The Mitraic Path of Immortality and the Mithraic Mysteries
Part 2 of 2
Mitra, King Arthur and Theseus
As an expansion of this idea we must offer two further targets for comparison. First, having looked at the Mithraic Mysteries and at the mysteries of the Holy Grail, we must further investigate the resonances of this broad pattern to the other legends related to the Holy Grail, specifically those involving King Arthur and Merlin. If we take once more the pattern we have here compared to the Mithraic Mysteries, that of the ideal Sovereign of Justice, who is particularly known for being cuckolded, but also specifically for marshaling and uniting his armies and pursuing his enemies, winning peace and victory for his kingdom by making the climactic kill in battle, and at some point dying or symbolically dying, often near water, under mystical circumstances, only to rise again (or in Lugh's case, being drowned in a lake with only the vague possibility of returning one day) in order to rule in peace and justice and even attain the golden age, to reintegrate the Khvarenah and gain Elysium and immortality, then we begin to come strangely close to that dominant later legendary pattern of medieval Welsh and French literature, the story of Arthur.
We must clarify first that, depending on the story, the figure of Arthur may be a stand-in for different sovereign deities. We have seen that in Chretien de Troye's Grail poem Arthur more closely stands in for Odinn, and that poem seems to reflect a more Germanic mythic milieu blending with a Celtic one. Other tales of Arthur may reflect other sovereign gods, the gist being that Arthur usually stands for “The King of the Gods,” whoever that may be in a given context, and in Celtic myth there are at least three of these: Lugh, Nuada and Dagda. However, Arthur has a central mythos that became the most well-known and fleshed out over time, one in which he figures as the central character, rather than as a side character as in the Grail poem. In this most well-known form, Arthur manifests clearly the Mitraic divinity.
Arthur, like Lugh and Yudhishthira, is known as a just king, destined to bring peace and victory, but is specifically depicted as a uniter, the great Round Table an explicit symbol of the ideal unification of his knights and nobles, of his allies and of his realm in general, brought into balance. It is the Mitraic yatayati in action, it is the great contract of friendship in a visual symbol of a perfected warrior-aristocratic order, balanced and unified by the perfect sovereign, opposites united and made into alliance. Arthur too is conspicuously cuckolded by a young and handsome knight, one who is supposedly his ally, just as, for instance, Paris is at first the ally of Menelaus before betraying him, or as Karna and Dhritarashtra are the ally of Yudhishthira before opposing and tricking him, or Bres the ally of the Tuatha de Danann before opposing Lugh and his people in war. And why, we must ask ourselves, why all these cuckolded kings? Why all these kings cuckolded by their exceedingly handsome young allies, kings who happen to be models of justice and social unity, and who, as Arthur does, die in a mystical manner with the idea that they will return to rule in a golden age, Arthur taken bodily to Avalon across the water as Lugh is plunged into it?
We have seen that Merlin, as the wise wizard and advisor of Arthur is reminiscent of no figure more than the wily Welsh Óðinnic magician god Gwydion, who raises Lleu as a kind of foster son (though in reality he may have been his actual son), tricks Lleu's mother into giving him his name and birthrights, magically revives Lleu when he is mortally wounded on the tree, and punishes Blodeuwedd by transforming her into an owl when they catch up to her. Evola even marks, in his “Mithraic Mysteries,” the fact that King Arthur's sword in the stone is likely to carry the same symbolism as Mithras' birth from the stone. The divine spark or virile principle must be broken free from the prison of rock which is its foundational starting point in order to begin to progress toward spiritual perfection. If this train of thought can be pursued in earnest and with honest appraisal, then we may arrive at the conclusion that the totality of the great archaic mythological pattern which we have laid out thus far, stretching seemingly back multiple millennia even to before the time of the division of the Indo-European branches, has formed the structural spiritual basis for the Mithraic mysteries, the Holy Grail, and the legends of King Arthur generally, not to mention once again the great epics such as the Iliad. If so, then this mythical foundation must have been widespread and deeply ingrained indeed, providing the very forms by which our ancestors in ancient times approached spiritual questions, and giving them, time and again, the paths which constituted their hopes for spiritual perfection.
Second, the legend regarding the Greek Athenian hero Theseus comes into view as yet another story of this same type. This is interesting in particular as Dumezil points out in his Mitra-Varuna how Plutarch placed Theseus and Lycurgus in contrast with one another, but with Theseus as a “Varunian” hero, a founder via his brute force, contrasted with the famous lawgiver Lycurgus, supposedly "Mitraic." Dumezil straightaway points out that this is merely a surface level contrast, however, which can be instructive but shouldn't be carried too far. When the similarities between Theseus' legend and the other Mitraic myths is analyzed, the Plutarchian opposition in fact comes to appear quite ironically misleading. This may once again be due to the paradoxical nature of the Lawful Sovereign, a warrior as much as a pious lawgiver, or may again be due to the blending of Varunian traits into the Mitraic which appears sometimes to happen.
The parallels between Theseus and the other Mitraic figures turn out to be far from negligible. Theseus is born to a father, Aegeus, who dies by leaping into the sea, thus becoming one with it and also giving the sea its name (the Aegean). Theseus is conceived, however, when his mother Aethra, who has lain with Aegeus, pours a libation to Poseidon and that god is said to impregnate her in response. Aegeus himself had previously been unable to conceive a child, and so Aethra's appeal to the god solves his problem. Thus Theseus has two sea-associated fathers, and not only that but he is conceived in much the same way that the Pandava heroes in the Mahabharata are conceived, when their parents, struggling with childlessness, pray to various deities and these deities thus become spiritual fathers to the children they subsequently bestow directly on their mother. As Yudhishthira's father Pandu is an incarnation of the god of sovereignty, sky and water, Varuna, so Theseus is son of the namesake of the Aegean Sea, and spiritual son of the sea god Poseidon. In the Indian version, being the spiritual son of the sea god would make him an incarnation of that god, and with Poseidon being a much closer match to the temperamental and water-centric Varuna this would give more weight to the idea that Theseus is a Varunian rather than Mitraic hero. But the two methods of portraying how this spiritual parentage worked, the Indian and the Greek, clearly aren't a perfect match, and a much closer identity seems to be drawn between Poseidon and Aegeus in this myth. This point is supported also by the fact that Aegeus, just like the Varunian incarnation Pandu, is unable to beget children, resulting in his wife having to look to the gods for this office. If anything, Theseus' parentage shows once again the potential slippage between the Varunian and Mitraic archetypes, while most of the actual details of Theseus' life mark him as primarily Mitraic. In
fact, Pittheus who is father of Aethra, and so grandfather of Theseus, may be a stand in for the Pushanic principle and indeed stands in nearly the same relationship to Theseus that the Pushanic Gwydion does to the Mitraic Lleu. Pittheus, Theseus' grandfather while Cian/Gwydion is the father/foster-father of Lugh/Lleu, is said to be very pious, was the instructor of Theseus, and was known for his great wisdom. He is called pure and holy, is associated with the unfailing payment of pledges, and is skilled in interpreting oracles, while the Pushanic god is of the first rank in the art of prophecy, Pan having taught prophecy to Apollo. Pittheus is also an expert in speaking, while Gwydion is "the best teller of tales in the world" (Lugh's grandfather is also the god of speech, Cainte, “speech,” aka Dian Cecht, and there could be slippage between these archetypes in the figure of Pittheus. Stil, the “Pushanic” divinity seems the more likely option due to the mentoship pattern repeating with Gwydion/Lleu). Pittheus also is the one who causes Aegeus to sleep with Pittheus' daughter on the same night that daughter is raped by Poseidon. This trick of Pittheus ensures that Aegeus will take Theseus as his heir. We must recall that Merlin similarly uses a ruse to help Uther lay with Igraine in order to conceive Arthur, and that Gwydion tricks Math into leaving in order to allow Gilfaethwy to rape Goewin. Thus the tutelage of Theseus by Pittheus is very reminiscent of that of Lleu by Gwydion or that of Arthur by Merlin, and seems to stand here in precisely the same mytho-syntactic slot.
Aegeus leaves Theseus and his mother before Theseus is grown, and leaves behind a sword and pair of shoes under a great stone. He tells Aethra that if Theseus is able to lift this stone and receive sword and shoes when he grows to manhood that he should then be sent to Aegeus to claim his birthright as heir to the throne. When he is of age, Theseus lifts the stone and retrieves sword and shoes. This episode is a clear and obvious parallel to the Arthurian sword-in-the-stone motif, which we have pointed out falls in line also with the Mithraic motif of the breaking of the rock into which Mithras is born. When he arrives at Aegeus' palace, Theseus is opposed in the acquisition of his birthright by his father's wife and queen Medea, who even sends him to capture the great Marathonian Bull in the hope that he will die in the attempt. He succeeds however, sacrifices the bull, and is then reunited with his father (after one last unsuccessful attempt on his life by Medea), and Theseus gains his birthright and becomes heir to his father's throne.
Medea's opposition to Theseus gaining his birthright is highly reminiscent of the Welsh Arianrhod's opposition to the naming and arming of Lleu Llaw Gyffes in the Mabinogion. Arianrhod, mother of Lleu, places a series of magical tyngedau on Lleu to prevent him from being named, then from being given arms, then from marrying a woman of any earthly race. However, Lleu and Gwydion outwit her each time, eventually gaining Lleu all three of these markers of the full acquisition of manhood and maturity: proper name, arms, and wife. In both cases, the frightening maternal figures act as testers of the young heroes, guardians of manhood who must be overcome in order for the youths to gain their full identities, maturity, and places in the sovereign succession.
On his way to the palace, Theseus also encounters a series of deadly chthonian bandits, all of whom he kills in the same manner that they treated their victims, thus exercising precise justice and fitting his punishments to their crimes. The episode therefore demonstrates three things essential to the Mitraic character: that he is a carrier out of strict justice, in the form of retribution both precise and unswerving; that he is a hero of a wide array of skills; and that he is a uniter and improver of the kingdom, cleansing the criminals and forces of chaos from the region. He beats one bandit with a club, tears one in half between two trees, pushes one off a cliff, defeats one at wrestling, uses the famous bed of Procrustes to cut off the legs and head of the bandit that is its namesake, and kills a great pig. Though these feats are all relatively closely related to the skills of combat, they may connect to the concept found in the title of Irish Lugh, Samildanach, the concept of the many-skilled god. Theseus' entry into the palace just after this display of various feats is reminiscent of Lugh's entrance into the court of the Irish gods when he is made to list his many competencies.
Theseus' entrance into court disrupts the planned succession to the throne of another court member, Pallas, as Lugh perhaps similarly takes the presumptive heir position under Nuada which Bres had held but had been forced out of. Bres' ejection from his temporary kingship incites the great war in which Bres and the Fomorians are killed, while Pallantides and his sons' displacement from the sovereign succession leads to a fight in which Theseus and Aegeus massacre the Pallantides even as they attempt his assassination. Theseus kills both the Marathonian Bull, and sacrifices it, as mentioned, and later, the half-bull Minotaur, as Mithras in his most central depiction is shown killing the previously discussed great bull. This may be the most imagistically striking correspondence of all, and may even suggest that the Theseus legend was a possible forerunner of this particular Mithraic detail, or at least that the two myths share a common deeper origin. The fact that this Mitraic hero, Theseus, is so involved in bull killing as well as bull sacrificing, is itself a powerful argument that Roman Mithras is not at all out of place performing such a sacrifice. Theseus is also known prominently as a uniter, responsible for the synoecism that led to the growth and ascension of Athens (the cleansing of the bandits is often taken as symbolic of this process of the creation of order and unity). Mitra, of course, is prominently the god of uniting, via contracts, alliances, and friendship, as we have seen in a clear case in King Arthur, for one. The name “Theseus” means “rule” or “precept,” associating him closely with the law-guided nature of the Lawful Sovereign archetype. Later in his legend, Theseus comes to believe he has been cuckolded by his wife Phaedra (with his own son by another woman), and, as we have seen, cuckolding in one form or another is a central theme of nearly every Mitraic hero. As Lleu and Baldr die temporarily and go to the otherworld, while Lugh and Arthur die and are hinted to return one day, so Theseus also becomes trapped in Hades for a time. He too is ultimately rescued therefrom, as again both Lleu and Baldr are brought back from their temporary deaths and otherworld imprisonments. Worth noting, Theseus also brings the géranos, or “Crane” Dance to Delos (Plutarch, Theseus, 21), while Lugh dances what is referred to as a Crane Dance before the Second Battle of Maige Tuireadh.
We can see from this brief outline that Theseus too has been formed out of the same Mitraic elements we have seen again and again. He has a water-associated paternal figure and an oracular tutor, he rescues sword from stone, demonstrates his many skills, gains his sovereign birthright, kills the bull, defeats the pretenders who would steal his throne, in this case thinks he has been cuckolded and gains revenge, is temporarily imprisoned in the underworld, but is brought back to rule once more, uniting his kingdom and bringing peaceful flourishing. His actions symbolize both strict justice and the uniting forces of friendship and peace at once. He is once more the ideal king, the Dharmaraj, the Lawful Sovereign.
Conclusion
Thus there are two paths to immortality in Indo-European mythology which we should bear forever in mind. These are the Mitraic path of the King, who wins the golden age, and the path of the lower gods, the Horse Twins, who rise to immortality and join the high gods as priests of their sacrifice. The first is a purely solar path which involves the sovereign god of the daylit sky overcoming the Sun God himself as the King overcomes and reintegrates the solar principle, leading to deification, immortality, and societal regeneration. Though seemingly democratized (and many would even argue hybridized and bastardized) over time into the Mithraic Mysteries, we should consider that the original form of this path was at one point seen reverentially, as truly fit only for the sovereign or great hero, not to be trod by the unworthy and hubristic, and above all as a spiritual ideal with the capability of turning the king into a bridge to the gods, a center around which the kingdom and its spiritual aspirations could turn. The second path is one naturally within the purview of the common folk. The gods of the third function, somewhat as representatives of the people with whom they mingled, paved a road upward, leading to integration with the high rite. Their path, strictly speaking, is both lunar and solar: it is at the behest of and guided by the Moon god and god of the sacred liquid, Soma, and yet the Twins themselves are fairly solar in nature. They are associated with the time of sunrise and the morning star, and at least one of them, in the Veda, is said to be the harbinger of the sun, as night transitions into day. They ride in the solar chariot with the sun himself. But as Evola says, “In the “lunar” path...what matters is to turn oneself into an obedient instrument of higher entities,” which describes the character of the Grail mysteries quite well, as the quester makes himself a helper and subservient to the lunar Grail King. The Twins come as helpers but also as suppliants, just as the Grail quester does. They confront the high gods in order to assert their right to the sacrifice, but ultimately they are assisted by Soma himself in gaining this place and are installed as his instruments, as priests in an undertaking larger than themselves, serving rather than ruling. Simply asking the question of “whom does the grail serve” indicates the Grail quester's readiness for this position, his willingness not to simply assert himself as master, but to defer to the teaching of what is higher, and to take his proper role, one of service. The Horse Twins' initial question revealed to them by Sukanya is “in what way are we imperfect?” implying that they come to the high gods from a position of lack. When they arrive to the sacrifice, their riddling argument is that they are needed in the sacrifice because they constitute the “head” of the sacrifice. Hence they herein acknowledge their instrumental role, one part in a body of deities who together officiate the important office.
The semi-lunar character of the Grail myth may have been one reason that it was so readily christianized. Christianity being characterized by a thorough submission to that which is higher, while simultaneously being shaped by a marked degree of spiritual democratization, the Grail quester, modeled on the gods of the third social caste or common folk, was a perfect representation of the ideal everyman Christian in his seeking of God's grace, of spiritual perfection as an instrument of his will, and of mystical absorption in his perfection.
Inevitably, both the Roman Mithraic Mysteries and the legends of the Holy Grail show signs of the democratization of ancient esoteric paths, the loosening of the elite exclusivity of access to the rites of immortality. If we peer back past the latest forms in which they have come down to us, we find that these are paths which demanded the utmost of the initiate, and, no matter who they were opened to, stood always as shining ideals that would only ever be achieved in their fullest sense by the intrepid few.
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