Ironically a name dropped by Mathew Fox. (Not an actor, for me—but thank you for trying, Wikipedia.) That boy read some mother-fucking ~books~, son; that boy wanted da ~truth~.

But yeah: the cavils. I do think this is a sort of Greek mythology; I won’t called it “pre-Hellenic” myself, since it does seem to be a re-emerged view of familiar Greek goddesses, and not a revelation of unknown goddess names. However, it is certainly matriarchal Greek mythology, rather different, I think I’ll find, from the pretty patriarchal Greek mythology of Homer & Friends, right. It probably, indeed, has, in some sense, at least as much to do with goddess traditions of other lands, as it does with the remarkably negative and androcentric, perhaps we could call it, civilization of classical Greece and the centuries immediately before that period.

The preface does seem rather long, for a preface, and kinda heavy-handed, and I think I’ll find the introduction will be similar, but it looks like the actual myths retold will be very brief and poetic, once I reach the book’s slender body, you know.

So much for the cavils.

Perhaps I should also add, though—I mean, we all have different experiences and viewpoints; I’m not saying that mine is an infallible guide to objective reality or a substitute for my allies’ viewpoints, only that I think I’m relatively perceptive, and also unique, to the extent that that word has meaning. But yeah: I feel like I understand now, the need to dissent. And, perhaps this is too much the other way—from the reservedness and the cavils, you know—but I have to say, to make a broad comment…. In my experience, mentally ill men, I think, tend to be especially judgmental towards and condemnatory towards, their mothers, right. I mean, crazy people hate everybody—we’re all crazy; we all hate everybody. But really, diagnosable, clinically, graphically ill men, although they kinda leak negativity much of the time, towards everyone—even “normal, healthy” people, do…. But some people take it to another level, right—and they seem especially to be these men who hold a grudge against their mothers, right. I realize scientists aren’t terribly impressed by anecdote and things they don’t feel confident measuring, right: and that’s probably what this is, you know. (Gosh, all we need is a nice self-report survey/questionnaire, right…. Surely everyone is 100% able and willing to be honest about their real, deep, unconscious feelings about their mother, right! ~🤣 ~Why are you laughing?…. Why are you laughing at me?…. I’m a scientist!!!). But these disturbed males, you know, they all seem to go around muttering, My mother was supposed to take care of me! She was supposed to be good to me!…. But she ~failed~, the crazy bitch! The crazy bitch, ~lied to me~!!! —And then follows an annoyingly long graphically schizophrenic monologue that’s unfortunately not easy to tune out, or incidentally, understand, right….

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t—abused terms of the English Language, Exhibit A—‘bad mothers’, so to speak; ill mothers: I mean, if most people are bogus, right, and half of all people are female, and most people become parents…. And clearly there are unrealistic romanticizations of mothers and how good they are that lie to and hurt pretty much everybody. But the average person—I mean, a lot of daughters hate their moms, too; the Electra complex and all that, in addition to, I guess, the patriarchy complex, (the Homer complex?)—who rants against their mother~ do they stop and think how the female principle has been wronged, in any sort of sane/compassionate way?

Obviously not. The suggestion is moronic, on the face of it, you know. (shrugs)

…. And I mean, yeah: most mothers are bad because most parents are bad because most people are bad, basically. But you say ‘bad mother’ and people think it’s this rare, offensive, specific, isolated thing, right: like you got on a plane and went to Serbia and shot somebody, right: (surprised, shocked, offended) “I didn’t even know there was a Serbia!”

~Well, there is, bro. And actually, we’re not even fucking talking about it, so…. (shrugs)

…. But Charlene is a little repetitive. She could have just laid out her whole argument of the Jungian ignoring everything except the “pagan” vs Christian vs transcultural level, and not noticing the conflict between feminine and masculine culture—instead of name dropping every, single, analyst who followed this pattern.

(shrugs) I don’t find basically male culture to be, and only be, The Darkness Which The Light of the Goddess Cannot Pierce, or whatever: but I do feel myself that Greek patriarchy, and the early psychoanalytic years laid a very heavy burden of masc-y-ness upon society, and in the 70s and the years immediately after, when this was written/revised, the female revolt was very, very new, and seemed to rest almost in the air, you know…. It wasn’t secure in its place. Even today, it’s at best a subculture. Even today, all the reformist subcultures together are just one perhaps small part, depending on how you define “subculture”—the scientists probably think that they’re a subculture, even though they have probs more respect and prestige than the Christians, now—of the half of society that isn’t…. Voldemort, basically: no need to sugar coat it with analysis or brood on it, right….

…. The sermon intro to Pandora is funny—witchcraft as red revolution; jump on the bandwagon—it’s like a bus, lol…. Course it would all be illegal in the communist countries, but this is the form of dissent in our age and place, right…. And she is right that the classic era myth as I understand it is terrible. It’s misogynistic, and skeptical of life, basically.

Her version is much, much better.

…. And I am kinda glad I read Homer, because now I know that the matriarchs aren’t just hallucinating things, when they say those things; whereas if you don’t know, you have to suspend judgment. I think I’ll read Hesiod, too—not long, and I think it’s weird to represent a genre or even a sub genre by only one author, if you can help it. I doubt that people simply made up out of nothing Hesiod’s kinda misanthropic/anti-woman veins, but it’s a point of decorum. And maybe he wrote some nice things, and I’ll be reading him as a pagan and not as a cool Christian, like with Homer. This book will means a lot more for my personal practice, though…. It’s just nicer. Sweeter.

…. I copied down notes from some of the intros into my Turtle Path notebooks (shhh don’t tell them about Turtle Path 🐢 🤫), and the complete myth of Pandora, the complete myth of Aphrodite, and before I give the book away somewhere, I’ll copy out the complete myth of Demeter and Persephone….

It is striking how different it is. There was always death, but it was often a much more peaceful thing, you know. There isn’t the same sense of violence, the almost fantastic bloodiness of the classic era Greek myths, right….

What a fascinating, informative and beautifully presented approach to the Classic Females who predated Homer and Hesiod's Zeus dominated versions!

Illustrations are illuminating and fun to explore. ( )

Summary: a brief overview of eleven goddesses who pre-date Hellenic Greece and whose myths were transformed and absorbed into the Hellenic pantheon.

Thesis: these peaceful, life-giving goddesses were worshipped in the murky (to us) time period between the pre-historical and post-historical world. That world is believed by scholars to have been matriarchal. The goddesses were, according to the author, intentionally disempowered and made irreverent by waves of patriarchal bands of violent and invading Greek-speaking nomads from the north. (This is before there was such a thing as “Greece”.)

My review: Spretnak’s thesis is not her own; she draws heavily from scholars who, in the early decades of the twentieth century, began synthesizing information from literary sources, archeological evidence, art, and linguistics to make sense of pre-historical religion and culture. In that scholarship, it is proposed that the Zeus-worshipping religion that later became the classical Greek pantheon was not indigenous to mainland Greece but instead was imported over millennia, starting about 3,500 years ago, by invading nomadic warriors who absorbed the indigenous religion into their own.

Spretnak devises an effective structure - she introduces each goddess with a thematic summary, pre- and post-Hellenic, followed by a synthesis of each goddess’s pre-Hellenic myth. The synthesis is Spretnak’s own interpretation of what their myth was prior to it being polluted by the invading Zeus-worshippers. I used the strident term “polluted” intentionally because Spretnak is strident in her assertions. She writes from a strongly feminist perspective and makes her distaste for patriarchal social structures clear.

If you’re looking for a purely objective summary of pre-Hellenic religious beliefs in the Aegean region, this is probably not the book for you. However, I believe Spretnak’s book is worth reading as a beginner’s guide to pre-Hellenic scholarship, whether you agree or not with her political opinions. Through her bibliography, she introduces us to major scholars, who since the 1920s, have synthesized information from multiple disciplines to paint a picture of what religious life was like in the days long before Homer.

Spretnak’s interpretations of the myths of Hera and Persephone are particularly moving. Hera’s myth, because rather than the tropic shrew of The Iliad, we meet a loving, powerful goddess who lifts women up rather than jealously tears them down. And Persephone’s, because rather than a tale in which a woman is a tropic victim of male violence, Persephone makes a choice to give comfort to both the living and the dead and therefore give humans the gloom of winter and the joyous rebirth of spring. ( )

New Age Strangeness