When presented with the opportunity to research any
goddess of my choosing from amongst the vast selection available
worldwide,
my first inclination was to find the feminine deities connected
with the Polish side of my ancestry. Since my American upbringing
included few original traditions beyond the making of homemade
Polish sausage and not a single myth or story that I can recall,
I knew I would have to begin my search from scratch. As I culled
through all my available resources, I soon discovered what a difficult
task this would be. With the exception of the well-known witch
Baba-Yaga and the eternal presence of Mokosh, or "Moist Mother
Earth," there are few English references to any Polish goddesses
beyond a scattering of brief encyclopedic entries. Yet, this initial
lack of available information did not deter me for I was committed
to unearthing the feminine deities that may have had a direct impact
on many of my Polish ancestors.
In order to uncover these ancient influences, it became necessary
to expand my search to include the greater Slavic culture, in which
Poland plays a central role. According to the Harvard University
Press edition of A Handbook of Slavic Studies: "The
group of West Slavic tribes out of which the Polish nation was
to be formed, lived from time immemorial in the very center of
the original home of the Slavs: between the Baltic and the Carpathians,
in the basins of the Vistula and Oder rivers," in what is
now known as eastern Poland and western Russia, Belorussia, and
Ukraine (77). Since writing was a relatively late development for
these farmers and herders, there is no written account of their
existence until the 5th century BCE, when they appear in the writings
of the Greek author Herodotus. Actual archaeological evidence suggests
the Slavs began to differentiate themselves as a unique cultural
group from their Indo-European ancestors sometime between 2,000
and 1,000 BCE. And over the course of their development they were
known to have had contact with Iranian tribes such as the Scythians
and the Sarmatians.
Starting around 150 CE, the Slavic population began to expand
from their original homeland and eventually developed into three
distinct groups. The Western Slavs, who were influenced by Germanic
and Celtic cultures, now inhabit Poland, the Czech Republic, and
Slovakia. The Eastern Slavs, who headed into the forested northern
territories of the Finnish and Baltic people, continue to dwell
in Russia, Belarus, Latvia, Lithuania, and the Ukraine. The Southern
Slavs, who migrated down into the Balkan Peninsula, currently live
in Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Bosnia, and
Bulgaria. This diverse population eventually grew large enough
to become Europe's biggest ethnic and linguistic group.
This large linguistic group, which made its living off the land,
did not seem to have the need for an official written language.
Yet this did not stop Christian missionaries from introducing one
to the region around 860 CE. The best-known missionaries of this
era are two brothers, Saint Cyril and Saint Methodius, who also
created the Cyrillic alphabet. This alphabet is based on the ninth-century
Greek uncial script in combination with additional characters that
were "devised to represent Slavic sounds that had no Greek
or Latin equivalent" (Dixon-Kennedy 57).
The absence of a written language until after Christianization
means there are no sacred religious texts, epic novels, or their
own accounts of their ancient mythology to enlighten us about the
original pagan beliefs. This has led some to say that: "the
Slav gods (and goddesses) remain lost in (a) dense cloud, only
occasionally broken by a passing flash of lightning or a piercing
ray of sunshine" (Gieysztor 403). Much of the information
that has survived is best described as being "neither narrative
nor anecdotal, it is more like a catalogue of supernatural powers" (Gieysztor
403). This may be in part due to the fact that the few sources
of documentation that do exist come from either Christian converters
who were attempting to destroy their ancient ways or foreign visitors
who may not have understood their ways. Yet, as Marija Gimbutus
points out, there are a few original sources that still remain: "songs,
fairy tales, and oral epics such as the Russian byliny,
which survived among peasants, are a representative of pagan religious
traditions" (354).
Another source of ancient Slavic beliefs are the people who still
practice dvoeverie, or the "double faith," within
the Russian Orthodox religion. Dvoeverie is described as "the
continuation of pagan traditions after the adoption of Christianity
as the state-sanctioned religion due mainly to resistance from
women who far preferred matriarchal pagan religions to patriarchal
Christianity" (Dixon-Kennedy 78). Yet the roots of the practice
seem to go back even earlier: "The practice of dvoeverie (two
faiths), which would characterize later Russian culture, resulted
most certainly from the aggressive expansions of the Slavic tribes
and reflected the conflict of hierarchically oriented warrior elites
with the still-matrifocal clans they were to protect" (Hubbs
13). Throughout the years, a number of outside observers have confirmed
the dual existence of the worship of male gods in the same communities
that venerated nymphs near water and in the depths of the forest.
The outdoor worship of many of the Slavic deities confirms the
close connection between these people and the forces of nature.
The world they lived in was their temple and much of their pantheon
grew out of this natural setting: "The primitive Slavs were
animists attributing soul to the natural elements amid which they
lived. They deified some of the heavenly bodies and the great phenomena
of nature. They believed not only in a supreme deity but also in
the existence of wood, water and household spirits to which they
offered sacrifice" (Cross 34). Modern day religious researcher,
Kenneth Johnson, who has spent time with contemporary Slavic Shamans
in Russia, echoes this sentiment. He notes that: "The Slavic
peoples had a particularly rich Otherworld traditionåso rich, in
fact, that it is often difficult to say where the realm of the
nature spirits ends and the realm of the gods (and goddesses) begins" (142).
To get a better feel for the natural surroundings that inspired
this devotion, it may be helpful to take an imaginary trip back
to a time when the landscape was far different than it is today. "In
ancient times, a vast hardwood forest stretched from the British
Isles across Germany and deep into Eastern Europe; today almost
nothing survives of this primordial woodland save for a rather
large remnant in eastern Poland and western Belarus" (Johnson
128). This environment produced numerous tales of supernatural
events that took place in the deep dark woodland since: "Ancient
Slavic villages and towns were simply places where the forest had
been cleared away for human habitation; beyond the village limits,
the trees still reigned supreme" (Johnson 129). It is in these
forests, which contain numerous sacred groves, where the woodland
nymphs known as the Rusalki and their predecessors, the Bereginy,
dwell.
The Bereginy are believed to be the most ancient of all Slavic
divinities. They manifest themselves as river, lake and forest
nymphs and may be a "primitive form of the hunting and fertility
goddess." The Slavic term bereg actually means "shore" and "the
name Beregina means 'earth' as well as 'shore,' the place where
land and water meet" (Hubbs 15). In time, these liminal Bereginy
branched out to become a variety of distinct deities including:
the goddesses of fate who live in bathhouses called the Rozhanitsy,
the wild woodland spirits of the Vily, and the water-dwelling nature
nymphs known as Rusalki, who we will further investigate.
The description of the Rusalki can vary quite greatly from region
to region. "In fertile areas, they were imagined as beautiful
naked maidens. In Great Russia, where the land is harsher, they
appeared as large-breasted Amazons. In the north, they were hideous
and hairy," (Hubbs 29) and others say people in this region
sometimes perceived them as "wicked girls, unattractive and
with disheveled hair. They were naked, wan, and cadaverous, like
drowned corpses, and their eyes shone with evil green fire" (Johnson
155).
In a more positive light, the Rusalki are seen as beautiful fish-women
or mermaids, and they are most commonly portrayed in Slavic folkart
and fairytales as stunning and seductive creatures whose beauty
is unrivaled. "In her outward appearance, the rusalka matched
the natural beauty amid which she lived. Her fair tresses flowing
in an eddying, endless stream, her fine features framing her fathomless
eyes. Simply to see her was to ache with desire" (Phillips
66). Others say "their faces are pale like the moon, and they
wear robes of mist or green leaves, or perhaps a white robe without
a belt. Their hair is green, or brown, decorated with flowers" (Johnson
155). The lustrous beauty of the Rusalki can only be tarnished
by their sad eyes, which tell of their tragic beginnings.
The Rusalki are commonly considered to be the spirits of young
women who have met their fate through drowning, whether by accident,
suicide or malicious intent (sometimes from their own mothers). "Belief
in them is most widely spread among the Russians (the Christian
practitioners of dvoeverie), who hold that they are children
who have died unbaptized, or have been drowned or suffocated, or
else that they are girls and young wives who have met an unnatural
death, or have been cursed by their parents" (Máchel 254).
Some say these spirits of the drowned spend some time in a purgatorial
state of limbo before becoming a Rusalka. During this period they
are referred to in Russian as a Navki or in Polish as Látawci Navki are
reputed to appear in the form of birds that cry out like infants
as they comb the countryside in search of their former mothers.
These young Navki, who will never again know their mother's
love, are greatly feared for their reputation of jealously attacking
women who are close to the time of childbirth. The wandering period
for these angry spirits lasts for seven long years, during which
time they beg anyone who will listen to baptize them. However,
if they cannot find a willing soul to take pity on their wailing
voices and utter the proper words, then they are doomed to spend
the rest of their days as Rusalki.
The Rusalki live in quiet spots along woodland brooks and rivers.
They also dwell deep down in the bottom of still lakes and ponds,
or under the turbulence of rapids. At times they emerge from their
underwater world to sit on the shores, or perch in the trees above,
where they attempt to "attract young people by imitating the
crying of infants or laughing, giggling, and clapping their hands" (Máchel 253). Some stories have described their underwater home as "a
place of entrancing beauty, its vast marbled chambers hung with
crystal chandeliers, its walls and floors set with gold and precious
stones" (Phillips 66). Yet as beautiful as these aqueous palaces
may be, the Rusalki cannot stay there year round. When summer approaches
and "the waters are warmed by the rays of the life-giving
light, they have to return to the trees, the houses of the dead" (Johnson
155).
The Rusalki spend most of their time in such pursuits as combing
their long luxurious hair, playing amongst themselves, and luring
innocent victims to their deaths, but they are also known for being
spinners. They hang the results of their labors from the trees
and lay it on the banks, where anyone passing should be wary of
stepping. The Rusalki are also well known for being spinners of
fate, who possess a powerful ability to affect the lives of local
inhabitants. The Rusalki "decided who died and who would be
reborn, who prospered and who perished, who married and who would
be barren" (Hubbs 33).
For those who pay their respects to the Rusalki, there can be
great rewards. Young women wishing to have a child demonstrate
their devotion by decorating the branches of the Rusalki's totem
tree, the birch, with ribbons and specially woven pieces of cloth.
The Rusalki are also acknowledged for their ability to regulate
the cycle of the seasons, the moon, and the local weather. Many
tales also tell of the secret wells that can be found in the forests
of the Rusalki, whose magical waters can bring about enlightenment
and cure anyone of their ills. With such a powerful influence on
the local community, it is no wonder that the Rusalki are still
honored to this day in many Slavic countries.
While it is true that these spinning sirens can bestow great fortune
upon those who honor them, they are also known to bring great tragedy
upon anyone who scorns their powers. "Those who disrespected
the rusalka suffered the loss of their horses and their livestock,
with whom the Russian male peasant linked his own 'potency' in
village and field" (Hubbs 32). Slavic people also fear the
fact that the Rusalki's favorable influence on the weather can
be gone in an angry flash, bringing "fatal storms, dangerous
rains, and heavy hail" (Máchel 255). While there are
many that might deserve their wrath, the Rusalki are also known
for
claiming the lives of innocent victims as well.
Since life in the forest can be rather lonely for a Rusalka, they
often attempt to lure young men into their watery world with their
seductive smiles and songs. "Even the wariest traveler, caught
out alone by a discreet riverbank or lakeside, might find himself
plunging heedlessly, even joyfully, to his doom. Those borne down
to her magic boudoir beneath the waves might leave this life in
a transport of pleasure, but would certainly never return" (Phillips
66). Life and death, pleasure and pain, good and evil, these are
closely linked in the world of the Rusalki.
Duality is a prevalent theme throughout the Slavic belief system,
which can easily be seen in the Slavic approach to the archetypal
Water of Life. Unlike most mythological tales, there is not just
a single "Water of Life," which possesses the power to
revive fallen heroes and heroines. The Slavs also require a "Water
of Death" to be administered. "The first, the 'Water
of Death', heals the wounds of a corpse, or knits together a body
that has been chopped up. The second, the 'Water of Life', restores
life" (Phillips 49).
The Slavic belief in a life after death is not just confined to
the realm of folklore and fairy tales. Most Slavic people firmly
believe in the transmigration of the soul. After their deaths,
friends and relatives are regularly honored in special rituals
that take place throughout the year. According to Marija Gimbutas: "Ancestor
worship, a prominent practice among all pre-Christian Slavs, is
evidenced in gifts presented to the dead. A strong belief in life
after death is indicated by prehistoric and even modern burial
rites. Food offerings are made in cemeteries to this day" (358).
These ongoing relationships between the living and the dead make
it easy to see why the Rusalki are still honored each year as living
embodiments of the Slavic belief in life after death.
The annual celebration of the Rusalki begins at a time known as
Whitsuntide. This is special time of year when the Rusalki leave
their watery dwelling places to gather in clearings and open fields,
where they take pleasure in song and dance. Whitsuntide is also
the first day of a weeklong celebration known as Rusalye, Rusaliia,
or Rusalki Week. This festival is cause for great celebration for
the entire community, who join in with music, singing, games, and
dancing. It is also a time for more solemn ritual processions and
ceremonies to honor the Rusalki and those who have died that previous
year. While the actual events of the festival vary from region
to region, there are always three common components.
The first is the honoring of the Rusalki's sacred tree, the birch.
In general, Slavic people believe that trees are highly evolved
beings that are more connected to humans than other plants and
animals. The birch tree, in particular, is known for being "the
locus for the coming together of the living and the dead, the communion
of animal, plant and human life" (Hubbs 33). During Rusalki
Week, birch trees may be decorated with flowers and other offerings
where they stand, or branches may be brought into the home to be
made into birch-garlands. Other communities are known to have sent
young men into their local forest to fell a birch, "which
the girls dressed in women's robes decorated with bright ribbons
and pieces of cloth" (Johnson 157). The tree was then carried
into the village while songs were sung and its arrival was heralded
by a ritual meal. This arboreal effigy was then erected in a specially
made house in the village where she presided over the week's festivities.
The second common aspect of this Slavic celebration is the honoring
of the dead with a festival known as Semik that begins on the Thursday.
This is a time when the ancestors are remembered and their ongoing
connection to the community is reconfirmed. It is also a time of
solemn remembrance for those who have met their deaths that year
through unfortunate circumstances such as drowning. "This
was the time when rites were offered to dispatch the 'unclean'
dead. Infants who had died before they could be baptized; adults
who had committed suicide or been killed as witches or sorcerers:
none of these groups could be given full Christian funerals" (Phillips
67).
The last common element of Rusalki Week is a processional farewell
or burial of a Rusalka. Communities that cut down a tree for the
event, say goodbye to the effigy by ceremoniously drowning it,
burning it, or tearing it apart in a field. Communities that did
not fell a birch often end Rusalki Week with a mock funeral of
a young girl or horse, while others create special dolls for the
occasion. "A doll might be placed in a coffin and carried
to the river with girls who pretended to be priests or deacons,
making a censer from an egg shell and singing 'Lord have mercy.'
At the river the girls combed the Rusalka's hair and bade her farewell,
both laughing and crying" (Johnson 158). The time of the drowning
of the Rusalka was also a time for divination when "the unmarried
women of the village would select their future husbands. Having
done so, they would cast their birch-branch garlands into the water.
If a garland sank; its owner was fated to die; but if it floated,
she would marry, be happy, and bear healthy children" (Dixon-Kennedy
254). This also ends the weeklong celebration of the Rusalki, who
then return to their watery woodland abodes.
While many of the ancient Slavic beliefs may remain a mystery
forever, it seems that the goddess is alive and well in the spirit
of the Rusalki. She has survived the often overwhelming transition
into the contemporary Christian culture. This may be due to the
strong faith of the people that still venerate the Rusalki and
who have succeeded in incorporating some of the ancient pagan ways
into their modern-day religion. But it may also be because of another
extremely important factor. Unlike so many of the ancient deities
from other cultures, who have been forgotten with the destruction
of their temples and their effigies, the essence of the sacred
worshipping places of the Rusalki still exists to this very day.
Anyone who wishes to reconnect with these ancient nature nymphs
needs only pay a visit to the forests, fields and waterways within
the vast Slavic landscape. Then again, it might even be possible
to feel the presence of the Rusalki near the aqueous spots of any
sylvan wilderness.