horos (who was born to Osiris and Isis while still in the womb), Seth (who bursts from Nut's side rather than being born normally), Isis, and Nephthus. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XII. See also the similar version given by Diodoros, Library of History I xiii.]
Osiris becomes king of Egypt and civilizes it, then he travels the world and civilizes it, too. While he is away, Seth constructs a beautifully-ornamented box sized to fit Osiris exactly. When Osiris returns, Seth invites Osiris, Queen Aso of Ethiopia, and seventy-two conspirators to a feast. Seth tricks Osiris into the box, seals the box shut, throws it into the Nile, and usurps the throne. Seth's conspirators steer the box to the sea by way of Tanis. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIII. See also the detailed account of Osiris civilizing the world given by Diodoros, Library of History I xiv–xxi.]
Pan and the satyrs learn of Osiris's death and tell Isis. Isis grieves, cuts a lock of her hair, puts on mourning garments, and wanders in search of him. Isis meets some children, who tell her where Osiris's box entered the sea. Isis meets Nephthus and learns that she had a son by Osiris, named Anoubis, but exposed him in fear of Seth. Isis finds Anoubis and raises him to be her attendant. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIV. For another, sparser, account of Anoubis, see Diodoros, Library of History I lxxxvii.]
The box comes to land in a patch of heather near Bublos. The heather grows to an exceptional size, enclosing the box within its stalk. King Malkander of Bublos is so impressed by the stalk that he cuts it down for a pillar in his house. Isis comes to Bublos, sits by a spring, weeps, and speaks to nobody. The maids of Malkander's wife, Astarte, come by the spring. Isis plaits their hair and perfumes them. When the maids return, Astarte sees them beautifully made up and sends for Isis. Astarte makes Isis nurse of her son, Diktus. Isis nurses him with her finger rather than her breast, and puts him in a fire at night to burn away his mortal part. Meanwhile, she transforms into a swallow and flies around the pillar bewailing Osiris. Astarte becomes suspicious, spies Diktus burning, and cries out, which deprives Diktus of immortality. Isis explains herself and asks for the pillar. Astarte consents. Isis cuts the box out of the pillar, wraps the pillar in linen, perfumes it, entrusts it to the royal family as a relic, and laments her husband so profoundly that Astarte's (unnamed) younger son dies. Isis takes the box and Diktus and sails from Bublos. The Phaidros river delays the journey. Isis dries it up in spite. When she is alone, Isis opens the box and grieves over Osiris. Diktus, curious, peeks into the box. Isis, enraged, gives him such an awful look that he dies of fright. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XV–XVII.]
Isis returns to Egypt by Buto and hides the box. Seth finds the box, divides Osiris into fourteen pieces, and scatters them across Egypt. A fish eats the penis. Isis searches the Nile in a papyrus boat; recovers the remaining pieces of Osiris; makes a replacement penis; reassembles him; and, using sorcery, has a son by dead Osiris, named Horos. She then institutes temples in the places where she found each part. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XVIII. See also the very different version given by Diodoros, Library of History I xxi–xxii.]
Isis and Horos go into hiding from Seth. Later, Isis goes out to beg for food. A rich woman refuses to help Isis, while a poor woman gives her food. Seven scorpions who were following Isis sting the rich woman's son, who lies dying. Isis uses sorcery to neutralize the poison, and the rich woman apologizes for refusing Isis and gives her many gifts. Meanwhile, Seth sends a scorpion to their hiding place to sting Horos. The gods notify Isis. Isis races to Horos, but he dies before she arrives. Isis grieves. Nephthus and Serket advise Isis to pray to heaven. She does so. Thoth appears, comforts Isis by saying that heaven's protection of Horos is absolute, uses sorcery to resurrect him, and promises Isis that he will advocate for Horos when needed. [The Metternich Stela.]
When Horos grows up, Osiris comes to him from Duat in the form of a jackal to encourage him to fight and train him. Osiris tests Horos by asking what he believes is best. Horos answers, "to avenge one's parents for wrongdoing!" Osiris then asks what animal is most useful to a soldier. Horos answers, "a horse." Osiris is surprised by this and asks why he wouldn't prefer a lion to a horse. Horos answers, "A lion would be better in a pinch, but without a horse, how could you overtake and cut down a fleeing enemy?" Osiris believes that Horos is ready and rejoices. Seth's concubine, Thoueris, defects to Horos. A serpent chases her. Horos's men slay it. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIX. That Osiris visits in the form of a jackal, see Diodoros, Library of History I lxxxviii; J. Gwyn Griffiths, The Conflict of Horus and Seth IV ii.]
Horos and Seth engage in battle. Seth turns into a red bull and gouges out Horos's eye. Horos cuts off Seth's testicles. After many days, Horos defeats Seth, takes him prisoner, and delivers him to Isis. Isis releases Seth instead of executing him. Horos, enraged, beheads Isis and takes the crown for himself. Thoth replaces Isis's head with a cow's. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIX. That Seth turns into a red bull, see the Pyramid Texts 418a, 679d, 1543a–1550a, 1977b; Zeitschrift für ägyptische Sprache und Altertumskunde XLVIII p. 72. That Horos loses his eye, that Seth loses his testicles, and that they are restored after the trial, see the Pyramid Texts 36a, 39a, 65b, 95c, 418a, 535a–b, 578d, 591b, 594a, 595a–596c, 679d, 946a–c, 1614b. That Isis was beheaded, see Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XX; the Papyrus Sallier IV.]
Seth takes Horos to court over the legitimacy of his birth (and, consequently, of his claim to the throne). Thoth argues persuasively in favor of Horos. The gods find Horos to be the legitimate son of Osiris but not of Isis, stripping Horos of his mother's part (his flesh) but leaving him his father's part (his bones). They force Horos and Seth to restore each other's missing parts and divide Egypt between them, making Horos king of Lower Egypt and Seth king of Upper Egypt. Horos defeats Seth in battle a second time. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIX. That Horos is stripped of his outer part after the trial, see the Papyrus Jumilhac; Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XX; Ploutarkhos on Desire and Grief VI; Ploutarkhos on the Generation of the Soul in the Timaios XXVII. That Horos and Seth's missing parts are restored after the trial, see refs. to [8], above. That Horos is granted Lower Egypt after the trial, see the Shabaka Stone.]
Horos defeats Seth in battle a third time, becomes king of Upper Egypt (and, consequently, unifying it), and reconciles with Seth. [Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XIX. That Horos becomes king of all Egypt, see the Turin King List; the Shabaka Stone; Herodotos, Histories II cxliv; Manetho, History of Egypt; Diodoros, Library of History I xxv; etc. That Horos and Seth reconcile, see the Pyramid Texts 390b, 678a–c, 801b–c, 971a–b, 975a–b, 1453b, 2100a–b; the Shabaka Stone; but see also the account where Seth was executed given by Diodoros, Library of History I xxi.]

Here are keys that I have found useful in case one is lost: Ra ("the Sun") is Love is the unifying force. Iah ("the Moon") is Strife is the separatory force. Nut ("the sky") is the state in which all is held together in Love. Thoth ("ibis-like") is Necessity (the need of the all to produce all). Geb ("the ground") is the state in which all is held apart in Strife. Osiris ("the seat of the eye") is Fire is universal consciousness. Horos ("falcon") is Light is individual consciousness (called "child" when embodied and "great" when unembodied). Seth ("to oppress" or "to subdue," cf. Ploutarkhos, Isis and Osiris XLI) is Air is the spiritual medium which transmits consciousness (separating it from universal to individual). Nephthus ("lady of the house") is Water is the material medium which transmits consciousness (distorting it from selfless to selfish). Isis ("the seat") is Earth is the material medium which receives consciousness. Anoubis ("prince") is cause-and-effect or karma (the consequences of the actions of selfish consciousness). Thoueris ("the great one") is desire. The serpent that chases Thoueris is the consequences of desire.

Akhilles returns to the killing-fields of Troia. Apollon encourages prince Aineias to step up and fight him but Akhilles's armor, newly-forged by Hephaistos himself, is impervious to his blows. Akhilles is just about to kill Aineias when Poseidon spirits him away from battle. Akhilles raves (Iliad XX 344–352):

ὢ πόποι ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ’ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι:
ἔγχος μὲν τόδε κεῖται ἐπὶ χθονός, οὐδέ τι φῶτα
λεύσσω, τῷ ἐφέηκα κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων.
ἦ ῥα καὶ Αἰνείας φίλος ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν
ἦεν: ἀτάρ μιν ἔφην μὰψ αὔτως εὐχετάασθαι.
ἐρρέτω: οὔ οἱ θυμὸς ἐμεῦ ἔτι πειρηθῆναι
ἔσσεται, ὃς καὶ νῦν φύγεν ἄσμενος ἐκ θανάτοιο.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ Δαναοῖσι φιλοπτολέμοισι κελεύσας
τῶν ἄλλων Τρώων πειρήσομαι ἀντίος ἐλθών.

Here is how Samuel Butler translates it:

Alas! what marvel am I now beholding? Here is my spear upon the ground, but I see not him whom I meant to kill when I hurled it. Of a truth Aeneas also must be under heaven's protection, although I had thought his boasting was idle. Let him go hang; he will be in no mood to fight me further, seeing how narrowly he has missed being killed. I will now give my orders to the Danaans and attack some other of the Trojans.

This is hot garbage. It's slow, it's flat, and it conveys none of Akhilles's fury or personality. (His own best friend, Patroklos, called him "a dreadful man, who would be quick to blame even the innocent!") My favorite, W. H. D. Rouse's, is a little better but still not very good:

Confound it all, here's a miracle done before my eyes! There lies my spear on the ground, and not a trace can I see of the fellow I meant to kill! Aineias must have some friends in heaven. And I thought his boasting was all stuff and nonsense! Let him go to the devil. He won't have a mind to try me again after this happy escape from death! All right, I will round up our people and have a try for some other Trojans.

Rouse argued vehemently, and I agree, that Homer wasn't trying to be high literature: the Iliad was meant to be a rousing story told over beer. Sure, it contains dignified history and theology, but it was not, itself, meant to be dignified—it was meant to be exciting enough to buy the bard another day's meal and lodging. But I think Rouse dropped the ball, here.

Here's how I'd translate it:

What the fuck kind of magic is this!?
Here's my spear lying on the ground, but I can't
see the man I meant to kill with it.
So Aineias really is dear to the immortal gods!
I thought he was just bullshitting me.
Eh, fuck it: he won't have the guts to face me
again, happy to have cheated death once.
Come on, I'll rally the bloodthirsty Danaans
to go and try some other Troian face-to-face.

Compared to the others, it may look like I'm taking liberties, but it's nearly word-for-word...

(If you don't like his language, let me remind you we're talking about Akhilles and not, say, Diomedes or Hektor!)

I think it is important to note that, while every Greek hero-myth concerns itself with exile and return, in the Egyptian hero-myth, Horos never leaves Egypt.

Actually, I think I jumped the gun in posting my Hero-Myth Rosetta Stone... it needs to cook a little longer, lest I mislead anyone. I have taken it down again for the moment. I apologize if anyone was in the midst of using it!

I have often seen it said in both occult texts and descriptions of NDEs that souls, when born into a body, are given not a single death-date, but two, which they may choose between during their mortal life. I've always wondered where the doctrine came from.

It occurs to me just now that maybe it comes from the mysteries, after all:

μήτηρ γάρ τέ μέ φησι θεὰ Θέτις ἀργυρόπεζα
διχθαδίας κῆρας φερέμεν θανάτοιο τέλος δέ.
εἰ μέν κ’ αὖθι μένων Τρώων πόλιν ἀμφιμάχωμαι,
ὤλετο μέν μοι νόστος, ἀτὰρ κλέος ἄφθιτον ἔσται:
εἰ δέ κεν οἴκαδ’ ἵκωμι φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
ὤλετό μοι κλέος ἐσθλόν, ἐπὶ δηρὸν δέ μοι αἰὼν
ἔσσεται, οὐδέ κέ μ’ ὦκα τέλος θανάτοιο κιχείη.
For my mother, the goddess Thetis of the silver feet, says
that I bear twin angels of death with me to my fate:
if I stay here and besiege the city of the Troians,
then my return is lost, but my name will live forever;
but if I go home to the beloved land of my fathers,
then my noble name is lost, but my life will long
endure, and my fated death will not soon reach me.
(Akhilles speaking. Homer, Iliad IX 410–416, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

Personally, I would take this to describe how an initiate must decide whether to spend their efforts on material accomplishments or spiritual accomplishments, since the two are mutually exclusive, but I can see how one might take it otherwise.

And while I'm at it, I'll leave you all with a question I've been pondering.

I'm pretty convinced that many of the hero myths and mystery cults in Greece are derivative of those of Horos: they line up too nicely to be a coincidence, in my opinion, and the Greeks themselves say they came from Egypt. There's just one outlier, and to my mind it's such a huge one that it dismantles much of my thesis that the Greeks got all this from Egypt.

Apollon.

While all of his symbolism is identical to Horos's, and while (early, Delian) Apollon's family relationships match up with those of Horos (Zeus=Osiris, Leto=Isis, Asteria=Nephthys, Artemis=Anubis), that's about it: Apollon's myths don't have a Seth-equivalent and don't form a coherent story-arc like the hero myths do (rather, telling a variety of disconnected stories, somewhat like the early Gilgamesh tales before they were compiled into the Epic).

There is also the insistence that Apollon came to the Greeks from Hyperborea, far to the north, this being the birthplace of Leto, the winter home of Apollon, the home of Abaris (his favored priest), etc. etc. (Diodoros of Sicily, Library of History II xlvii)

So while all the Greek heroes seem to be Horos, the Greek hero-in-chief conspicuously does not and seems to come from somewhere to the north. Supporting this, there are rumors in channeled and alternative-history sources that say that the Iliad took place in northern Europe and came to the Aegean along with "the sea peoples" who displaced the Mycenaeans, and these same sources are ones that indicate that what we know as Egypt began as an Atlantean colony or refugee settlement. This is notable since I have speculated (on the basis of the symbolism) that the Horos-myth could be a reaction to the Atlantean civilization; if that's so, it's of course noteworthy that Egypt isn't the only place with literally monumental religio-scientific structures beyond the capability of neolithic societies.

So what are we to make of this? Did the Egyptians get Horos from somewhere else? Is Hyperborea a strictly mythical (rather than historical) location? Are Horos and Apollon two parallel branches of some third source, now lost and/or obscured? What, if anything, does all this have to do with Atlantis?

I guess if there's any takeaway, it's humility: we know so little, and that even if I have pretty convincing evidence of all these hero-myths being related, correlation is not causation...

τόσσον ἔνερθ᾽ ὑπὸ γῆς, ὅσον οὐρανός ἐστ᾽ ἀπὸ γαίης:
τόσσον γάρ τ᾽ ἀπὸ γῆς ἐς Τάρταρον ἠερόεντα.
ἐννέα γὰρ νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα χάλκεος ἄκμων
οὐρανόθεν κατιὼν δεκάτῃ κ᾽ ἐς γαῖαν ἵκοιτο:
ἐννέα δ᾽ αὖ νύκτας τε καὶ ἤματα χάλκεος ἄκμων
ἐκ γαίης κατιὼν δεκάτῃ κ᾽ ἐς Τάρταρον ἵκοι.
τὸν πέρι χάλκεον ἕρκος ἐλήλαται: ἀμφὶ δέ μιν νὺξ
τριστοιχεὶ κέχυται περὶ δειρήν: αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν
γῆς ῥίζαι πεφύασι καὶ ἀτρυγέτοιο θαλάσσης.

as far beneath the earth as heaven is above it,
that is how far it is from earth to Tartaros:
since a bronze anvil falling from heaven to earth
for nine days and nights would land on the tenth,
and a bronze anvil falling from earth to Tartaros
for nine days and nights would land on the tenth.
Around it runs a bronze fence, beyond which night
pours in three rows like a collar, while above it
grow the roots of earth and the barren sea.

(Hesiod, Theogony 720–8, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly. Note that the translation is, alas, not line-for-line due to word order considerations.)

ἤ μιν ἑλὼν ῥίψω ἐς Τάρταρον ἠερόεντα
τῆλε μάλ’, ἧχι βάθιστον ὑπὸ χθονός ἐστι βέρεθρον,
ἔνθα σιδήρειαί τε πύλαι καὶ χάλκεος οὐδός,
τόσσον ἔνερθ’ Ἀΐδεω ὅσον οὐρανός ἐστ’ ἀπὸ γαίης:

or I will pick him up and throw him into murky Tartaros
very far away, where the deepest abyss lies under the earth,
surrounded by iron gates and a border of bronze,
as far beneath Hades as heaven is above the earth;

(Zeus speaking. Iliad VIII 13–16, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

Ἔστι μὲν οὖν ἡ πορεία διττὴ πᾶσιν ἢ ἀναβαίνουσιν ἢ ἄνω ἐλθοῦσιν· ἡ μὲν γὰρ προτέρα ἀπὸ τῶν κάτω, ἡ δέ γε δευτέρα, οἷς ἤδη ἐν τῷ νοητῶ γενομένοις καὶ οἷον ἴχνος θεῖσιν ἐκεῖ πορεύεσθαι ἀνάγκη, ἕως ἂν εἰς τὸ ἐσχατον τοῦ τόπου ἀφίκωνται, ὃ δὴ τέλος τῆς πορείας ὂν τυγχάνει, ὅταν τις ἐπ' ἄκρῳ γένηται τῷ νοητῷ.

There are two stages of the journey for all, one when they are going up and one when they have arrived above. The first leads from the regions below, the second is for those who are already in the intelligible realm and have gained their footing There, but must still travel till they reach the furthest point of the region; that is the "end of the journey," when you reach the top of the intelligible.

(Plotinus, Enneads I iii "On Dialectic" §1, as translated by A. H. Armstrong.)

The poets describe three worlds: heaven, earth, and Tartaros. We see three worlds in the mysteries, too; heroes always descend twice and reascend twice:

Osiris is stuffed in a box, then dismembered; in early versions of the Horos-myth (e.g. Shabaka Stone 7–9; cf. Pyramid Texts 770b?, 2099a?), Horos wins the trial to reclaim Lower Egypt, then defeats Seth to reclaim Upper Egypt.
Perseus is exiled from Argos to Seriphos, and is sent from Seriphos to the ends of the earth; he returns to Seriphos with the Gorgon's head, and returns to Argos as king.
Persephone is kidnapped from Nusa, then fed the pomegranate seeds to bind her to Hades.
Hesiod (Theogony 793–804) says that souls which perjure their oaths to the Stux suffer two punishments: they lie comatose for a year, then they are exiled for nine.
Odusseus returns from Troia aimlessly in his own ship, then directly in the ships of others.
Zephyr carries Psyche to Eros's palace, the river carries Psyche to earth; as penances, Psyche wanders the earth aimlessly, then Psyche completes tasks for Venus.
Plotinus says that there are two stages in everyone's upward journey: the ascent from the lower world, and the traversal of the upper world to its highest point.

Therefore I think the poets' "heaven" is the Intellect; "earth" is the world of Soul, the abode of angels and purified souls; and "Tartaros" is our material world, the haunt of daimons and men and beasts, a dark prison surrounded by walls of bronze and gates of iron. Indeed, Homer's shades are insensate because most of us, the inhabitants of Hades, are passive, sheep-like. Teiresias alone among them has his wits because, by the gift of Persephone (that is to say, having mastered the mysteries), he is awake to his seven lives (his reincarnations) and has learned from them, becoming a purified soul, a saint, a hero; he sits in Hades merely waiting for his sentence to be commuted.

So, the heroes' two falls are the emanation from the Intellect and the fall into matter; their two returns are their waking up from the material world (which is relatively brief, if one makes the effort, but very unpleasant) and their efforts to master of the spiritual world (which takes long ages of time but is nicer).

But this also explains another thing that's always bothered me. After Zeus deposes Kronos, he and his brothers share power amongst themselves: Zeus became king of heaven; Poseidon, king of the sea; and Hades, king of the underworld. Since I've mostly followed the four-fold Empedoclean model, the three divisions confused me. The poets' model, however, fits it nicely: Zeus ruling (and being) the Intellect, Poseidon ruling the spiritual world (being Soul), and Hades ruling the material world (being Nature). This explains their traditional attributes, with Zeus being the strongest (because the Intellect has power over all existence), Poseidon being a shapeshifter (because spiritual things are without form), and Hades being wealthy (containing all material things); further, the gifts of the Circle-Eyes are the representation of an individual each at each level: Zeus's lightning-bolts represent the ideas held within the Intellect (hence is a symbol of intuition), Poseidon's trident represents the souls held within Soul (hence is a symbol of reason—a trident grabs a fish much better than a spear, just like reason helps us hold onto intuitive insights—and is, perhaps, why Plato insisted on a tripartite soul), and Hades's dogskin represents the bodies held within Nature (hence is a symbol of sensation and is why Apollodoros says that "it allows one to see while not being seen," a riddling way of describing how a body grants sense-perception while also hiding the soul). This last amuses me: what is a body, after all, but a beast skin wrapped around the soul?

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.)

Profile

May 2025

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30	31

Entries tagged with myths and fables

Snakes and Ladders

The Twin Gates of the Land of Dreams

Sky Stories

City-Myth Correspondences

The White Goddess Rises

Her True Name

Further Notes on the City Myth

The Bath of Pallas

The Joy of Learning

The Duel Between Aineias and Akhilleus

The Names of the Unnameable

The City and the Hero

Isis and Osiris XV: Ten Step Program

Translation is Treason

There's No Place But Home

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Twin Angels of Death

Whence Horos?

Three Worlds

Adding My Voice to the Chorus

Profile

May 2025

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary