From Orpheus to Paul
pp. 128-137
The person called Orpheus, whose existence was for Orphics and for whole ancient world as certain as that of Jesus for Christians and for us.1 Orpheus was believed to have founded the Orphic mysteries, whose very name testified to their derivation from him, just as Christianity asserts by its name its kinship with Christ, and Buddhism bears in its name the stamp of its founder. Furthermore Orphism had a group of sacred books (Katabasis, Theogony, Hymns, and so on) 1 which were partly attributed to Orpheus himself and contained accounts of his deeds (for instance, the De-scent to Hades), of religious traditions and dogmas (for instance, the Theogony), of ritual prayers (for instance, the Hymns), and so on. Quite unlike the Homeric poems, to take a striking contrast, these books never enjoy a high artistic reputation; nothing leads us to conclude that the Orphics found therein more than religious directions and prescriptions, and that they had recourse to them for artistic education.
These sacred books constituted a body of theological and dogmatic doctrines, the acceptance of which was the first condition for belonging to the Orphic brother¬hood. The Homeric poems, on the contrary, were never considered by the Greeks as sacred books, and, notwithstanding he high part they played in the history of Greek religion, no Greek transformed them into religious guides. The Orphic tradition is also notable for the poverty of its mythology. Compared with the great richness of Greek mythology Orphic myths appear very scant and simple. In the last analysis, Orphism had no mythology of its own, with the exception of a few theological accounts and tales, such as the description of the world of the dead, and some cosmogonies; other¬wise nothing comparable to the enormous richness of Greek mythology. This lack of mythical interest is off¬set by a living interest in theological and cosmological problems, as is shown by the very great antiquity of Orphic theogonies and cosmogonies, and their tendency to generate philosophies. Closely related to this theologi¬cal trend is an innate enmity towards new ideas or inno¬vations. If you remember that there was no great Greek poet to whom Greek mythology was not indebted for new myths, you wiD realize what an astonishing con¬servative trait Orphism had, which never invented new myths, but contented itself with its prehistoric tales, coming down from the eighth century before Christ to the Neoplatonists, without reflecting the great trans¬formations undergone by Greek mythology from Homer to Lucian.*
All this conveys the impression that Orphism was a religion whose origin, beliefs and history had nothing in common with Greek religion, aside from those mutual influences which are common amoung religions. In my opinion the whole history of Orphism points to something alien to the Greek spirit, which from the very outset followed a different line and which was not as¬similated until the Hellenistic age. In fact, Orphism never had a rich imaginative content. Its chief interest was theological and hence, philosophical; its influence was felt not in Greek art but in Greek philosophy. On the whole it seems to me sufficiently clear that neither can the history of Greek art be explained without Greek polytheism, nor the history of Greek philosophy apart from Orphism. Greek religion and Orphic religion represent historically two different worlds, which never understood and never fully accepted each other, and the history of Greek thought consisted, as I shall show, in a gradual victory of the Orphic religion over the Greek religion. Christianity marks the climax of this process.
Now we must revert to the problem which was raised at the beginning of this chapter: the origin of Orphism; and first, to the person of Orpheus himself. Scholars generally are in agreement about the mythical origin of Orpheus. The only exception, it would see, is Miss Harrison, who consistently advocated the historic¬ity of Orpheus. I am in perfect agreement with Miss Harrison’s contention for his historicity, although, in my opinion, she is very far from putting him in the proper historical light
Now, who was Orpheus, or, to speak more properly, that unknown person whom mythology for reasons unknown called Orpheus? Following our method, we must again venture beyond the bounds of classical philology and seek help from the comparative history of religions. It is hardly necessary to dwell again on the ghost dance religion. The only thing I now wish to point out is the striking resemblance between the ghost dance religion and Orphism.* The starting-point of this Indian revival was an after-life vision of a prophet, who claimed to have descended to the abode of the dead and to have seen the dead. He worked up the people into ecstasy and made them see the world of the dead and converse with the dead. These visions, accompanied and evoked by dances, became the cause of a tremendous revival. They were described in songs, giving rise to a sort of eschatological literature, which constituted the foundation of the new religion. The tribe wherein the revival burst out and the prophet who brought it about, attained a sort of preeminence, which was enjoyed by the disciples of the pioneers, even in later times. The aim of the revival was a moral and spiritual enlighten¬ment and an improvement of the mutual relations be¬tween men and tribes. These main features of the ghost dance religion reveal surprising resemblances to Orphism. Their origins: Wovoka, Tavibo, Sitting Bull, were believed, like Orpheus, to have descended into the world of the dead. The content of both religions consisted in after-life visions and conversations with the dead; the accounts in the Indian visions and the Orphic visions preserved in the Odyssey, as well as by Plato and Plutarch, are very similar. In both religions the leading part is played by ecstatic dances, as a means for attaining collective visions. We have already seen that the dance always had a prominent part in the mys¬teries, that there was no mystery without dances, and that Orpheus and the other masters of Orphism were believed to have been excellent dancers, themselves. We have also seen that the Orphic liturgy included songs dealing somewhat with the after-life. Jndian visions gave rise to a sort of rough drawing picturing the after¬life world as seen; and the Orphic visions gave rise to after-life paintings which were forerunners of the paintings of Hades during the classical age. The Indian visions became the starting point of an eschatological geography, in other words, of a science of the world of the dead; from the Orphic visions arose a’ system of the most detailed knowledge about this world. Tavibo, the first Indian prophet, had a son named Wovoka, who inherited the ecstatic power and the religious authority of his father; Orpheus, having received, according to the tradition, from (Eagrus the knowledge of the mys¬teries, handed over his wisdom to his son Linus, whose son Museus inherited his father’s power. Sitting Bull and Wovoka had some disciples who followed the mas¬ter’s teachings and became great prophets themselves, just as, according to traditions, Linus was a pupil of Orpheus and Museus of Linus.*
The resemblances between the ghost dance religion and Orphism are numerous and striking enough, but this does not mean that Orphism must be considered as a sort of primitive ghost dance religion, for these comparisons are valid only if differences are also taken into consideration. No one will deny that between primi¬tive Greeks, or more precisely Thracians (since I claim Orphism had a Thracian origin), and American Indians there are many points of difference. But one point seems to me certain: a resemblance of ways and means which cannot be quite accidental. For this reason I think we are entitled to assume, with proper reservations, that the origin of Orphism is in general similar to that of the ghost dance religion or other similar primitive religions. Iir short, if I am right, we are entitled to assume that Orphism was a primitive or ecstatic reli¬gion founded by some shaman, or medicine man, whom later tradition named Orpheus.
The tradition furnishes us some clues which seem to substantiate this theory. First of all, there is the tradi¬tion regarding Orpheus as a magician, who by means of music and divination brought about the orgiastic frenzy of initiations. Furthermore I might emphasize the tradition which attributed to Orpheus the discovery of mysteries and of the mystery theology. Diodorus says, for instance, that Orpheus introduced into the mysteries the punishments of the wicked and the fields of the blessed, and told myths about them.* Another tradition believed him to be capable of bringing back the dead* from Hades.T Orphics assumed that he had actually descended into Hades, and attributed to him the dead was described. Of course the legends which in later times center around the famous magician no longer bear the stamp of his primitive savageness, since his mythical character was continually remodelled accord¬ing to the demands of a more refined civilization. But with closer analysis, it is easy to recover the primitive spirit behind the late refinements. Especially the stories about the musical skill of Orpheus are suitable for such a reconstruction. Behind the poetical myth of a wonder¬ful singer -we must, picture the dreadful person, of a magician, who was able to rule over the whole world because of his musical endowments. In other words, the myth of the marvelous musical abilities of Orpheus must be considered in the light of the primitive magical conception of music, which is today still very common among primitive tribes. Even the legend of Eurydice, divested of the later dements, reminds us of a primi¬tive magician who was able to bring the dead back to life by means of musical sorceries.
All this converges towards the conclusion that behind the traditional Orpheus stood a primitive shaman, who first introduced into Greece an ecstatic religion consist¬ing mainly in visions of the after-life. I have used the word, shaman, but I must confess that, notwithstand¬ing some similarities which I think exist between Orpheus and shamans, we are probably not doing jus¬tice to him in using this word. Shamanism is too inti- mately associated with unintelligent superstition and magic to be adopted as a term of comparison for Orphism, which though it may have had the lowest possible origin, contained in itself the germs of higher moral evolution than shamanism ever knew.
For this reason, considering its moral implications, I think that Orphism could better be compared with the primitive Jewish prophets: I am alluding to the Nebfim> who were the forerunners of the great prophets. The Nebfim show a blend of frenzy and wisdom, savage¬ness and faith, which, if I am right, conforms perfectly to the image I have of this primitive prophet We must not overlook the miracles and magic qualities of the Nebfim, in this comparison, nor their ecstatic endow¬ments. From time to time the spirit of God came upon them suddenly and they felt different from ordinary men. They fell into a sort of frenzy; they undressed; they lay on the ground unconscious; they looked like madmen. This frenzy very often assumed a collective character and became a sort of ecstatic revival. Often they met in great numbers (once over four hundred) and they wandered through the country singing and playing and dancing. Often they had visions? In short, all the features of primitive medicine men or shamans are undoubtedly to be found in the Jewish Nebfim. But they have something more; I mean the capacity to lift themselves above this low level and to attain some¬thing higher. That is the main reason why I would regard Orpheus as a primitive Nebi.
It may now be well to devote a few words to the myth of Eurydice. There is general agreement among scholars in considering this myth as the product of a later age. At first Orpheus had nothing in common with Eurydice. In the Homeric Katabasis, Orpheus does not exist at all; in the .Platonic vision, Er sees Orpheus among other souls, but there is no hint of Eurydice; * in the nekyia of Polygnotus, according to* Pausanias’ description, and in the sixth book of the 2Eneid, Orpheus is described as a singer, but Eurydice is not mentioned. All this leads to the conclusion that the primitive Orphic myth did not recognize Eurydice at all, although the legend appears in the sixth century outside of Orphism as is shown by the well-known relief of Naples. The moving story of-the beloved wife, whom Orpheus tries to take away from Hades by means of songs and whom he loses- at last forever, arose outside of -Orphism. An old tradition says that Orpheus’ wife was not Eurydice but Agriope, and that he really took her away from the world of the dead.10 Agriope, a strange name, which means “with savage eyes,” savors very much of the wife of a powerful primitive shaman. It seems to me very probable that the original myth referred not to Eurydice but to Agriope, and told noth-ing about the romantic loss of the beloved wife; but quite to the contrary, related that Orpheus had by means of his magical power taken his wife from the world of the dead. In other words, the myth arose, in my opinion, in connection with the power attributed to Orpheus of taking the dead away from their abode and leading them to life again. Perhaps the Agriope myth arose through the astonishment at the first visions produced by the powerful musician, which, of course, in accordance with primitive mentality, were considered as real journeys to the after-life taken by persons whom Orpheus had re-called to life. And nothing* is more reasonable than to surmise that his wife, “the woman with savage eyes,” became one of the first living witnesses to the mysteri-ous power of her husband. Later on, I imagine, the Agriope story met the Eurydice myth, which originally had nothing in common with Orphism, and from their meeting arose the myth of the death of Eurydice and the futile descent of Orpheus into Hades.