By the Gods!
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Atlas
The big man with the mother of all back pain, Atlas is one of the more famed Titans from the world of Greek myth. He was the son of Iapetus and Asia by Hesiod’s account (Hesiod being the author of the famed Theogony, from which a great deal of our info on Greek myth comes), but Hyginus believed him to be the son of Aether and Gaia. Regardless of his parentage, Atlas was a big strong fella who found himself on the losing team after the war between the Olympians and the Titans (the Titanomachy).
Atlas was undoubtedly a serious force for the Titans, but they still couldn’t quite get it done, due in part to Atlas’ brothers Prometheus and Epimetheus betraying their own kind to form an alliance with the Olympians. When Zeus and his cohorts had won out, they banished most of the Titans to Tartarus, the abyssal dungeon beneath even the Underworld. Atlas, however, with a nod to his incredible strength and apropos parentage, was sentenced to the western edge of the world and charged with holding up Uranus (the sky) on his shoulders forever. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy.
Though he’s often shown supporting the earth, this is an incorrect portrayal. He was originally depicted shouldering a great celestial orb, speckled with the sun, stars, and other knick-knacks of the firmament.
Atlas, in some stories, was turned to stone, and his tremendous body formed the Atlas mountain range in Northern Africa. In another tale, Heracles has a wacky adventure with the tragically trapped Titan, with hilarious results.
Momotarou, which can be translated as “peach boy” or “peach first son”, is a popular hero in Japanese folklore.
The story goes like this:
There once was an elderly, childless couple who lived out in the country. One day, the wife was washing the clothes in the river when she came upon a large peach floating towards her. Well, the wife grabbed that peach and brought it back with her to the house. She and her husband decided to open the peach, to eat the flesh inside. And what do they find when they cut it open? A little boy! The child went on to tell them that he was sent from Heaven to be their son. They were overjoyed, and named him Momotarou.
Years pass by and Momotarou leaves his parents to go and fight this band of marauding oni’s (demons or ogres) on a distant island. While he’s on his way there, he happens to befriend a talking dog, monkey, and pheasant; who all agree to to help him on his quest. At the island, Momotarou and his talking animal friends are able to penetrate oni’s fort and literally beat those oni’s into surrendering! Momotarou and his friends return from the battle, with treasure and the oni leader as their captive.
Momotarou returns home to his parents with all his spoils, and they all live comfortably from then on.
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Thanks for the awesome submission! If you’re interested in more of the Japanese-style myths in our archives, check out the Shinto and Buddhist directories!
Janus
There’s no better time to learn about Janus than in January, his very own special little month. As Janus is the Roman god of beginnings, (among other things) it’s fairly apropos to talk about him in the first days of a brand new year (on western calendars).
Besides being the patron of beginnings, (and endings) Janus is the god of transitions, as represented by doors and gates. Big fan of a good door, that Janus. Oh, and he’s also the god of time, and thus the two faces: looking back into the past and forward into the future.
Janus is actually difficult to classify in the Roman Pantheon: he’s one of those everything and nothing types of deities. It’s been debated exactly what he presides over, since things like “time” and “transitions” are nebulous. Is he everywhere, and perhaps all powerful, or is he literally just hiding behind a rock, watching you get out of bed and start your day? Many Roman philosophers saw him as both the spark that caused every beginning, and the shadow that brought about every end.
Janus is certainly one mysterious deity, and was the topic of countless debates in western culture since the days of the old Roman Kingdom.
Hector
Are you familiar with the Iliad? Yes? Well, congratulations: it means you’re familiar with an amazing man named Hector.
No? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you like rad dudes? Let me tell you about this one rad dude named Hector.
Praised far and wide for his honour and heretofore unmatched prowess in battle, Hector was the firstborn son of Priam and Hecuba, the king and queen of Troy. As you may or may not know, Troy got tangled up in a tiff with all the Greeks on the other side of the Aegean, who were, for the most part, vassals to Agamemnon. Paris, Hector’s little brother, whisks away Helen, the wife of Menelaus (the king of Sparta), and this is used as a convenient reason for the Greeks to go to war with Troy.
While Hector was an incredible soldier, he was the sort of fellow who valued the lives of his men, and would rather avoid bloodshed. He was regarded highly by friend and foe for his noble and courtly nature, but when it came down to it, he could break your back with his little finger. Hector led the Trojan troops in the war, and demonstrated his brilliant leadership time and time again. He defeated the Greek champion Protesilaus in a duel, and forced a stalemate with the undefeated Ajax. Throughout the siege of his city, it was Hector who planned most of the defenses, and led the counterattack that burnt the Greek ships, nearly securing victory for the Trojans. Odysseus, when faced with Hector’s personal attack, described it as an “invincible headlong terror!”
However deserving a warrior he might’ve been, though, Hector was no match for the wrath of Achilles and the capriciousness of the gods. Hector had slain Patroclus, a beloved friend of Achilles, who had been wearing Achilles’ armour. Sadly for the Trojans, angry-Achilles doesn’t have an off-switch, and no amount of apology can calm the big guy down. As the Trojans retreat to their walled city after a failed attack, Hector hangs back to guard the rear and meets Achilles. They eventually do battle, but Hector is fooled by Athena, who had pretended to be Hector’s friend and shield bearer, but vanished in his moment of need. Achilles stabs poor Hector through the throat, and then attaches the body to his chariot, which he proceeds to drag about the battlefield. He “mistreats” Hectors body for two weeks, but Aphrodite and Apollo protect it from injury.
Priam, Hector’s father, is eventually allowed to reclaim the body. The subdued Achilles, filled with regret at the loss of such a great adversary, allows a twelve day truce so the Trojans can properly mourn Hector.
Besides being a great hero of Mediterranean myth, Hector is still remembered by lovers of antiquity in the western world, and was even immortalized as one of the “Nine Worthies” in medieval Europe, for being so honourable and mighty.
Raven
From North to South, East to West, the Raven has held a revered place in cultural mythology and rituals. Whether Odin’s ravens, Huginn & Muginn, flying around the world to bring the Norse God-king news of events and portends of good and evil (their names, translated are ‘thought’ and ‘memory’, suggesting the world of the cerebral and an intelligence above mere animals) or the west coast First Nations traditions of the trickster and mischief-maker, the Raven continues to fascinate.
In Pacific Northwest Aboriginal mythology, Raven Steals the Sun describes how Raven, in disguise as the Sky Chief’s grandson, is able to trick the Chief into revealing the sun, which was hidden inside a carved cedar box of the type hand carved and created by the Haida and Nootka peoples. Once the sun was out of the box, Raven transformed back into his true shape and grabbed the brilliant sun in his beak and flew through the smoke hole in the Sky Chief’s lodge. High into the dark sky Raven rose, but the sun’s heat burned his white feathers jet black. High above the earth, Raven released the sun, setting it into its permanent place in transit above the earth.
As a result of his trickster ways, Raven provided light and warmth to the first peoples, and they could see their world for the first time. In the traditional lands of the Haida- the islands now known as Haida-Gwaii, (Queen Charlotte Islands), Raven is seen as both trickster and hero for this act of unintended philanthropy. For a most excellent rendition of this and similar stories, Bill Reid, the late artist and sculptor, collaborated in a collection of these tales under the title, Raven Steals the Light.
Hey Myth fans! For a contemporary re-telling of this specific myth, see the new novel The Raven Effect, by Michael Ippen, in which the trickster character of Raven is able- unintentionally- to shed light on the troubled affairs of the Tse Wets Aht First Nation on Vancouver Island, as well as its struggling female protagonist.
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is a warrior from the Fenian cycle of Irish mythology, and described as one of the most renowned warriors in service of the high king of Ireland Cormac mac Airt. Diarmuid was raised by Aengus who was a lesser celtic god, who gave Diarmuid a heroic arsenal. A great sword, Moralltach (the Great Fury), and two spears the Gae Buide (Yellow shaft) and the Gae Derg (Red Javelin) rounded out Diarmuid’s armaments. The spears were said to inflict wounds impossible to recover from which strikes me as an odd gift from father to son, as my dad wouldn’t even let me have a swiss army knife until I was thirteen.
Diarmuid’s troubles started when he was out hunting one night and encountered a magical woman in the woods. The details of how it happened are varied, but the consensus is that sex happened. The woman was so taken with Diarmuid that she placed a magical “love spot” on his forehead that caused any woman that looked upon it to fall instantly in love with Diarmuid. Ladies love mystical skin conditions.
When the high king’s daughter Grainne spotted Diarmuid training with her father’s soldiers, she was smitten. The problem here was that Grainne was already promised to the ageing military leader Fionn mac Cumhaill (sometimes awesomely translated as “Finn MacCool”) so in order to be with her new crush, Grainne doused her father and his warriors with a sleeping potion, and placed a “geis” (an Irish mix of a binding-oath and a hex) on Diarmuid to compel him to run away with her.
The two escaped Fionn and his warriors for long enough to settle down together and have five children. It seemed to be a happy ending, for Cormac eventually pardoned his daughter and new husband allowing them to stay married in peace. Fionn however, was the type to hold a grudge. Fionn invited Diarmuid along with him on a hunting trip during which Diarmuid was severely gored by a giant boar. Fionn proves himself an even bigger dick when he denies Diarmuid a drink of water from his hands that had the power of healing.
In a weird twist to finish this Irish tragedy, Diarmuid’s mystical foster-father Aengus brings his body back home where he would breathe some life into Diarmuid whenever he felt like having a conversation with his dead son. Diarmuid is also said to be the founder of the Scottish clan Campbell, who carry a boar’s head on their crest in remembrance of his death.
Hey myth fans! For another take on the character Diarmuid, check out Guy Gavriel Kay’s “The Fionavar Tapestry” series! If you enjoy fantasy you should make time for this excellent trilogy.
Mermaids
The half-woman half-fish figure has appeared in the legends and folklore of many traditions. They are mentioned in Assyrian and Greek myth, and are also featured in Scheherazade’s Arabian Nights. As such, there is much variation in how they are depicted but here is what you need to know.
A mermaid is often shown as a fair maiden with long flowing hair and a scaled tail where her legs would be. From a more charitable perspective they are sought out as sea-faring beauties, whose tears become priceless pearls, and whose melodious songs sing sailors to sleep.
The more cautious fear the capriciousness of mermaids, as they often forget humans can not breath underwater, and pull sailors to their doom while trying to share their home with the surface dwellers. Some cultures accuse mermaids of being inherently vicious, associating them more closely with Sirens that would entice sailors with their beautiful songs into treacherous waters where they would surely drown.
So there you have it myth-fans. Are you willing to risk drowning to be “A Part of their world”? I don’t mean to sway you, but I hear they have whozits and whatzits galore…
Saint Christopher
Alright, friends: hearken to the tale of Saint Christopher, the patron saint of the traveler! As it happens, I’m heading out on a trip to the UK and France for a few weeks as of tomorrow, and I hereby invoke the power of all mythic figures associated with brave pilgrims such as myself.
Back to Christopher. Born in Canaan (according to Western accounts) in the 3rd century CE, Christopher was a mammoth of a man. Almost 7 feet tall and built like a tank, Christopher served the Caananite King as #1 hired muscle. After seeing the king in a few moments of weakness, Christopher decided that only the greatest king there was was worthy of his services, so he decided to bounce out of Canaan. He found a king who called himself the greatest (unnamed in the story), but this king kept crossing himself out of fear of the Devil.
“Now hold on a second,” Christopher thought aloud, “if you’re afraid of the Devil, that means he’s greater than you! I’m gonna go work for that guy!” And so he set out to give Satan his resume. Eventually Christopher stumbled upon some bandits, and their leader referred to himself as “the Devil.” Not being one worried about checking sources, Christopher took this boast at face value, and took up employment with desert-bandit-satan. The problem with this boss, as it turned out for Christopher, was the he was constantly avoiding any wayside crosses. Since the devil was evidently afraid of Christ, Christopher made the decision to serve the good ol’ King of Kings, Christ himself.
Now, Jesus having died some centuries before, Christopher asked a hermit-priest how he could best serve his Lord. The priest suggested prayer and fasting, which Christopher thought was a lame suggestion and refused to do. Taking note of his immense size and rippling muscles, the priest told Christopher to help the puny people in the area to cross a particularly deep river by carrying them across.
For a while Christopher worked as the ferryman-hulk, and then a little child asked him for passage across the river. As soon as the kid clambered up on his back, Christopher almost buckled under his deceptively crushing mass. Staggering to stand with the child on his back, Christopher slowly grunted to the river, and made his way across the water, his muscles screaming the whole way. As the infinitely heavy child dismounted, Christopher said “You almost killed me with your girth, kid. Not cool.” The child replied “You had on your shoulders not only the whole world but Him who made it. I am Christ your king, whom you are serving by this work.” The magic baby then disappeared in a flash, and Christopher was left with the greatest bar story to tell his friends in the history of the universe.
A little later, a king ordered him to be killed for not shutting up about it. Bad luck for river-hulk.
Phooka
Original art by myself, influenced by the work of Brian Froud. :)
The Phooka is an Irish demon. It takes many forms and demi-forms. The most common are that of a horse, a goat, an eagle and a cow with long horns. The Phooka tricks weary travellers into accepting an invitation of a ride. Once upon the back of a Phooka, the rider is taken on a wild ride through the countryside until the Phooka dumps the rider into a marsh into a ditch. The sound of manic laughter afterwards is the laughter of the Phooka as it runs away.
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