to a present state of affairs.
The use of myth over the last five centuries by European writers has taken on an aspect that was never contemplated by those who developed the proto-myths. Most of the names of the heathen gods are nothing but poetical or ritualistic names which have been allowed to assume a divine personality to an extent never intended by the original inventors. Of course, myth today operates on a number of different levels. Children especially appreciate myth which to them is a make-believe reality. The questions, ‘Tell me about yourself when you were little?’ or ‘Is that what it was like in the old days?’ demand a mythical response because the information and concepts contained in the answer are beyond the child’s concept of reality. Similarly, a child’s view of a parent is that of an all-wise, all-knowing person, capable of almost anything. Growing up and adolescence in particular is that time when the myth of the parent undergoes a gradual destruction, often to the resentment of the child.
Yet myth, dealing as it does with archetypes, still functions on different levels in society today. Advertising especially uses archetypes and attempts to create a situation which, if duplicated by the purchase, wearing, eating or whatever of a certain item, will have consequences beyond our normal existence or expectations. Similarly, archetypal animals have been used to portray qualities or characteristics of nations and Sir John Tenniel in Punch last century was particularly skilful in such archetypal creation. Many of the characters of modern television soap opera dramas and pot-boiler novels are archetypal. The doctor of the soap opera is the modern magician, all-wise, all-knowing, possessed of the power of healing – a twentieth-century Merlin. The aggressive stick-at-nothing businessmen who sweep all before them embody the image of the all-powerful hero Herakles and his successors in the American Dream, Daniel Boone, Paul Bunyan and others. Furthermore, we develop our own mystical mythic attitudes. Science can solve anything, yet the Saviour Science has within it the seeds of its own downfall in the form of the archetypal Mad Scientist whose ancestor is the tragic Victor Frankenstein. For modern audiences, Doctor Strangelove is an instantly recognisable figure.1
Mythic ritual still continues in the religious sense, and is present, alive and well in the form of the Eucharist, the act of recreation. But beyond this, myth provides a richness within the human experience that goes beyond the perpetuation of archetypes or rituals. Myth has had a profound influence in and on literature and the myth in literature is especially important in any discussion of the works of Tolkien.
The first point that must be made is that despite the proliferation of mythologies, tales and names of deities, the types, themes and subject matter of myths are basically the same. The common themes of myth or mythologies are the study of the comparative mythologist who examines the basis of myth, layer by layer, and in doing so finds patterns that express the nature of a society as a whole. An examination of and search for the themes of myth inevitably becomes a search for that which is essential to the human condition and what the symbols embodied in those themes represent. Claude Levi-Strauss has observed that throughout the world there is a great similarity in mythic themes. In such a study one is inevitably drawn to the archetypes of myth. By using the word ‘archetype’ I am not referring to the Jungian psycho-analytical term, but rather in its common sense – an original or model symbol which constantly recurs. Mythologies carry such models of absolute values or paradigms of human activity. The presence of archetypes assures Man that what he is about to do has already been done, and therefore can be done. The heroes – Jason, Herakles, Perseus, Odysseus, Sigurd, Beowulf, Gawain – all ventured beyond the seas into the wastes or vast mountains, to the Perilous Realm in a fabulous time. All that Man can do is follow their example. Their grandiose feats, which took place in a far-distant and glorious past, can be imitated if only to a degree, and the models of behaviour that are revealed in the heroes give meaning to our present endeavours.
The most common theme in mythology is that of The Creation – the cosmogonic origin myth. This myth sets the pattern for everything else in most traditions, and, at the time of origin, irreconcilable opposites arise. The myth explains beginnings from the existing situation. No one can explain in mythological terms how chaos (be it the vast and dark nature of the Greek myths, or the ‘Spirit of God’ moving upon the face of the waters in Genesis) began, or from whence it originated. Always is presupposed the existence of something before. Creation myths explain the creation of the circumstances leading up to a state of affairs from a particular point. In all cases the cosmos is a divine work and the archetype of every creative situation. In many mythologies it is common for a supreme god to create and leave the governing, ordering or completion of his creation to others. In Tierra del Fuego, although there is an omnipotent god or creative force, his creation is completed by the mythical ancestors. In the Slave Coast cosmogonic myth the sky-god Olorum leaves the completion of his creation to Obatala, a subsidiary deity.
Eliade considers that the myths of primitive societies are always concerned with creation. Myths, he says, always relate how something came into existence, or how a pattern of behaviour, an institution or a manner of working was established. By knowing the myth, one knows the origin of things and can control and manipulate them at will. One lives the myth and is grasped by a sacred exalting power of events recollected and re-enacted. Thus, within the context of Eliade’s discussion, the creation myth is a blueprint for everything that follows and is essential for the survival of society. The myth contains vital and essential lore and knowledge.
At the other end of the time-scale is the eschatological myth – the myth of the ending. Of the non-Christian mythologies, the most dramatic eschatological myth, and the most bleak, is the Ragnarok of the Norse myths – or Gotterdamerung as it was called by Wagner. Ragnarok was presaged. All knew that it would come, and certain signs and events evidenced its advent. The year-long winter named Fimbulwinter, which was preceded by a hideous war, was one of the signs. Following Fimbulwinter are mighty earthquakes during which the wolf Fenrir, offspring of Loki the Trickster, breaks loose. A ship bearing the Undead from Hell and captained by Loki journeys to Asgard, the home of the gods. The forces of chaos in the form of fire and frost giants together with the World Serpent and Loki’s minions descend upon Asgard. Ragnarok is announced to the Aesir and the heroes of Valhalla by the single crow of a cockerel. A mighty battle follows in which the forces of the Aesir and their enemies consume one another totally. All that remains is Yggdrasil, the World Ash. After Ragnarok, it is said, Midgard will rise again, more beautiful than before. The land, cleansed of distrust and evil, will be a fit place for the habitation of men and gods together. The ancestors of the second race of mankind emerge from the trunk of Yggdrasil. In a sense Ragnarok contains a germ of hope in that there will be a new and better world rising from the ashes of the old. Yet it places present existence within a context of doom and without hope. There will be no reward at Ragnarok – death, doom and destruction will come to all.
The Christian Apocalypse contained in Revelation offers more hope. The final battle is preceded by the advent of Anti-Christ which, as in the Norse myth, is the resurgence of chaos. The Anti-Christ or false Messiah is often portrayed as a dragon or a demon. His coming results in the total overthrow of social, moral and religious values. After the great battle near Jerusalem, Satan is thrown down and God comes among Men in the New Jerusalem. The overthrow of Evil is a characteristic of the Persian apocalyptic myth. After a world age of three thousand years Ormazd, also known as Ahurimazda, conquers Ahriman or The Lie.
A comparison of the Christian and Norse myths reveals presages; the coming of chaos, the rule of Evil followed by its ultimate overthrow. The Christian Apocalypse gives hope for those who believe in Christ for they shall rise again to be judged. The Earth will be renewed, but there will not be the all-engulfing disaster. The Christian end, terrifying as it may be, has overlays of symbolic language and a message of Hope. Common to both myths is the concept of rebirth and renewal. Even the gloom of Ragnarok cannot destroy the phoenix of the human spirit and its hope for better things.
Within the span of aeons between Creation and Apocalypse are many common themes that predate historical time. There is, for example, a common belief in a Golden Age preceding our present brutishness. In some mythologies such a period implies blessedness or wisdom. Golden Age men in the Greek myths were subjects of Cronos, father of Zeus. They lived without care or labour, eating acorns, wild fruit and honey, never ageing, laughing and dancing. Death to them was no more terrible than sleep. The Greeks