Mythic Cosmovision

Myths and legends

What is a cosmovision?
A cosmovision consists in notions (beliefs, thoughts, concepts) that a person, an especific culture or an
especific historic moment has to analize and describe the differents facts of life.
In literature, that group of notions will configure the comprenhension of the world. Those texts wich
belong to a cosmovision, show a way to interpretate the reality.

Mythical cosmovision
This kind of cosmovision reunites all those texts wich give sacred explanations beyond the rational
logic about the world existence, the humanity, the natural and the social life.
These texts are sacred, and that means that they are part of beliefs and religions. A lot of them give
examples of behaviour and because all what was mentioned before, they are very important for a
community, because they give people a reason to live and justify their existence.
Knowing how a mythical cosmovision is and works, help us to understand our roots, our ancesters and
why we have certain values and habits.

Myth
It is an ancient story about the origins of the universe, the world or the gods. Theyre sacred, because
they were produced into a religious culture and are part of the beliefs of a community.
Their main characters are gods, godesses or demigods. Theyre different kinds of myths:

Cosmogonics: storys that tell the origins of the universe or the world.
Theogonics: storys that tell the origins of the gods and their jerarquy.
Anthropogonics: storys that tell the origins of the human beings.

In myths, there is no time. The story has place too long ago, even when there was no time. This is
something relationed to the sacred: everythings that sacred has no time, because Its out of this world,
out of everything natural.
An example of this, is the greek myth of the worlds origins.

Legend
It is a story, produced into a certain culture, wich explain the origins of a little nature element or an
habit practiced by a community. Its not sacred, although it has supernatural elements and in ocassions,
gods or godesses appears in them, helping or punishing the main characters.
Their main characters are normal people, and in these storys, there are an approximated time.
Although there is no exact time, we can figured out an approximated time for the story.
An example of this, is the german legend of the Christmas tree.

The House of Asterion

Jorge Luis Borges

And the queen gave birth to a son named Asterion.

Apollodorus, Library, III, I
I know they accuse me of arrogance, perhaps also of misanthropy, perhaps madness too. Such
accusations (which I shall castigate in due course) are laughable. It is true that I do not leave my
house, but it is also true that its doors (which are infinite* in number) are open day and night to man
and animal alike. Anyone who wishes may enter. One will not find feminine extravagance here, nor
gallant courtly ritual, just quiet and solitude. Here one will find a house like no other on the face of
the Earth. (They who declare that in Egypt exists another similar are lying). Even my detractors
admit that there is not a single piece of furniture in the house. Another ridiculous tale claims that I,
Asterion, am a prisoner. Need I repeat that there are no closed doors? Should I add that there are
no locks? Besides, I did one evening step out onto the street; if I returned home before nightfall, I did
so because of the fear that the faces of the hoi polloi, faces discoloured and plain like an open hand,
had induced in me. The sun had already set, but the helpless cry of a babe and the coarse
supplications of the common herd signalled that I had been recognised. The people prayed, fled and
fell prostrate; some climbed up to the stylobate of the temple of Axes, others gathered stones.
Someone, I believe, hid himself under the sea. Not in vain was my mother a queen; I cannot mix with
the common people, though my modesty does so desire it.
The fact is that I am unique. What a man can pass unto others does not interest me; like the
philosopher, I think nothing is communicated by the art of writing. Annoying and trivial minutiae have
no place in my spirit, a spirit which is receptive only to whatsoever is grand. Never have I retained
the difference between one letter and another. A certain generous impatience has not consented
that I should learn to read. Sometimes I deplore this, for the nights and days are long.
Naturally, I am not without amusement. Like a ram on the charge, I run through the galleries of stone
until dizzily I tumble to the ground. I conceal myself in the shadows of a cistern or in the corner of a
corridor and pretend that I am being searched for. There are rooftops from which I let myself fall until
I bloody myself. At any time I can shut my eyes and pretend that I am asleep, breathing deeply.
(Sometimes I really do sleep, sometimes the colour of the day has changed by the time I open my
eyes). But of the games I play, the one I prefer is pretending there is another Asterion. I pretend that
he has come to visit me and I show him around the house. With great reverence I tell him: Now we
return to the previous intersection, or Now we head towards another courtyard, or I knew you would
like this drain, or Now you will see a cistern that has filled with sand, or Now you will see how the
cellar forks. Sometimes I err and we both laugh heartily.
Not only these games have I imagined; I have also meditated on the house. Each part of the house
repeats many times, any particular place is another place. There is not one cistern, courtyard,
drinking fountain, manger; there are fourteen (infinite) mangers, drinking fountains, courtyards,
cisterns. The house is the size of the world; better said, it is the world. Nevertheless, by dint of
exhausting all the dusty galleries of grey stone and the courtyards with their cisterns, I have reached
the street and I have seen the temple of Axes and the sea. This I did not understand until a night
vision revealed to me that there are also fourteen (infinite) seas and temples. Everything exists many
times over, fourteen times, but there are two things in the world that seem to exist only once; above,
the intricate Sun; below, Asterion. Perhaps I have created the stars and the Sun and the enormous
house, but I do not remember anymore.

Nine men enter the house every nine years so that I may deliver them from all evil. I hear their
footsteps or their voices in the depths of the galleries of stone and I run with joy in search of them.
The ceremony lasts a few minutes. One after another, they fall to the ground without my having to
bloody my hands. Where they fall, they remain, and the cadavers help to distinguish one gallery from
another. I know not who they are, but I do know that one of them prophesied, at the moment of his
death, that someday my redeemer would come. Since then, the solitude does not pain me because I
know that my redeemer lives, and in the end he will rise above the dust. If I could hear all the
rumblings of the world, I would detect the sound of his footsteps. Let it be that he take me to a place
with fewer galleries and fewer doors.
I wonder: what will my redeemer be like? Will he be a bull or a man? Will he be perhaps a bull with
the face of a man? Or will he be like me?

The morning Sun was reflected in the sword of bronze. No trace of blood remained.
Would you believe it, Ariadne? said Theseus. The minotaur hardly put up a fight.

* The original says fourteen, but there is ample reason to infer that in Asterions eyes, this adjectival
numeral is no different to infinite.

The Minotaur

The sad story of the Minotaur begins on the Isle of Crete. After the death of King
Asterius, a feud broke out between his sons over who was best suited to inherit
the throne. Minos boasted that he was the only logical choice, for he was so
loved by the gods, that none of his wishes could ever be refused. Praying to
Poseidon, he asked that a bull be brought forth from the sea so that in return he
could offer it up in sacrifice to the god. Poseidon heard his pleas, and just as
Minos requested a beautiful white bull suddenly appeared upon the frothy waves.
Minos was so captivated by it's splendor that he could not bring himself to kill it.
Instead he hid the handsome creature away and offered another in its place.
Poseidon was not fooled, and decided to make Minos pay for the insult through
the scandalous actions of his wife Pasiphae.
The angry god caused Pasiphae to fall so madly in love with the beast that she
could not think of anything else. So filled with passion was the queen, that she
paid a visit to the artist Daedalus , who because of his exile from Athens was
living in Crete.
Eager to help Pasiphae, Daedalus fashioned a piece of wood into the shape of a
hollow cow. The queen then crawled inside through a door that was made in the
hind quarters, where she waited until the bull of Minos entered into the meadow.
Unaware of the disguise, the lustful bull mounted the wooden structure and sired
a half bull-half man creature that would be known throughout the ancient world
as the Minotaur. In order to hide this abomination, Minos petitioned Daedalus to
construct the Labyrinth, a giant maze-like prison and confined the Minotaur to it's
center.
Unfortunately for Minos, his hardships did not end with the behavior of Pasiphae,
for at this time his son Androgeus was living in Athens and participating in the
Panathenaic Games.
Though he was very successful, winning all of the honors for himself, the young
man was accidently killed shortly thereafter. Suspecting that King Aegeus of
Athens was responsible for his death, Minos prayed to the gods and a plague
soon fell upon Attica.
As the situation grew desperate, Aegeus sent messengers to question the
Delphic Oracle. The words of the priestess were grim. In order to make up for the
death of Androgeus, Aegeus was to grant Minos anything he desired. Minos
declared that every nine years Aegeus was to send him seven youths and seven

maidens to be offered to the Minotuar. Sadly, Aegeus had no other choice but to
comply, for he knew he could not defy the will of the gods. When the time came
for the third tribute to be sent to Crete, Theseus, the son of Aegeus was among
the chosen. Like in many of the old stories, there are a few different versions of
how this event came to be. Some say that Minos himself journeyed to Athens
and personally chose Theseus because of his strength and courage. There are
others that say lots were drawn and Theseus was among the losers. The most
popular story is that Theseus volunteered to go along with the understanding that
if he should slay the Minotaur, King Minos would forever relinquish Athens from
her debt.
Aegeus begged his son not to go, but Theseus would have it no other way. As
was the custom, the Athenian ships always left for Crete bearing the black sails
of death.
Theseus carried with him on board a set of white sails. Before leaving, he made
a solemn promise to his father that if his mission was successful, he would fly
them on the voyage home as a signal of his well being. When the ship arrived in
Crete, unbeknownst to Theseus Aphrodite had come along for the ride.
The goddess worked her magic causing Ariadne, the daughter of King Minos to
fall madly in love with Theseus. Going to him in secret, Ariadne promised to help
him slay the Minotuar if he swore to marry her and bring her back to Athens.
Theseus readily agreed, and with that Ariadne handed him a ball of magic thread
which she had received from the artisan Daedalus . She then told Theseus to tie
one end of the string to the entrance gate of the maze. He was to allow the rest
of the twine to unwind behind him as he made his way into the center of the
Labyrinth. After killing the Minotuar, he would be able to retrace his steps by
following the magic thread back to the foyer and escape from the prison of stone.
Later that same night, Theseus along with the other Athenian captives quietly
entered into the dark passages of the labyrinth. Following the instructions of
Ariadne, he carefully unwound the ball of twine as he and the other intended
victims made their way through the narrow and twisted corridors. As Theseus
entered into the center of the maze, he found the creature to be fast asleep. It is
disputed whether he slew the beast with his sword, his club or his bare hands,
but whichever method was used the final result ended in death for the Minotuar.
Using the magic twine, Theseus retraced his steps back to the entrance where
he was met and embraced by Ariadne. She then led Theseus and the other
prisoners to the harbor, where their ship lay waiting in the mist.

Though the Athenians made it safely on board, they were soon met by Cretan
vessels dispatched to capture and return them back to the Knossos.
It was there in the darkness that Theseus found himself forced to engage in a
sea battle with the armies of Minos. The gods looked favorably upon the children
of Athens, and after some brief fighting the lot were able to sail away without any
casualties.
During their journey home, Theseus chose to stop over on the Isle of Naxos.
What happened there is a mystery. Ariadne was left behind on the island but
there are many versions as to the reason why. One tale tells us that Theseus
deserted her because he had fallen in love with another woman. Another story
tells us that after landing on Naxos, Theseus had time to think about his situation.
Realizing that bringing a daughter of Minos back to Athens would surely cause a
scandal he chose to leave her behind.
A third version tells us that Ariadne, being extremely tired from the sea voyage,
fell fast asleep on the island. An unexpected wind arose and pushed the ship out
to sea before anyone had a chance to wake her.
One of the more well known endings to this tale has to do with the
god Dionysus . After falling in love with Ariadne himself, Dionysus appeared to
Theseus in a dream and warned him to leave the maiden behind. Afraid to
disobey the wishes of the god, Theseus gathered up his crew and quickly
departed from the island. All agree it was the priests of Dionysus who found the
maiden frantic and alone upon the shores of Naxos. Feeling betrayed, she
prayed to the gods for revenge and her words soon reached the ears of Zeus. To
make Theseus pay for his transgression against Ariadne, Zeus caused the young
man to forget the promise he made to his father before leaving for Crete. In all
the excitement neither Theseus nor any of his attendants bothered to hoist the
white sails of victory, but instead proceeded towards Athens displaying the black
sails of death. Aegeus, who was watching for the ship from atop of the Acropolis
saw it approaching the shore bearing the ominous black sails.
Believing this to be a sign that his son was dead, the grieving king threw himself
into the water below, which to this day is still called the Aegean Sea after him.
Dionysus then married Ariadne, and it is said that she went on to bear him many
children on the Isle of Naxos.