A Beginner Mythologist’s Initial Definition of Myth

Scott M. Potter writes for
Dr. Christine Downing who teaches
Approaches to the Study of Myth MS 620
Fall Quarter 2002 at Pacifica Graduate Institute


A Beginner Mythologist’s Initial Definition of Myth


Well, well…writing a paper about the theory of myth, aye, well then, which aspects should one select? Should one determine what their definition of a myth is? Should one relate ancient myths to the present-day? Should one attempt to uncover what myth means within the “underworld of the soul” (Bettelheim 12), where the Psyche roams and dreams paint unconscious images to inform our waking Selves? Should one examine the concepts revolving around true stories—what mythology means at the root level—or those of the commonly accepted notion of myth today: a downright lie or something meant to encourage belief in something incorrect in order to accomplish an objective for say a political party?

Political parties regrettably reek of the hoi polloi’s employment of myth. Like the myth that one should vote Republican versus Democratic or vice versa—thus demarking this as an inappropriate approach for such a paper—or the common political suggestion that one should vote straight party tickets—even if one of the candidates is a known trickster, not just a trickster as in a slippery customer, a charlatan, fraud, con artist, cheat or swindler, but as in the archetypal trickster of the mythology realm, complete with cycles and a “state of affairs in which everything goes wrong and nothing intelligent happens except by mistake at the last moment […]” (Jung 267). We could focus on tricksters in the political arena, yet even the presence of such seemingly mythological archetypes conceals little of the stench of downright lies and deception with which politics teem.

Donna Rosenberg comments on myth in Folklore, Myth, and Legends: A World Perspective, focusing on the story and religious or mystery aspects of myth:
“A myth is a sacred story from the past. It may explain the origin of the universe and of life, or it may express its culture's moral values in human terms. Myths concern the powers who control the human world and the relationship between those powers and human beings. Although myths are religious in their origin and function, they may also be the earliest form of history, science, or philosophy. [...]” (pibburns.com).

In Donna’s description of myth, while mentioning the possibility for historical, scientific, or philosophical correlation, she directs us toward the sacred aspect of myths, to the religious, the mystery contained therein.

Christine Downing, in her September lecture, 2002, said, it is “important to recognize at the beginning that to call something a myth may mean that it’s a sacred very important truth OR that it’s obsolete or a falsehood.” This provides a delineation then that marks the direction to take in applying the terms of myth and the focus of a paper to write about the theory of myth. The focus in this paper shall center on the true aspect, the sacred occupation of myth, for in estimation, applying oneself in research concerning the sacred illuminates far more rewarding nuggets than in mining the profane or false. As such, we will avoid lingering on the falsehoods of myth much longer.

As Mircea Eliade surely must concur, even as it is important to understand the profane, the sacred layers our souls, our spirits, our selves, our minds and our wholes, that sacred being part and parcel: myth or related in some way to the mystery that resonates within myth. Kerenyi states a similar assessment—related more to the loss of a connection with myth—saying; “We have lost our immediate feeling for the great realities of the spirit—and to this world all true mythology belongs—lost it precisely because of our all-too-willing, helpful, and efficient science” (Jung and Kerenyi 1). Even still, with the present-day continuance of the study of myth, we dally in the “great realities of the spirit”, ensuring the enduring nature of these true stories lives.

Oh, to be sure, most of us enjoy good stories. Some of us even love them or are inhabited by them, linking our spirits with the shared spirit of myth. Within the auspicious limitless boundaries of myths, we explore the realm of the collective unconscious (but an aspect of the soul), seeing the analogous elements. In the same September lecture of abundance, Christine Downing states that she loves “stories—stories that take difficulty, violence, chaos, tragedy, death seriously—and also take seriously our longing that it be different.” and that stories “suggest some universality,” allowing “an expansion of self.” Mythologists accept that myths are stories. The following two quotes speak to the content of these stories: “Myths are stories, usually, about gods and other supernatural beings” (Frye pibburns.com). and “They are often stories of origins, how the world and everything in it came to be in illo tempore” (Eliade pibburns.com). However, passion for good or true stories does not translate to a complete grasp of myth. So we must investigate further what properties these true stories—that yet retain a bit of falsity within them through the countless retellings and removal from their original cultural bounds—display that connect them in a brother/sisterhood of the realm of mythology.

One could pursue the underlying foundations of mythologem, the units that myths build upon to erect meaningful structures such as stories, and uncover several archetypal images such as the Kore that resonate within many cultures’ myths. Should one ascertain exactly what these are and how they all interrelate between each myth from every culture, then one should have tapped into what makes the mystery mysterious, what makes the myth sacred, a daunting task indeed. What with the divisive nature of arguments for and against in this arena, this focus seems foolhardy until someone develops a computerized program that automatically scans and filters through hundreds of thousands of myths simultaneously, comparing and contrasting to arrive at a more ‘scientific’ and plausibly acceptable conclusion. For myths let slip organization within the story; “They are usually strongly structured and their meaning is only discerned by linguistic analysis” (Lévi-Strauss pibburns.com). But, suggesting, as Lévi-Strauss has, that linguistics provides the only discernible meaning clangs as experientially false. Through researching the original texts—particularly of the ‘ancient myths’—one could also arrive at multi-faceted comparative and contrastive results, but then would have to ignore the fact that the original texts are still not the original story as it was told orally for generations unknown before writing. Therefore, efforts to unveil the base roots, the foundations, the building blocks of myths shall never prove as fruitful as those who initiate the process could hope for; suggesting that we focus our attentions elsewhere. Apparently, to this undereducated myth student, such elemental ingredients as archetypes do exist within the structure of myths, for this certainly explains parallels present universally.

Understanding what an archetype actually is or is not also poses a dilemma to those not fully initiated in the study of psychology. Archetypes, considered psychic organs present in all of us (Jung and Kerenyi 79), form the basis for the construction of mythologies and the development of meaning in living life, of a purpose, of the reason for why we exist and continue to do so. Moreover, archetypical situations and experiences resonate with familiarity from millennia to millennia, thereby providing an abiding fiber for the weaving of mythical fabrics, in parallel, anti-parallel, past, present and future dimensions. Jung discusses “psychologem” briefly, while revealing what the trickster means to him, suggesting that the trickster is “[…] an archetypal psychic structure of extreme antiquity” (Jung 260). allowing for its widespread universality.

Examining simple parallels in myths of various cultures, such as the trickster, the abductor of women, the killer of children, the primal mother, or the killer of unsuspecting travelers—“Some of them are explanatory, being prescientific attempts to interpret the natural world” (Frazer pibburns.com). “As such, they are usually functional and are the science of primitive peoples” (Malinowski pibburns.com). These parallels uncover fabric weaves of similar types in desert, forest, mountain, coast or plains societies. This suggests that although the underlying direction of the various myths may share the aspect of showing future generations how to live their lives through rites—“Often, they are enacted in rituals” (Hooke pibburns.com). The manner in which these fabrics are woven depends partially on the environment in which these societies toil, play, live and die. This underscores the obvious current interdependence upon environmental surround.

Even with a global economy one survives and thrives based on the relative wealth of their land: desert cultures often contain hidden reserves of oil to export so that they may import what they desire, whereas forest cultures export crops and other products to import the oil, among other products, so that both can live an ‘equitable’ life. We would be rather ignorant to assume that similar effects, centered on the environment, did not play some part in the construction of myths. If we look a little closer at both the desert and forest cultures, we will see how the environment acts dynamically within the equation of myth-making, extending the mysterious and the sacred to the very earth we tread upon, wherever that might be.

Interestingly, desert cultures contain many myths that spin tales about jinn or djinn (genies in English), demons below the class of angels and devils that arise from the desert sand to bewilder unsuspecting travelers, often to their demise (Jones 248). If one considers that, “The mysterious nature of the Desert, with its unpredictability, challenge, and power, is reflected in or perhaps embodied by its demonic population of exotic djinn” (Mack and Mack 136). then one might see more clearly the environment as a factor in the equation of myth making. The present-day ironic correlation here, being to oil reserves buried in the sand that arise to fuel the pollutional troubles of the entire world; like a cross-cultural, economically-based transference of mythical demonic negative attributes being perpetrated upon the rest of the world via a regularly traded and even coveted commodity.

Whereas in forest cultures, many interwoven myths center on spirits that emanate from the dark and mysterious woods to consume children or weary travelers lost in the woods, or to rape unwary women. Pan of Greek lore arises from this woodland zeitgeist, as do the rakshasas of Hindu lore, the Windigo of Canadian lore, the Leshii of Russian lore and the Wood-Wives and Skoggra of German and Swedish lore. Analyzing whom else but the Wood-Wives illustrates the connection to the woods or environment. “So intricately connected to the woods are these spirits that it is said that if a branch is twisted until the bark comes off, one Wood-Wife dies in the forest” (Mack and Mack 104). The present-day peculiar association here, being to the stripping of forests and woods correlating to the death of old myths in cultures the world over, through providing a much-coveted commodity of wood and wood by-products that originally allowed us to sit at tables and write, as well as eat and commune with family or friends, leading to the near-elimination of huge forests.

In briefly observing but two of the diverse cultural societies, desert and forest, we can see that the environment does effect the development of myths and continues to dictate the manner in which those societies survive, suggesting further that future myth creation also will reflect changes rendered by the global economy. This leads to a shift in how people define the sacred, as subtle nuances replace and recycle antiquated ones. Yet there is danger in interpretation and explanation of myths, as Kerenyi puts it, “[…] that one does justice […] by letting it alone and allowing it to utter its own meaning” (Jung and Kerenyi 3). Myths afford more to those who read the myths than to those who have myths translated for them. Today we see some alterations of two main myths and their interpretations by those considered authorities within the designated cultures and observe them changing decade by decade, and arguably for the worse.

The Islamic and Christian cultures stand diametrically opposed to one another, in some circles—usually the fundamentalist movements within each culture—and since the confluence and polarization of these cultures in many nations, the formation of present-day myths revolves around either myth group (select members or those affiliated with it) being pegged as the modern version of Satan or evil. “Religious myths are sacred histories (Eliade pibburns.com), and distinguished from the profane” (Durkheim pibburns.com). As demarcated from the profane, to rely on another ‘authority’ in translation of that myth, one then risks deploying or tainting the sacred history with the present-day profane. This modern dichotomy illuminates the dangers inherent in allowing others to interpret myths for us.

To blindly accept another’s interpretation of a particular myth, equates to evading the work required in arriving at one’s own understanding of that myth and equals an abject surrender to whatever that definition might be. This sightless reception illustrates the major obstacle presenting future generations (most likely increasing the overall misery) in occupying themselves with myth and its influence upon their lives. For truly whether we realize it or not, myth effects us daily, it inhabits us. And as such, an unwillingness to delve deeper and discover the mystery that throbs within the myths, uncovering the meaning behind the sacrality, comprehending the sacred and seeing it reflected in their own self, echoes Oedipus’ inability to see the message in his personal myth as he lived it. What tools, besides our conscious thinking mind should we utilize in discovering the meaning of myth?

Myth finds itself mysterious, sacred, with universal parallels or building blocks of whatever classification: mythologem, psychologem or archetype, environmentally dependent to some degree, subject to interpretation, and informed through the fabric of stories woven with the above-mentioned threads and more. As Christine Downing quotes Doninger saying, “It is impossible to define myth, but cowardly not to try.” (Downing September Lecture). Now, more than earlier, we see that I am working my way toward a very personal definition of myth, one that inhabits me.

What else frolics within the realm of myth, as the list above appears at first glance to be somewhat comprehensive? One great missing component in this equation, as dissected, concentrates on the mostly unknown regions of the Psyche (societally, most of us spend little time toiling on the Self). For
“The psyche is the world’s pivot: not only is it the one great condition for the existence of a world at all, it is also an intervention in the existing natural order, and no one can say with certainty where this intervention will finally end. […] With all the more urgency, then, we must emphasize that the smallest alteration in the psychic factor, if it be an alteration of principle, is of the utmost significance as regards our knowledge of the world and the picture we make of it” (Jung 127).

In stating the above, Jung clarifies the importance and relevance of the psyche in examining myth. Understanding psyche as an interchangeable word for the soul is closer to the truth than many think. But what then is the psyche comprised of other than the I, or ego (as mistranslated), the it, or id (as mistranslated), and the above-I, or superego (again mistranslated), which is the conscious mental life and our unconscious life (Bettelheim 75)?

These—the it, I, and above-I—manifest in matters of the mind, in our mental capacities and functions—what we think, both consciously and unconsciously, that makes us do or act. Sciences and Math belong to this realm and therefore hold special thrift with educated and uneducated alike, because they resonate with logic, an easily seen and shared commodity. However, the boundaries of the mental—exhaustive and infinite—do not end the realm or reign of the self. For the self also resonates with mystery, myth, spirit and magic—equally, and even more so, infinite and exhaustive—that create their own actions in us, which correspond to no specific mental process and make no logical sense. The great Mysteries: myth, religion, spirituality and mystics emanate from this realm and since they are difficult to define and one must truly become an initiate to understand, they find disfavor for various reasons among the mass populace. Even those who profess some religious denomination will yet denounce other religions, mythologies, or mystics (even murdering them within the confines of their shared faith), thus failing to realize that all of these originate from similar (and even arguably shared) regions within the self. It would seem few pursuits resonate within both of these very different areas of the self, some pursuits like meditation, witchcraft, ritual or creating and performing art could be asserted as doing so, explaining partially the even greater difficulty the mass populace finds in accepting these, precisely those of foreign nature. Myth derives some power from its mystery and more from its commune with the psyche and soul of all in contact with it.

The psyche or soul, clearly, once one touches his or her own, exists. Riding the vehicle of meditation offers views, through those windows and one’s lenses employed, of one’s psyche or soul that may shake the foundations of belief systems. Nevertheless, the psyche, in being immeasurable, to date, depicts a certain murkiness or fogginess to those who know theirs not. Within the confines of the psychology realm, the psyche or soul is often observed and discussed in accordance and concordance with favored myths such as Eros or Amor and Psyche [“At the outset of every labor Psyche is overcome by a despair in which suicide seems to be the only solution” (Neumann 115). Could this archetypal imagery explain the large amount of suicides and suicidal people—due to unresolved psyche issues tormenting evermore to death?], or with Greek Tragedies such as Oedipus, or still for others in fairy tales such as Cinderella or Rapunzel. Hillman emphatically states his opinion on this matter; “The entire massive apparatus of counseling, social work, developmental psychology—therapy in every form—continues rehearsing the myth, practicing the play in its practices” (Kerenyi and Hillman 102). Owing to the clear investment of psyche or the human soul within these pieces, centering on universal struggles and epiphanies, archetypical situations and influences, widespread acceptance and employment of them appeals to the senses, to the familiar we search for. This unending search for the familiar echoes the Greek Myth of the Soul Mate, as I like to think of it. Whereby humans used to roll on four arms and legs and challenged the might of Olympus, with their strength and cunning, so Zeus rained down lightning bolts separating us all to look evermore for that one who completes us.

Searching for the familiar accompanies our souls as much as hoping to find the new or unexplained, within our complex selves resonate opposites and likes. To simply say our souls consist of the consciousness and unconsciousness and that alone, regardless of how one chooses to divide them, falls short of the mark. Just as a specific element of the soul or psyche evades fingerprinting, arbitrary or even studied approaches to classifying the soul or psyche and its contents yield theories and theoretical methods that serve as guides alone, not ultimate truth. Experience and what one experiences, particularly in the mines of the soul and especially in conjunction with connections to myth, end up only vaguely similar and familiar, the exact attributes identical only as fingerprints or eyes. So too, one could argue for other subdivisions of both consciousness and unconsciousness. Sections that more aptly allow for phenomenon such as “Remote Viewing,” ESP and a host of other more esoteric explorations or techniques that refuse to fit neatly into current classifications, but this would distract us from further applying the psyche or soul to myth and what myth means to the individual—namely me.

Just how does psyche affect and effect myth, one might query? The answer resides within each of us and quite simply put: the psyche is crucial, critical, and elemental and plays gigantic to miniscule parts, it is everything in relation to the formulation, reception, examination and appreciation of and interaction with myth. Our psyche wraps all of the concerns previously mentioned and any unmentioned: the mystery, sacred, mythologem, psychologem or archetype, environment, interpretation, and fabric of stories woven, in an overarching, ever-reaching, ambivalent and invested energy that allows the fabric knitting, that directs the weave woven, dyes, embellishes, infuses and foretells. Interlacing bits of all of us into each myth created and recreated, told and retold, written and rewritten, translated and retranslated. All one needs do is make a decision and the psyche has touched one, regardless of whether or not one wants to be touched thusly. Which explains why we connect with nearly every myth in some fashion or another, investments of the psyche or soul reveal themselves to any possessing or possessed by said psyche or soul.

This psychic investment and the level in which a specific writer excels at instilling it through word choices and conscious and unconscious scene shifts or character attributes divulged or concealed, grabs those meant to be grabbed and whiffs past those not in need of such lessons or warnings. The psyche or soul becomes the story, whether it be oration, writing, retelling, translation and as such is what inhabits us later and on into our futures. These psychic tidbits that present to many of us, as archetypes, mythologems, psychologems or other building blocks, whatever the name, truly know our souls, recognizing them upon the encounter. “They orient people to the metaphysical dimension, explain the origins and nature of the cosmos, validate social issues, and, on the psychological plane, address themselves to the innermost depths of the psyche” (Campbell pibburns.com). Through our unconscious and conscious minds working collaboratively, while under the spell of the myth, we attune naturally to the sacred, to the great truths of the myths—of the stories of humanity. We bow out of respect, even only internally, and tremble at the attempt to define what we experienced. What spoken about myths, what definition related, what written in Every (parallel, anti-parallel, past, present and future) book could adequately sum up the experience of the soul communing, convening with another soul, with all souls?

Suggesting that myths, as stories, depend partially upon the environment and interpretation or translation, share similar building blocks or archetypes, wield a sacred influence, an element of mystery and some ineffable power to inform our actions, affecting our psyche seems not wholly complete (as if any definition of myth could be). We have discussed some of the parameters of what or how myth is, only touching briefly upon how myth does the affecting. Joseph Campbell elucidates this very well in his series: The Masks of God, from Primitive through Creative Mythology. It is perhaps his explication of the Indian terms of “marga, meaning “path” or “way,” the path or way to discovering the universal, and desi…”of the region, local, or ethnic,” the peculiar, sectarian, or historical aspect of any cult, through which it constellates a folk, a nation, or a civilization.” combining these with Adolph Bastian’s “elementary ideas” and “ethnic ideas” that demonstrates clearly how myth works within and on us. Campbell suggests that myth, as the “way,” disconnects us from our surround through a transformation allowing us to experience the mysterious, the beyond words, and as an “ethnic idea,” myth secures us to our environmental, especially familial, “[…] sentiments, activities and beliefs […].” Therefore, myth effectuates a duality, serving to remove us from our surround while fastening us to it simultaneously, culturally. (Campbell 461-62) However, since myths resonate profoundly, culturally, we must consider how the power of the local, the familial, the societal transfers from one region to another continent, as peoples migrate bringing their distinctively different myths along.

Such a phenomenon of transference spotlights possible psychological trauma for people attempting to delve into and immerse themselves in myths and religious rites and practices far removed from their original culture and development. One obvious problem in adopting foreign myths deals with the symbols of a localized culture, as “They are symbolic and metaphorical” (Cassirer pibburns.com). causing the adoptee to hazard guesses and intuitions. Some cultures (desert) view rain as savior, whereas others (jungles) frequented by monsoons view it as a harbinger of life and death, pointing out inherent problems with translation in this example is but the stone to the mountain. Although one could suggest that links to the Collective Unconscious might enable one to avert some of the pratfalls and dangers inherent in adopting an unfamiliar myth, relying upon the Collective Unconscious to receive the appropriate information and assistance appears questionable or risky at best (especially since such messages are susceptible to personal translation by and motivation of the receiver). If myth does indeed appear in the form of dreams as Freud suggests, “Sometimes they are public dreams which, like private dreams, emerge from the unconscious mind” (Freud pibburns.com). then this points toward a definite link with the Collective Unconscious, which connection Jung points out; “Indeed, they often reveal the archetypes of the collective unconscious” (Jung pibburns.com). Nonetheless, a universal connection does not imply one should adopt any myth from any culture without expecting or preparing for potential harmful reactions. That psychological trauma could occur in those who practice nonnative myths, seems readily apparent. Therefore, before complete indoctrination in another culture’s myths or religions, it would be wise to ‘set one’s house in order’ first, healing old psychological wounds and readying oneself for such a powerful undertaking. Myths resonate and what vibrations emanate, originate from the energy of the spirit, soul or psyche that assisted in their creation.

After having explored many aspects of myth [Which exploration shall never be complete, even with an updated and amended Golden Boughs, so we shorten the exploring for the sake of length requirements.], we shall now explore my definition of myth, culled from a lifelong fascination with myths, participating in fantastic lectures by Christine Downing, reading source materials, online research and reflection upon this combined with meditation (and of whatever dreams availed themselves to me) upon it all. With humility, and the necessary acknowledgement of all who have come beforehand, giving freely of their wisdom, found in published books and materials, and the gratitude felt for their efforts, particularly those of Campbell, Downing, Freud, Hillman, Jung and Kerenyi, such a definition exudes from my soul. As Christine Downing so ably said, “Freud’s discovery of the living reality of myth really marks the beginning of psychoanalysis” (Downing December Lecture). Our current acceptance of this living reality allows the courage to venture forth with a living definition of myth. So, without further ado, Scott M. Potter’s definition of myth:

Myths, as living stories, free us from our surround while fastening us to it—depending partially upon the environment and interpretation or translation—usually center on deities or spirits—responsible for creation or the creation of mystery, tensions and change in our world, including natural and so-called unnatural phenomenon, and as such wield a sacred influence, an element of mystery and some ineffable power to inform our actions—share similar building blocks, incorporating archetypes; all of which affects our psyche; touching the unreachable and untouchable part of us—the entire Self—that compels us to react emotionally, physically, physiologically, spiritually and intellectually.


Should one question the validity of the latter part of the above definition, these last quotes should serve to dispel those doubts; “Mythology is psychological, because it inhabits us” (Downing November Lecture). and the following:
“[…] I became aware that the unconscious undergoes or produces change. […] I realize that the unconscious is a process, and that the psyche is transformed or developed by the relationship of the ego to the contents of the unconscious. […] In collective life it has left its deposit principally in the various religious systems and their changing symbols” (Jung 209).

Yet, whatever the accepted experts one chooses to cite, however one chooses to approach Mythography—for truly we know that our stance, the lens we wear, colors everything we see—wheneven the time one does so, moreoverorless the age or experiences one summons to the table, to define what myth or mythology means to oneself is to partly define oneself, and not to is to partly undefine oneself. And, even more importantly, to not revisit that definition and see how it changes through the years, is to leave oneself in a flux of shadows. I say that defining one’s own myth and one’s own epistemological understanding of mythology or mythography allows one to see with ears clear, to hear with eyes open to shut, to sing with the heart, to feel with the voice, to move throughout shadows and utter darkness with an inner light ever shining. I say that to re-collect, to re-imagine, to re-invent, to re-embrace this process continually is akin to living in the arbor philosophicum, or to seeing through the philosopher’s stone.



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