Dragons, Dragons Everywhere

Every culture has dragon folktales and these dragons share the same characteristics. David Jones reaches fascinating conclusions about our fear and fascination with these creatures, including that we are essentially “hardwired” to believe in them. Get a copy here.

Dragons are not just fairy tale creatures who like to eat an occasional princess or fight a knight or two. Dragons are mythic-poetic creatures used in tales or sermons to make sophisticated points. Perhaps rooted in early human experience of three major predators–lions, eagles, and large serpents–dragons both warn of danger and show how to escape that danger.

Although we think of dragons as fire-breathing serpents with legs and wings, the oldest stories report that dragons had a foul, poisonous breath, the stench of which could kill anything that inhaled it. Dragons are Chaos. Dragons are spiritual and emotional energy that is out of control. Unfocused. Wild. They are in stories or texts what horses with loose, untied tails are in icons.

In the New Testament (Revelation 12:3) we read about a vision of a Great Red Dragon with seven heads, ten horns, seven crowns, and a massive tail, an image which is clearly inspired by the vision of the four beasts from the sea in the Book of Daniel and the Leviathan described in various Old Testament passages. This dragon is the enemy of the woman clothed with the sun, with the moon beneath her feet, and a crown of 12 stars upon her head: the Church. The dragon attacks the Church at the End of Days and slays the martyrs as Judgement Day approaches. In the lives of the saints–such as SS. Margaret or George–a dragon is the enemy of the saint or of specific persons now, during history.

In the story of St. Margaret, she is swallowed alive by a dragon in her jail cell but she makes the sign of the Cross and the dragon’s stomach explodes… allowing her to step out, unharmed. (Not unlike Red Riding Hood and her grandmother stepping unharmed from the wolf’s stomach.) In the story of St. George (whose horse’s tail is always tied in a knot), the dragon is attacking a town and is about to devour a princess as its most recent victim but George is able to kill it; in some versions, he wounds it so that it becomes a tame beast and he can lead it into the town with a leash made of the princess’ belt.

St. Margaret is clearly attacked by the enemies of God but is able to overcome them by her faith in Christ, crucified and risen. The princess (soul) is attacked by the passions–anger, jealousy, greed, etc.–but is able to either overcome them by the help of the saints and the Cross of Christ (the wooden spear of St. George). In the versions where the dragon is wounded, it means the soul is able to redirect its energy away from destructive desires into constructive desires, such as righteous anger on behalf of the oppressed, desire to care for the needy, or peace-making between enemies.

Dragons are the great enemy both at the End of Time and now, as history plays itself out. They are the spiritual energy that we can channel to come close to God or that we can let it create chaos in our lives to destroy us. We can embrace the dragon within or we can tame it. The choice is ours.

Turul Birds in Budapest!

A turul bird in Budapest.

A turul bird in Budapest.

The last time I was in Budapest, I was struck by the statues of the turul birds that adorn the Liberty Bridge there. They are a striking set of images.

The turul bird is the most important bird in the origin myth of the Magyars (Hungarian people). It is a divine messenger, and perches on top of the tree of life along with the other spirits of unborn children in the form of birds. The turul became a symbol of power, strength, and nobility. The most common motifs of the ninth and the early tenth centuries — the griffin, wolf and hind — seldom figure in later Hungarian iconography and heraldic symbolism; however the hawk or turul were preserved for longer as a device belonging to the ruling house.

The Turul is probably based on a large falcon, and the origin of the word is most likely Turkic: “togrıl” or “turgul” means a medium to large bird of prey of the family Accipitridae. In Hungarian the word sólyom means falcon, and there are three ancient words describing different kinds of falcons: kerecsen (saker falcon), zongor [Turkish sungur = gyrfalcon] and turul.

I will be in Budapest for the next two weeks, participating in conferences on both fairy tales and the supernatural. Then off to Germany to see my daughter and her family. But I will keep posting here and hopefully posting photos on Facebook!

All I Want for Christmas is… a Goldfinch?!

Madonna and Child, by Carlo Crivelli (1480); note the goldfinch in the Christ Child's grasp

Madonna and Child, by Carlo Crivelli (1480); note the goldfinch in the Christ Child’s grasp

Very often in traditional depictions of the Virgin and Christ Child, there is a goldfinch in the baby’s grasp. Why?

The most simple reason might be that in the 14th century it was common for young children to keep tame birds as pets. Christ’s holding a bird allows a parent or a child to recognize his human nature, to identify with him. Despite the angels and the celestial gold background, the viewer is reminded that God lived and died as a man upon the earth.

But when is traditional Christian art ever simple? Or easy?

The goldfinch appears in depictions of Christ’s birth or during his childhood because it was said that when Christ was carrying the cross to Calvary a small bird – sometimes a goldfinch, sometimes a robin – flew down and plucked one of the thorns from the crown around his head. Some of Christ’s blood splashed onto the bird as it drew the thorn out, and to this day goldfinches and robins have spots of red on their plumage. Since goldfinches are also known to eat and nest among thorns, the goldfinch is often read as a prefiguration of Christ’s Passion.

The bird could also be seen as a symbol of the Resurrection of Christ. A non-Biblical legend popular in the Middle Ages related how the child Jesus, when playing with some clay birds that his friends had given to him, bought them to life. Medieval theologians saw this as an allegory of his own coming back from the dead.

Medieval Europeans also saw the goldfinch as a protector against the plague. Since classical times superstition had credited a mythical bird – the charadrius – with the ability to take on the disease of any man who looked it in the eye. The charadrius was sometimes represented as a goldfinch. Perhaps Christ’s finch offers the worshiper protection against the seemingly unstoppable contagion.

Also, since Ancient Egypt, the human soul had been represented in religious art by a small bird. We see the “Ba” (the soul-bird) on a detail of an Egyptian coffins. A very general reading of the goldfinch might, therefore, remind the viewer that his soul is ‘in the hands’ of God.

Curious about that big cucumber hanging from the apple tree? Hmmm… Read an interesting interpretation of it here.