DIONYSUS THE MAN
It is a pity that I cannot allow myself enough room to deal with these
mythological questions more fully. I have been obliged to give but the
merest outline both of the Promethean and the Dionysian myth. I can
only hope that the details I am able to give will prove sufficient
to enable the reader, not only to learn something about the myths
themselves, which other books on the subject do not tell him, but also
to follow the reasoning which I have based upon the bold outlines given.
In the Dionysian myth, I am faced with a peculiar difficulty, because
so little of the scholarly explanation and interpretation of it appears
to be of the slightest use.
If all the stuffy archæologists of the year 14,017, having found the
remains of a machine-gun of the year 1917, insisted upon explaining
it as an instrument for rapidly sowing a field with broad beans,
because they refused to believe that the people of Europe in 1917,
who were said to be so highly cultivated, could possibly have used
such a disgusting instrument for warfare even against savages, much
less against one another, it would be rather uphill work for one
single individual, who was not an official archæologist, to prove
that the instrument really was used for the purpose of killing young
men, and that, moreover, in a certain war which occurred about
the years 1914-1918, millions of healthy, brave and charming men
were actually killed in this manner. Such allegations against our
ancestors, particularly when they are supposed to have been civilised
and _Christians_, moreover, are so _very_ unpleasant! And since all
thought and the formation of ideas is becoming more and more hedonistic
every day,--that is to say, propositions and beliefs are no longer
accepted on their merits but according to whether they evoke pleasant
or unpleasant fancies in the minds of the majority[166]--we must assume
that if “Progress” continues at its present rate, the only test of the
validity or truth of a proposition in the year 14,017 will be whether
the average old spinster or old washer-woman considers it a comforting
thought or not. If she does not, it will be regarded as untrue.
I feel in regard to my interpretation both of the Promethean and of the
Dionysian myth, that I am somewhat in the position of the non-official
archæologist above mentioned, and that since the explanations I offer
are not as “pleasant” as those usually presented to the lay public,
they will run a considerable risk of being regarded by this same public
as not quite as “true” as the customary ones.
But I am inured to this attitude and I shall not allow it to deter me
from proceeding with the interpretation of the Dionysian myth and cult
on the lines I have laid down.
In the first place, however, I must warn the uninitiated reader against
the danger of believing that the bare outline I have given of the
Dionysian myth is anything more than a rough, deliberate, though pretty
thorough, simplification of the vast complex of legends and fables
with which the name of Dionysus is identified. So intricately involved
with one another are these various aspects of the myth, that it would
be impossible in the small compass of this book to deal with them
adequately. I was therefore compelled to treat the question on simple
and broad lines, leaving it to those who are interested to investigate
the matter further in the mass of literature, whether German, French,
English or classical, which has grown up around the subject.
All I could do was to select the essential features; they are
sufficient for my purpose; and I have satisfied myself from my study
of the authorities, that had I embarked upon my undertaking with the
determination to present the myth with very much greater elaboration, I
should have served no more useful purpose than to increase the bulk of
the present volume.
To return to Dionysus, the great medicine man, we have seen that he is
called the Healer. But he is also called the Doctor (ἰατρός), and not
only because he discovered the most potent and most pleasant _nostrum_
(Wine), but also because he taught men, as Plutarch says, to hold ivy
in high esteem.[167] We have also seen above that he was the great
patron of the bees and taught men the therapeutic use of honey.[168]
Thus we are to conceive of him primarily as a wizard in that art of
life by which precisely the richest sources of vitality which nature
possesses are tapped and turned to valuable account. We must disabuse
our minds entirely of the impression that his connection with wine, the
principal one in the popular mind for centuries, was anything more than
one of the many attributes of his manifold character.
He came some time after the world had grown impossible as the result
of the Promethean crime--just as Noah, after the parallel disasters
that overcame his people, once the sons of god had mingled with the
daughters of men, himself regards it as one of his first post-diluvian
duties to plant the vine.[169] But Dionysus’s range of remedies covered
almost everything that may properly be regarded as a source of vigour
and a means of curing or resisting disease. Personally, I am not
inclined to exclude even fermented milk from among the contents of his
vast natural medicine chest, though the oldest of all these I believe
to have been honey, fresh fruit and raw meat.
It is possible that barley wine, millet wine, fermented milk, and
even grape wine, may have been added to his supremely wise initial
discoveries by himself later in his own lifetime, or by other men
after he had died, and that possibly these later discoveries, if they
were later discoveries, became through tradition incorporated in his
original teaching, so that even the names of later medicine men became
absorbed in his own and identified with it; but what is of supreme
importance in understanding him and his cult is, that he it was who,
in a moment of extreme distress handed suffering mankind a number of
first-class protective beverages and foods, which not only corrected
the mistakes of their early Promethean civilisation, but also gave them
a new vigour, a new spirit, and a new intensity of sexual potency,
unknown except to their pre-Promethean ancestors.
I say honey was probably one of the first of these, because the use of
mead was so universally distributed among all the peoples of primeval
Europe, that it must have a very hoary antiquity.[170] Now it is
interesting to note that the association of honey with the idea of
medicine is also of very great antiquity. W. H. Roscher tells us that
from the earliest times honey was thought to have properties which both
secured good health and lengthened life, and that it was used in the
curing of innumerable diseases.
I am not a believer in etymological methods of demonstration, but
I quote the following as interesting in this connection. “The very
Avestic word for wine shows that it was a drink sweet as honey. This
Avestic word is _madho_, which corresponds to the Sanscrit _madhu_,
Latin _mel_, and French _miel_. The root of the word shows its
medicinal virtue. It comes from an old Aryan root, _mad_ or _madh_ =
Latin _mederi_, meaning to make a remedy, from which comes our English
word medicine.”[171]
Even in ancient India the drink Soma must probably have been introduced
later than mead, as we find the former sometimes called _madhu_ in the
texts.[172]
The ancients were well aware of the old association of mead and honey
generally with therapeutic powers of a high order. Aristotle, speaking
of honey and wine, etc., says: “To know how to apply them for the
purposes of health, and to whom, and at what time, is as difficult as
to be a physician.”[173] Pliny, too, writes as follows: “As to honey
itself, it is of so peculiar a nature that it prevents putrefaction
from supervening, by reason of its sweetness solely.... It is employed
with the greatest success for affections of the throat and tonsils, for
quinsy, all ailments of the mouth, as also in fever when the tongue is
parched. Decoctions of it are used also for peripneumony and pleurisy,
for wounds inflicted by serpents, and for the poison of fungi. In
paralysis it is prescribed in honied wine, though the liquor also has
its own peculiar virtues.”[174]
And further: “[Hydromel] which is made of skimmed honey is an extremely
wholesome beverage for invalids who take nothing but a light diet
... it reinvigorates the body, is soothing to the mouth and to the
stomach, and by its refreshing properties allays feverish heats. I find
it stated too by some authors that to relax the bowels it should be
taken cold, and it is particularly well-suited to persons of a chilly
temperament, or of weak and pusillanimous constitution, such as the
Greeks, for instance, call ‘mycropsychi.’”[175]
Pliny has other passages in which he refers to the value of honied wine
as a “stimulant for failing appetite,” as a “laxative,” and gives the
example of Pollio Romilius who lived to a great age, over a hundred
years, on honied wine and bread alone.[176]
Diogenes Laertius speaks of Pythagoras as being content with honeycomb
and bread,[177] while in the _Geoponica_ we read that honey makes men
long-lived, and that a diet of bread and honey alone preserves all the
senses perfect. “Democritus being indeed asked how men might become
healthy and long-lived, said: ‘If they supplied the external parts of
the body with oil and the internal parts with honey.’”[178]
Hosts of other passages could be quoted.
According to Spencer’s explanation of sacrifices, which in his opinion
were merely offerings to the great ancestor, either to feed his spirit
or to propitiate him, we would expect sacrifices of honey to have been
made to the gods of Greece by their worshippers, because since we are
told that honey was the food of the gods (we are informed that Zeus was
brought up on it) we should naturally expect it to be given to them
in sacrifice. And this is indeed what took place. Death offerings in
Greece frequently consisted of honey. Pluto, Hecate and the Furies all
received honey sacrifices. In fact honey is probably meant by nectar
and ambrosia. It was the oldest medicine of infallible effect, the
first panacea, the food that secured a long life, and therefore the
food of immortals.
It is a pity that more experiments have not been made with honey by
modern authorities on dietetics; because as I have already pointed out,
since it constitutes a satisfactory whole food for a certain section
of the animal kingdom, it is safe to conclude that it contains all
the necessary vitamines. It is probably on this account that it was
found so useful by the ancients for every sort of ailment and bodily
affection.
I mention raw meat as one of the earliest products to be included among
Dionysus’s list of therapeutic and natural foods. I shall at present
only refer to a few of my reasons for doing this. In the first place,
I would remind the reader of what I have already said concerning the
medicinal value of raw meat; I would also recall the custom, even
among such people as the Eskimo of the present day, of making raw meat
an essential portion of their diet, bearing in mind that the Eskimo
have a singularly restricted range of foodstuffs to draw upon and
therefore that they have to be careful to absorb a sufficient quantity
of “protective” food; and lastly I would refer to two of Dionysus’s
most perplexing epithets: _Omestes_ and _Omophagos_, both of which mean
_raw-flesh-eating_.
How can we account for these epithets unless we suppose that he must
have set the example of eating raw meat himself, or taught it as
part of his wonderful therapeutic doctrine? It is in keeping with
everything we have said about him and everything we know about him. It
is consistent with his general doctrine of health and vigour, and we
must bear in mind that he lived at a time probably near enough to the
pre-Promethean era to enable him to know that men must have lived on
raw meat in the Golden Age.
As far as raw meat was concerned, therefore, it did not necessarily
constitute a very original portion of his doctrine. Arguing from his
knowledge of the Golden Age, which tradition told him had preceded
the Promethean era, he may simply have concluded that, at least
experimentally, a return to one of the staple articles of diet of that
age might be a good thing; and in the event the experiment proved
successful. It must, however, have constituted an important part of his
dietetic doctrine, otherwise he would scarcely have been called, among
other things, _Omestes_ and _Omophagos_.[179]
His insistence upon the virtues of fresh fruit would also be the
natural outcome of his upbringing and his knowledge of plant and tree
life. It is said that his title _Dendrites_ was given him because
the notion of his being the cultivator and protector of the vine was
extended to that of his being the protector of trees in general. I
should be inclined to reverse this order and to say that the tending
of the vine was only one of his functions as _Dendrites_. However,
the point is not important. The fact to note is that fresh fruit must
be included among the earliest of the products associated with his
therapeutic doctrine. He was probably a great eater of fresh fruit
himself, and his followers became so likewise.
The transition from the idea of mead, or fermented honey, to other
fermented drinks, was doubtless an easy one, and even if Dionysus was
not the inventor of them all, it is easy to see how readily he would
have been credited with their discovery once his towering personality
had been stamped on the minds of the remote ancestors of the ancient
Greeks through his great reputation as a therapeutist and therefore
thaumaturgist. The two ideals, as the life of Christ shows, are closely
associated in the mind of antiquity, and very rightly too.
Now the therapeutic value of the wines brewed from the grape, barley
or any other seed, have been known for centuries by science and for
thousands of years by unscientific man.[180] Their tonic value has
been recognised by medical men of all epochs, while their virtues as
laxatives, aids to digestion (particularly needed when cooked food is
partaken of plentifully) and stimulants both of the body and the mind,
are proverbial.
All the virtues of the fruit or the grain, intensified by fermentation,
and, in the case of partially germinated grain, _actually created
by the process of preparation_,[181] are absorbed in the resulting
beverage, and protect not only against disease, but also add to the
joys of life, enhance bodily vigour, neutralise the bad effects of
injudicious cooking upon the digestive organs, strengthen the sexual
powers, and lighten the heart generally.
I think there can be no doubt that the great decline in the resistance
offered to disease which has been noticeable in Europe in the last
three hundred years, and has made careful sanitation, antiseptic
washes, and disinfectants of all kinds such an essential part of the
life of modern man that without them he could scarcely be expected to
survive, is largely due to a proportionate decline (_a_) in the quality
of our fermented liquors, and (_b_) in the amount of fermented liquor
that is consumed by the mass of the people.[182] For as we have seen in
the case of King Jamshed, the enormous advantage of fermented liquors
is this,--not only do they offer the precious protective qualities
of the fruit and the grain in an intensified form, _but they make it
possible for man to derive benefit from these precious qualities in all
seasons and climes_, that is to say, independently of the locality he
happens to be in or of the time of year at which he feels he requires a
restorative.
This is the great virtue of the cordials Dionysus introduced: _they
made it possible for man to resist deficiency diseases, in spite of a
diet that offers no compensations for the cause of the trouble, and
they also enabled him to do this at all times of the year and in any
clime_.
It has been argued again and again by authorities whose degrees and
honours literally fill their title-pages, that alcohol is not good for
the human body. I do not accept this view. There may be truth in the
view that large amounts of alcohol are bad; but that alcohol taken
moderately is bad, I do not believe. I would refer the reader to the
_Lancet_ of March 30th, 1907, where a large number of doctors repudiate
the allegation that the medical profession are opposed to the use of
alcohol. I would also refer the reader to Professor Attwater’s[183]
investigation into the liquor problem which was conducted with a
Committee of fifty, and finally to Dr. C. Mercier’s “Inaugural Address
on Drunkenness and the Physiological Effect of Alcohol,” delivered
before the Midland Medical Association in November, 1912.
In all these papers the reader will find considerable doubt cast upon
the glib assertion repeated so irresponsibly everywhere to-day that
alcohol is of no value to the human body, or that it is directly
pernicious.
It would be a simple matter, if one could spare the time over such
futilities, to show that the harmless gramophone, the innocuous piano,
and the apparently innocent cinema, were also harmful when indulged in
to excess; but what purpose would the demonstration of such a truism
serve?
I am, however, not deeply concerned with this campaign against alcohol.
I think it stupid, puritanical and misanthropic; but it affects neither
the credo of Dionysus nor my present argument. Its most pernicious
and dangerous aspect is that it would fain throw a net wide enough to
include the credo, the wondrous therapeutic doctrine, of Dionysus, and
thus bring other things besides alcohol to nought.
For what did Dionysus stand for? In addition to the other products I
have already mentioned he stood for wine, ale, cider, mead, perry and
ivy-juice. But how much of this hated alcohol is there in the modern
representatives of these liquors?
In champagne and burgundy: 10 to 13 per cent.
In claret: 8 to 12 per cent.
In cider and perry: 5 to 9 per cent.
In strong ale: 5 to 9 per cent.
In light ale: 2 to 5 per cent.
(The figures for mead and ivy-juice, I have, for obvious reasons, been
unable to obtain.)
From this list the reader will be able to judge of the dishonesty of
those who, under the cover of an attack on alcohol, would like, if they
could, to rope in those precious liquors with which Dionysus may be
said to have saved mankind under a Promethean civilisation.
Even the strong liquors, such as gin and rum, only have 40 per cent.
of alcohol in them. But I am not speaking of these. I am speaking of
the great known wines and of the precious liquors brewed from barley,
apples and pears. No one has yet advanced a sound scientific case
against these. How could they?--seeing that there is not a civilisation
on earth that has achieved greatness that was not built up on one or
more of these? But, as I say, under the dishonest cover of an attack
on alcohol, against the abuse of which several scientists of repute
have admittedly advanced cogent arguments, it has unfortunately
become customary of late to assail these precious beverages as well.
Ignorance could not be exploited with more diabolical ruthlessness.
The dictionary contains no epithet sufficiently insulting with which to
dub the maniacs who endeavour to confuse so vital an issue as this in a
manner so transparently unfair.
When it is known that the growth of alcoholism in France was coincident
with the phylloxera crisis which so seriously reduced the consumption
of the natural wines in that country; when, too, we bear in mind that
the evils of drunkenness in England are the direct results of the
poisoning and vitiating of the once pure old ale that can, without
romantic fulsomeness, really be said to have made England what she
was at her zenith in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries;
when I say I am prepared to prove the proposition that two of the
fairest civilisations the world has ever seen,--that of England in
the centuries of Elizabeth and Charles I.[184] and that of Egypt at
the dawn of history,--were the creation of ale-drinking communities,
how can anyone who really values his reputation for fair-play--not
to mention historical accuracy--still maintain that wine and ale are
legitimately included in a campaign against alcohol?
It seems a waste of time to repeat all the arguments I have already
brought forward elsewhere to show how great was the value of the old
ale of England, and how unscrupulously its precious virtues were one
by one destroyed, as the result of the reforms introduced by the
Puritans in the seventeenth century.[185] I have shown how very much
its qualities were impaired, in the first place by adulteration with
hops, later on by the introduction of inferior substitutes both for
hops and malt, until finally it became the poisonous, health-destroying
swill which we now call our beer,[186] and upon which we have allowed
our working-classes--the true backbone of England--to besot themselves
for over one hundred years.
I have shown how the Kings of the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries strove to keep this national drink pure and to supply it
plentifully to the masses of the nation,[187] and what universal
protest there was when, owing to the rise of the commercial and
profiteering spirit after the triumph of those enemies of man, the vile
Puritans of the seventeenth century, this precious national beverage
was turned into a draught of poison.
Our forefathers regarded ale with as much solicitude as bread; they
were equally valued as necessaries of life,[188] and their proper
distribution was the constant concern of English legislators.
There was no temperance agitation against the use of old ale in
England, any more than there was a temperance agitation in ancient
Greece against the use of the fermented drinks sacred to the name of
Dionysus,[189] for the use of both was attended neither by ugliness nor
ill-health. When the Puritans created a temperance movement it was, as
I have shown, for very different reasons from those which animate the
temperance movements of our own day.
But what is so strangely unfair and so transparently corrupt in the
whole of the modern temperance movement is that it never concerns
itself with the _purification_ of our national drinks, or of wine or of
any fermented liquor. It is as if those behind the temperance crusade
were glad to see the gradual deterioration of intoxicating liquors into
poisons in order that their case might appear the more plausible.
A truly patriotic temperance movement in this country would agitate
for a return to the pure ale of old England, and in France it would
concentrate upon the rigorous prosecution of all adulterers of
wine; for, to inveigh against intoxication, or the evils of beer
and wine-drinking, when the beer and wine available are admittedly
adulterated,[190] is obviously to take advantage of an accidental
feature not inherent in the products themselves, to deprive mankind of
the advantage of those products in their pure condition for all time.
Commercialism comes on the scene, unscrupulously deteriorates our
national drinks and turns them into harmful, or at least neutral drinks
for its own base ends; and then, if you please, has the impudence to
declare (as it has done in America) that for commercial and industrial
purposes the proletariat are more serviceable material if they are
deprived of these beverages.
Of course, this is admitted. But then who is responsible for the supply
of these deleterious or valueless drinks to the proletariat in the
first place?[191]
I wonder whether there is a single workman either in England or America
who has ever drunk a draught of ale such as Queen Elizabeth and her
ladies-in-waiting used to drink at every meal!--I know there is not
one,--not one! But it should be remembered that the old ale of the
Plantagenet and Tudor periods kept men in a state more exuberant, more
spirited, more lusty, than mere everyday health; it kept them above
all unusually potent sexually. This was what the Puritans were clever
enough to detect; and it was, I feel sure, by no means an accident
that one of the chief adulterants of ale tolerated by the Puritans
consisted of hops, from which _lupulin_--one of the most potent
anaphrodisiacs--is extracted.
It is impossible to believe that the great fermented drinks of
antiquity could have been anything but a precious boon and a godsend to
men, otherwise we are forced to regard as cynics and misanthropists
the races who deified the supposed original creators of them.
Read how the ancient Indian speaks of his Soma, remember how the
ancient Greek refers to his god Dionysus as the Saviour, the Healer,
and the Liberator; study the history of mead in Scandinavia, in Persia
and in Asia Minor; follow the civilisation of China up to the time when
it ceased to be a wine-drinking country, and compare its subsequent
with its former condition;[192] read of the Mexicans, the Peruvians,
the great Babylonians[193] and Egyptians and even the artistic Bushmen
of Africa, now alas! almost extinct;--everywhere, among all peoples,
you will find civilisation, art, culture, only where the health and
spirit-giving beverages of nature’s fermented fruit and grain have
made such achievements possible; for, as I shall show later, it is not
only in Greek mythology that Prometheus and Dionysus are opposed--this
conflict permeates every aspect of life ancient and modern, and it is
not merely coincidence that the most Promethean of modern countries,
America, should have been the first to suppress the cult of Dionysus
among its people.
On those who wish to argue that the great civilisations of the world
would have been possible without the fermented liquor, which is an
inseparable part of the diet of the people who were responsible for
them, it is surely incumbent to prove that a form of beverage so
distinctive and possessing such marked therapeutic value, was adopted
universally _without any regard whatsoever to the utilitarian ends
served by its adoption_. They must be prepared to show that the
consensus of opinion among thinking mankind of all ages points to
the conclusion that, although this form of beverage met no social
or cultural need, its universality is due to some perversity, some
superfluous and non-utilitarian appetite, which did not require to be
gratified in order to produce the results with which we are confronted
in all ancient and comparatively recent civilisations.
To argue merely on the evidence drawn from modern conditions is
vicious; in the first place, because beverages prepared from pure
natural products (fermented) are no longer accessible, except perhaps
to those who can afford to buy some of the good Continental wines;[194]
and, secondly, because the standard of health expected from the average
man and woman of antiquity and regarded as an essential factor of
happiness in the past, is no longer recognised or upheld among Western
peoples as the first necessity of a life worth living.
Another and very important aspect of this question to which one would
like to see the Temperance agitators give some prominence, is that of
the substitutes which modern conditions offer to those who are deprived
of sound and invigorating fermented liquors.
Read the books that have been written against alcohol. Where do you
find a single author who is honest enough to lay stress on the dark
side of his intended reforms? Where do you find an author who is
sufficiently in earnest about the welfare of his fellow-creatures to
point to the disastrous results of drinking tea and coffee--not to
mention any more harmful drugs? For every sound line that has been
written against alcohol, I am prepared to point to two that have
been written against these two pernicious beverages. As early as
the beginning of the last century, William Cobbett, in his _Cottage
Economy_, called attention to the evils arising from the increasing
consumption of tea and coffee in England, and deplored, as all friends
of humanity must, the corresponding decline in the production and
consumption of good English ale.
In my _Defence of Aristocracy_ I devote a considerable portion of a
chapter to this question of the pernicious substitutes to which the
masses of a nation are driven when their most wholesome beverages are
taken from them; and for the authorities whom I there adduce in support
of my arguments I beg the reader to refer to the work mentioned.[195]
When we recollect that tea, besides being in no respect a food, is
also, owing to its two principal chemical constituents--tannin and
caffein--directly harmful both to the digestion and to the nervous
system; when, moreover, we bear in mind that over 255,000,000 pounds of
tea are consumed per annum in the United Kingdom, and that it has been
calculated that the poor in London spend at least one-eighth of their
income in buying this drug, it behoves us to regard with considerable
caution any movement which, while it makes no reference to this aspect
of “Temperance,” seeks under the cover of a scientific attack on
alcohol to proscribe good wines and beers from the homes of a great
people.[196]
To sum up this all too brief outline of some of the leading features
of Dionysus’s therapeutic doctrine, we have seen that the wine of the
grape possesses the following virtues in a pre-eminent degree:--
1. It is a good tonic.
2. It is a valuable stimulant, both of the mind and body.
3. It is an excellent aid to digestion and assimilation particularly in
cases of constipation and dyspepsia caused by culinary errors.
4. It is a natural aphrodisiac.
5. It allows of the benefits derived from fruit being enjoyed at any
time, in any clime, and therefore does not restrict the consumer to any
locality or season.
6. And, above all, since the process of fermentation is believed
to be, in itself, productive of vitamines, it constitutes a good
compensation in cases when a diet is in any respect deficient, either
through the exposure of a vital food to heat, or because the necessary
vitamine-vehicles are not available.
Ale also possesses all these qualities,[197] and in addition, a strong
anti-scorbutic and nourishing virtue, owing to the fact that it is
prepared from partly germinated grain, and, moreover, contains the most
valuable form of sugar which is known as maltose.
Modern beer, of course, possesses none of these qualities.
It is unnecessary for me to continue the list, and to refer to mead,
cider, perry, millet-ale, etc., all of which truly formed part of
the Dionysian doctrine. I have said enough about the other beverages
already, I hope, to convince the reader at least of this, that when the
ancient Indian or Greek glorified his god Soma, or his god Dionysus, it
was for genuine and lasting benefits,[198] the evidence of which he saw
in himself and all his fellows, and that there can be no mystery, no
childish or empty phantasy about the worship of such a divinity, least
of all when the evidence of the myth connected with his name definitely
points to the nature of the bounties he dispensed.
Again, however, I feel I must lay stress upon an important aspect of
this question which, particularly nowadays, is likely to be overlooked
unless it is constantly reiterated. I refer, not to the cure of actual
deficiency diseases, for which the Dionysian doctrine was responsible,
though that was wonderful enough, but to the general alleviating
and invigorating effect upon the body as a whole which results from
correcting such slight though deeply depressing and debilitating
disorders as indigestion, constipation and the like. One of the first
functions to suffer in the case of faulty nutrition or in the event of
blood-poisoning, however slight, owing to a bad diet, is the function
connected with the joys of sex. And, when we think of how numerous and
how intense these joys can be, both in the spiritual and the physical
sphere, if the body is in a condition of exuberant health; when we
recollect, moreover, how many of the manly virtues and the womanly
interests centre around these functions, it is difficult to lay too
much emphasis on their importance, or to exaggerate the literally
delirious enthusiasm which must have possessed a people who, suddenly
bereft of the perfect exercise of these functions, found themselves
after a long spell restored to their pristine state of happiness by
Dionysus, and assured by his teaching against a relapse into their
former misery.
For, again, in regarding precisely these joys of sex, we must be
careful not to contemplate them either through the glasses of this Age,
or through the glasses of our own deteriorated vitality. We must try
to imagine what sex and its joys must have meant to primitive beings,
beings still unimpaired enough, despite their crude Promethean culture,
to tower far above us in all matters of the body and its functions.
Humiliating as it may seem, we must remember that we are _below par_ in
every respect, and that our standards are completely valueless except
for measuring varying degrees of ill-health.
Well then, if we bear all these things in mind, and in addition ponder
for a moment the extreme importance that healthy women must attach to
healthy sexual potency in men, if we reflect for a moment how much the
happiness of a robust, healthy woman’s life depends upon tenderness,
love and caresses from the male, and ultimately upon the bearing and
rearing of children,[199] we will at once perceive how severely sound
women are affected when men’s sexual potency is impaired. At least men
can get about other business; but what is woman--particularly primitive
woman--to do?
The period following upon the Promethean crime must have been one of
appalling tribulation for the women members of that primeval stock
which constituted the remote ancestors of the ancient Greeks. With
their men grown cold, unresponsive to their charms, and in some cases
perhaps quite impotent, what could they do? What had become of the
beauty of their lives, the joy of their lives, the _meaning_ of their
lives? Everything of value for them had at one stroke of the wand
been turned to dross and to emptiness. Life was a husk at which their
vigorous teeth gnawed in vain endeavour to discover the sweet kernel.
They thirsted to be taken, to be overcome, to be ravished. Instead they
probably had to woo, to cajole and to persuade. They were outraged in
their deepest instincts, by the inability to perform a function that
was the very essence of their being; they languished with but the
spectacle of their gradually vanishing youth and beauty to distract
them. The racial memories of a better age filled their fancy, so that
they were thrilled by the pictures their imaginations depicted; but
these pictures became realities to them only in their dreams, and
but helped to heap up the enormity of the contrast which actual life
presented.
Then, suddenly, a great teacher appeared from the woods, who took pity
on their lot. He saw with the eyes of a superior being the root of the
trouble, the cause of their men’s perennial lassitude and self-control;
and with his deep knowledge of nature and her secrets acquired in
the forest glades he had just left behind him, he set out to remedy
the evil that he recognised, and to put an end to the suffering that
offended his vision on all sides. He preached his doctrine swiftly and
with authority, for there was no time to lose. He taught the women the
magic virtue of herbs, of fruits, of raw meat, and above all of honey
and of mead. They listened, for he was young and handsome; and they
obeyed, for they were desperate. Quickly the new teaching was learned,
the kitchens hummed with unwonted business, the din of shattered
pottery rent the air as superfluous stewpans were flung for ever on
the dust heap, and the forest rang with the voices of eager wives and
virgins, trying to recall precisely what it was that the handsome young
man from the woods had recommended.
Fingers and arms were repeatedly stung by the infuriated bees, legs and
feet got caught and entangled in the pricking brambles, hair fell down
and became woven with leaves and branches, night came on and some were
lost, while others pursued their search with firebrands and bonfires.
What did it matter now--what did anything matter? Zeus had promised
only Hope:--this man, this wonderful, handsome, young man from the
woods had promised something tangible, something almost forgotten,
something immensely precious,--could they be blamed for behaving like
furies?
That night the first of the Dionysia was celebrated: dishevelled women,
frantic with the promise of joy and already delighting over fulfilling
a portion of their creed, made their supper of raw meat in the heart
of the woods, while they searched and searched for the precious
ingredients of the coming elixirs. Mad and wild women, forgetting both
decency and humanity, rushing and darting hither and thither, like
untamed animals, filling their baskets in the fury of delirium, and
eager but for one great moment--the moment of the experiment when they
would test the truth of the wood-wizard’s words--sang, shouted and
danced in a transport of joy.
Imagine then their redoubled enthusiasm when they found that he had not
deceived them! Picture the intensity of their ecstasy and gratitude
when they saw that he was a true prophet!
Can it be wondered at that Dionysus was the exception among the Greek
gods, and that he was served only by women? Is there any mystery now
in the “mysteries”? Does the reader understand why the virgins, and
not the hall-porters of the period, bore the phallus among the fruit
in their baskets at the Dionysia? And is not even the fury of the rite
explained, as also the fact that it was held in the darkness of night?
Are not these mad dishevelled women which we see depicted by Greek
art as taking part in the festival of Dionysus just what we should
expect? Drunk with enthusiasm, mad with gratitude, wild with eagerness,
even down to the eating of raw meat which was one of the essential
features of the festivals--all is now surely clear enough. _Omestes_,
_Omophagos_: the reader remembers these epithets! Can he doubt now that
this ceremony of eating raw meat at the Dionysia was intended to recall
that essential portion of the great teacher’s creed?
It was Dionysus against Prometheus, Life against Death, the erect
obelisk against impotence, sickness and disease. And Dionysus
triumphed! No wonder the women were so grateful; no wonder they were
so wild; but they were better and healthier women, they were also more
wicked and more sinful, more positive and more hearty women, and, on
that account, more desirable women than the women of to-day.
* * * * *
It is generally known that at the festivals of Dionysus, which were
called Bacchanalia, Dionysia, or Orgies, the god was served by
priestesses called Bacchantes, Lenæ, Mænades, Thyiades, Mimallones,
Clodones or Bassaræ. These women are usually represented almost naked,
decked with garlands of ivy or vine-branches, a thyrsus, hair in
frightful disarray, and wildly dancing and running. They utter strange
cries, rage with mad enthusiasm, clash different musical instruments
together, and hold swords or serpents (both phallic symbols) in their
hands. In the processions they wore tamed serpents in their hair,
while the Canephoria, as I have already mentioned, were virgins who
carried baskets of fruit with a phallus, usually carved out of fig-tree
wood, lying among the fruit. One of the most important rites at these
festivals was the sacrifice of an animal sacred to Dionysus, and its
carcass was usually torn frantically to bits by the Mænades and eaten
raw.
This celebration of the Dionysian mysteries presents a number of
problems which are hardly dealt with satisfactorily by the mythologians
whether of antiquity or of the present day.
In the first place, why should Dionysus be an exception among the gods
of Greece, and, contrary to custom, be served by priestesses instead
of attendants of his own sex? F. A. Voigt is one of the few who raises
this problem; but he does not attempt to solve it. He simply says that
it is characteristic of all the oldest practices of the cult.[200]
Secondly, why should these women attendants be such furies? Why should
they behave like raving madwomen? Voigt says: “The tearing of the
sacrificial animal by the Mænads appears to be genuinely orgiastic,
like the outcome of wild and Heaven-ordained madness.”[201]
What is the explanation of this? Nor should the actual eating of the
torn fragments raw be regarded as an unimportant part of the ceremony,
simply because in plastic representations of this aspect of their cult
the Mænads only appear with pieces of the mutilated beasts in their
hands; for, as Voigt points out: “The fact that the eating of these raw
fragments is not depicted, is simply owing to the æsthetic difficulty,
or impossibility, of representing this plastically, and does not
point to the relative unimportance of the omophagic feature of the
celebrations.”[202]
Modern mythology offers no satisfactory replies to these questions.
It attempts to explain the orgies by suggesting that they were an act
of sympathising with life and of recapitulating life in nature, its
movements and contrast, the joy and sorrow of life on earth. Or, again,
it suggests that they constituted a periodic debauch to symbolise the
fact that man is master on earth and is able to do everything he likes,
and consequently that he can without scruple commit every act which law
and order at ordinary times forbid.
Neither of these suggested explanations is worth a moment’s
consideration, because they do not even account for the exclusively
female attendants, let alone their characteristic demeanour.
Modern mythologians suggest that the tearing of the sacrificial animal
to pieces symbolises the tearing of Zagreus (Dionysus) to pieces by the
Titans.[203] But surely, if that were so, the Mænades would scarcely
have celebrated this tragic occurrence, so disastrous to the world, by
eating the raw flesh of their god and eating it with such fury! This
obviously will not do.
It is also suggested that the annihilation of the sacrificial animal
(or man originally[204]) symbolised the destruction of earth’s
vegetation by winter. But then, as Voigt very reasonably points out,
if that were so why was the youth of the animal or man always insisted
upon? If the young animal or boy symbolised the earth’s vegetation, it
must have been the vegetation of spring, not of winter. But this was
not the idea.[205]
Again, the rural Dionysia, it has been suggested by modern
mythologians, are no doubt to be compared to similar festivals
which were traditional in France and in Germany, and are probably
counterparts of them.[206] In France, for instance, on the _Dimanche
des Brandons_, which is the first Sunday in Lent, the peasantry used to
run through the fields, gardens and vineyards with lighted fire-brands
“to call them to fertility and to rid them of weeds”; while bonfires
were lighted in the market-place, and around these the people would
dance. In Germany and the Tyrol the peasants also used on certain
specified occasions to march in procession through the fields, clanging
cymbals and ringing bells, in order to “awaken the corn.”
But I see not the faintest trace of resemblance between these rural
festivals in France and Germany and the Dionysia. In the first place,
if the Dionysia are counterparts of these, why do women play the chief
rôle in the Greek festival? Have not men also good reason to awaken
the corn? And, furthermore, where is the all-pervading worship of the
phallus which is inseparable even from the rural Dionysia?
These rural Dionysia, it has been said by certain other great
authorities, were simply bucolic celebrations of the wine harvest.
But as Mommsen points out, and I thoroughly agree with him, they
were nothing of the sort. Read what occurred at the festivals, note
when they were held, remember what was drunk at them, and it becomes
plain that they had nothing in common with the celebration of a
wine-harvest.[207]
Meanwhile, of course, a satisfactory answer to the most perplexing
features of the Dionysia has not been found, and is not offered by
modern or even ancient mythologians.
If, however, we regard the whole of the Dionysian mysteries as a
traditional celebration of a stupendous event, an immense triumph--the
victory of a suffering, debilitated and gradually disappearing race
over the causes of all their misery;--if we regard them as ceremonies
symbolic of the mad joy and gratitude which must have been felt when
Dionysus first conquered Prometheus, then, it seems to me, everything
becomes plain.
It is the women who suffer most from the asperities of a Promethean
civilisation, just as it is the women who are suffering most to-day.
It is the women, the very essence of whose nature is tortured and
outraged when, owing to a Promethean civilisation, their men cease from
being men, cease from being male, prehensile, virile, violent and even
seductive.
If, then, we can postulate, as we very well may, a creature more
innocent in her desires, more unsophisticated in her appetites, less
tolerant of male self-control and less enamoured of it, than modern
woman; if we can picture a creature frank and passionate enough to
show mad enthusiasm when the deepest roots of her nature, from being
poisoned to death, are suddenly liberated, nurtured and brought back to
healthy life, and we are also able to imagine her wild gratitude to him
who effected this salvation,--then what mystery does there remain in
these Dionysian mysteries, what difficulty, what problem?
As I have already said, even Dionysus’s most perplexing epithets,
_Omestes_ and _Omophagus_, become once more quite clear, after having
had their true meaning concealed for millenniums; and he, the great god
himself, emerges from the investigation, not as the patron of pointless
lust, debauchery, drunkenness and licence, but as the Liberator, the
Healer, the Great Doctor, the Saviour of mankind, who released the
human race, and particularly the women, from the appalling consequences
of the Promethean crime, and whose name will therefore rightly be
associated for ever by grateful humanity with the magic cordials for
which his great genius was primarily accountable.
This was the first Renaissance, the first re-birth of health, beauty,
vigour and joyful life; and by the side of the stupendous artist who
was responsible for it, men like Donatello, Michael Angelo, Leonardo da
Vinci and Raphael, appear as mere gnomes, pygmies, dwarfs or children.
The Promethean civilisation was a failure,--it was worse, it was a
racking torment. Dionysus alone made it bearable; he alone overcame
it, and so corrected or neutralised its evils as to make life not only
possible under it, but also joyful, vigorous, spirited, glorious, and
thrilling into the bargain. You cannot logically attack Dionysus,
therefore, and all he stood for, without also insisting upon going
back to pre-Promethean days; for those were the only days that could
dispense with his teaching, his therapeutics, his magic cordials--in
fact, his whole doctrine of salvation. To deprive us in post-Promethean
days of the benefits Dionysus confers, is thus tantamount to the
Promethean crime itself,--it is even more heinous than the Promethean
crime; because _now we know_, and the people of those days did not
know. Now we realise what all this means; we are aware of the very
doubtful blessings that hail from any Promethean quarter, and wherever
we hear the cries “Abolish Dionysus!” or “Down with his creed!” we
cannot refrain from thinking that we are once more in the presence
of the most savage enemies of mankind. The antithesis is radical.
Prometheus _versus_ Dionysus. It is, as we have seen, a very old
conflict. If you insist upon having a Promethean civilisation, you are
in mercy bound to have Dionysus and all that his doctrine means.
FOOTNOTES:
[166] As an instance of this, how many people, I should like to know,
have ever tried to divorce from the idea of Heaven and an after-life
the pleasant and comforting thoughts which cluster round it, and then
proceeded to question honestly and searchingly whether it can possibly
be true. Are not the pleasant associations of the thought responsible
for three-quarters of the bias in its favour? Let the reader by way of
experiment tell his circle of friends a truth either about humanity
or about the world which is distinctly unpleasant. He will find that
more than half the incredulity he encounters, particularly among smug
sentimental women, will not be based upon an impartial examination of
his evidence for the unpleasant truth, but upon the unpleasantness
of the truth itself. If he would like a truth to experiment with, I
recommend him to tell his middle-aged spinster-friends some of the
truths discovered by psycho-analysis.
[167] See Creuzer, _op. cit._, vol. iii., p. 92.
[168] According to a legend which was probably of primeval antiquity,
although it is only handed down by Ovid, Dionysus was supposed to have
discovered the use of honey as a food in Thrace. See Ovid Fast, iii.,
735 _et seq._
[169] See Gen. x. 20: “And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he
planted a vineyard.”
[170] See W. H. Roscher, _op. cit._: “Ein berauschender Honigtrank
spielte bei den Griechen vor Einführung des Weinbaues eine grosse
Rolle.” Article, “Nektar und Ambrosia.” See also Roscher’s remarks in
the pamphlet on Nectar and Ambrosia already quoted, in which on p. 26
he says: “Ein solches berauschendes Honiggetränk nennt man bekanntlich
_Meth_, und es ist nicht zu bezweifeln, dass dieser, wie bei andern
Völkern, so auch bei den Griechen der Urzeit, welche noch keine
Weinkultur kannte, die Rolle des Weines spielte.”
[171] See _Wine among the Ancient Persians_, by Jivanji Jamshedji,
(Bombay, 1888), p. 4.
[172] See Kuhn, _op. cit._, p. 131.
[173] _Nic. Ethics_, V. ix. 16. Translated by R. W. Browne, M.A. (Bohn).
[174] _Natural History_, Book XXII., chap. 50 (24). Translated by J.
Bostock and H. T. Riley (Bohn).
[175] _Natural History_, Book XXII., chap. 51.
[176] _Op. cit._, chap. 53.
[177] _Life of Pythagoras_, xviii.
[178] _Op. cit._, xv., 7. Translated by Rev. T. Owen. According to
Athenæus, the Pythagoreans were saved from blindness and other eye
troubles owing to their diet of bread and honey.
[179] Just as Völcker has pointed out that the true meaning of the
Prometheus myth was forgotten from the time of Homer and Hesiod onward,
I feel convinced that the true meaning of more than three-quarters
of the Dionysian myth was forgotten long before historic times. I do
not believe that Dionysus as the raw-meat-eating deity has ever been
satisfactorily explained, even by ancient writers, and all kinds of
far-fetched interpretations have been advanced, most of which strike
too wide of the mark to be worth considering.
[180] There is a curious old legend told of the Persian King Jamshed,
the fourth monarch of the Peshdadyan Dynasty (the Yima Khshæta of the
Avesta, and the Yama of the Vedas), which curiously confirms this old
association not only of wine with medicine, but of the first connection
of fermentation with therapeutics. It relates how King Jamshed was so
very fond of grapes which grew only in summer, that he once ordered
a large quantity to be deposited in a jar for his use in winter when
they were very rare. On sending for the jar after some time, he found
the juice of the grapes fermenting, and, thinking it was turning into
a poisonous liquid, he ordered the jar to be marked “Poison,” and
placed it in an out-of-the-way corner of the royal storeroom so as to
be beyond the reach of anybody. A maid-servant of the royal household
knowing of this, and feeling very much dejected owing to a distressing
indisposition, resolved to commit suicide by taking some of this
“poison.” She stealthily repaired to the royal store-room at night,
and took a generous helping of the contents of the “poison” jar. But
to her surprise instead of its killing her, she found herself on the
following morning so much better that she renewed the treatment until
she was completely cured. Thereupon she communicated the matter to the
King, who was greatly pleased with the discovery. It is said that in
memory of this event wine is sometimes called _Zeher-i-khoosh_, _i.e._,
“pleasant poison” in Persia, even to the present day. See Jivanji
Jamshedji, _op. cit._, p. 2.
[181] There are reasons for believing that the process of fermentation
in itself is also responsible for the production of vitamines.
[182] It is interesting to note in this connection that the Great
Plague of 1665 in England occurred one generation after the Puritans
had begun to play havoc with the people’s great protective beverage Ale.
[183] An excellent summary of the report of this investigation is to be
found in A. L. Simon’s _In Vino Veritas_ (London, 1913).
[184] One of the first occasions on which ale was mentioned in the laws
of England, was during the reign of King Ini of Wessex.
[185] See my _Defence of Aristocracy_, chap. v.
[186] Mrs. Rink has pointed out to me that besides the reasons given in
my _Defence of Aristocracy_ for the deterioration in the quality of old
English ale--the great wholesomeness of which she also demonstrates--it
should not be forgotten that the commercial spirit which led to the
introduction of hops into ale brought about the necessity of _cooking
the wort_, a process which satisfactorily destroys the valuable set
of accessory factors which the malt contains. Thus the resulting beer
is made practically valueless, as the Official Committee’s Report on
vitamines frankly admits. See p. 61.
[187] It was even given with success to infants and children. John
Locke, the famous philosopher, actually recommends it to be given to
children. See his _Some Thoughts Concerning Education_ (ed., 1693), p.
16.
[188] See W. T. Marchant, _In Praise of Ale_, p. 52.
[189] See Lewis Richard Farnell, D.Litt., M.A., F.A.S., _The Cults of
Greece_, vol. v., p. 122: “Nor did wine-worship clash at all with the
best morality or the hygienic doctrines of the people or the people’s
teachers, for drunkenness was never a serious social evil for Hellas,
nor did the philosophers preach against intemperance as a national
danger; nor again were the modern appliances known whereby wine has
become a thing vile and corrupt.”
[190] The wines not universally so, but the beer almost universally so.
Even Smollett, however, in his time, complained of the adulteration of
wines in England.
[191] The reason why a national movement for the purification of
intoxicating liquors could never succeed in countries like England,
France and America under present-day values, is obviously because
it would by its very nature be tantamount to an anti-commercial or
anti-profiteering agitation. And since the governing classes of these
countries have for many generations consisted largely of the chiefs of
commerce and industry, such a movement would never be allowed to effect
any useful reforms.
[192] According to the Rev. Justus Doolittle, _Social Life of the
Chinese_, vol. ii., p. 30, the Chinese do not now make wine from the
juice of the grape. See also Professor H. A. Giles, _China and the
Chinese_ (New York, 1902), p. 136: “Grape wine was used down to the
fifteenth century, if not later.” Now the cultivation of the poppy for
the manufacture of opium began in China in the seventeenth century. See
_Encyclopædia Britannica_, 11th edition, vol. vi., p. 177.
[193] See André L. Simon’s interesting work _Wine and Spirits_
(Duckworth, 1919), p. xi: “Quite recently the laws of Khammarubi, King
of Babylon about 2250 +B.C.+, have been discovered and deciphered, and
have aroused a great deal of interest. This sovereign appears to have
been the great legislator of his dynasty; his laws contain the most
precise regulations concerning the sale of wine, and show us the poor
retailer of wine to have been harassed by a very severe legislation
even in those times. Fines were not in vogue, but loss of a limb or
of life was the penalty incurred by the seller of wine who gave bad
quality or short measure or allowed riotous conduct on his premises.”
See also pp. xiii and xiv.
[194] The old ales of ancient Egypt and of pre-Puritanical England
were, however, in one respect healthier beverages than wine, owing to
their powerful anti-scorbutic properties.
[195] See particularly pp. 218-225.
[196] It is hardly necessary to add that tea and coffee do, of
course, contain no vitamines either of the disease-preventing or
growth-promoting kind. In view of this, and of the enormous popularity
they have enjoyed since the decline in quality of English malted
liquors, we must not conclude that the appalling statistics of
ill-health recently published by the Ministry of National Service are
to be ascribed entirely to industrial and urban conditions. In fact
the report actually calls attention to this point, and shows that
ill-health is also very great in rural districts. Seeing, however,
that rural districts consume just as much tea and coffee as urban and
industrial centres, this is only what we should expect.
[197] For a fuller discussion regarding the therapeutic value of ale,
see my chapter on the subject in my _Defence of Aristocracy_.
[198] Even _Daru_, the later Persian word for wine, which is now
commonly used in Gujerati, also has the etymological meaning of
medicine. See Jivanji Jamshedgi, _op. cit._, p. 4.
[199] In pondering these questions the reader should bear in mind
that all the bony, emaciated, intellectual women, with pyorrhœa,
indigestion, constipation and deep learning, who truthfully assure
him that they care neither for men nor children, are not to be
considered physiologically sound enough to be in a position to express
a trustworthy opinion on this matter. It is merely equivalent to a
dyspeptic assuring us that an excellent dinner is a matter of utter
indifference to him.
[200] See his article “Dionysus” in W. H. Roscher’s _Ausführliches
Lexikon der Griechischen und Römischen Mythologie_, p. 1035:
“Charakteristisch ist, dass dem Bakchos orgiastisch von Weibern gedient
wird, von den Βάκχαι, Μαινάδες, Θυιάδες, Λῆναι abweichend von der sonst
üblichen Bedienung der Gottheit durch Personen gleichen Geschlechtes.”
[201] _Ibid._, p. 1038: “Echt orgiastisch, als das Werk eines wilden,
vom Gotte verhängten Wahnsinnes, erscheint die Zerfleischung von
Opfertieren durch die Mänaden.”
[202] _Op. cit._, p. 1038.
[203] In this respect they do not seem to have advanced much upon J. F.
Gail, who, writing in 1821, said: “La distribution des viandes crues
aux omophagies devait être la commémoration de la mort de Bacchus.” See
_Recherches sur la Nature du Culte de Bacchus en Grèce_, p. 176.
[204] Themistocles, the celebrated Greek general, is said to have
sacrificed three boys to Dionysus even in his time. See Creuzer, _op.
cit._, p. 354.
[205] _Op. cit._, p. 1040.
[206] Even Voigt subscribed to this view, _op. cit._, p. 1040.
[207] See August Mommsen _Heortologie_ (Leipzig, 1864), p. 329.
See also p. 327: “Die Feier der ländlichen Dionysien hatte wenig
Aehnlichkeit mit einem Weinlesefest.... Bei der Weinernte löschen die
Arbeiter ihren Durst mit Trauben oder daraus abgeflossenem (süssem)
Most, der sie nicht berauscht. Für die ländlichen Dionysien aber ist
das wesentliche Erforderniss ... Wein.”