Chantal Boudreau's Blog - Posts Tagged "death"
Thracian Mythology as a Basis for “Sleep Escapes Us”
Sleep Escapes Us grew from an idea of zombie armies tied to some lesser known mythological figure, the latter to allow it to follow Elements of Genocide in my Darker Myths theme for NaNoWriMo. Despite the fact that it is an “alternate history” dark fantasy/ horror novel, I wanted to adhere to an existing pantheon to give it a sense of realism and a historical flavour. I needed an obscure god of death that lore reported as dying and being reborn, one to match the storyline I had in mind. I wanted the tale to be something set with an ancient civilization backdrop, so I could bring in elements of culture and tradition.
My research brought me to Zalmoxis, a Thracian god with whom I was not familiar and who had a very detailed legendary existence - that of a mortal who became a god, as outlined in Mircea Elidae’s “Zalmoxis, The Vanishing, God”. The myth fit very well with what I had planned and as I further researched the Thracian culture and the other gods they worshipped, everything seemed to fit together like carefully constructed puzzle pieces. It was easy to interweave Hecate into the tale, because of her influence over witchcraft and midwifery amongst many other things, and Bendis also proved to be a welcome find for the story, giving my characters cause to venture out into the wilderness for a fertility ritual and thereby encountering more wild zombies and avoiding the armies searching for them. Lastly came Zagreus, a god born of mortal womb for the finishing touch.
Here is a sample of what my research uncovered about each of these deities of the Thracian mythos and how they were essential to the story.
Zalmoxis: Zalmoxis was regarded as the sole god of the Getae people to which he would have taught the belief in immortality so that they considered dying merely as going to Zalmoxis. Legend had it that Zalmoxis was once a slave on Samos of Pythagoras, son of Mnesarchos. After being liberated, he gathered a huge wealth and once rich, went back to his homeland, a regular man before he became a god. Once home, he built himself a hall and those he received there he taught that none of his guests nor their descendants would ever die, but instead they would go to a place where they would live forever in a complete happiness.
Supposedly, Zalmoxis then dug an underground residence in Kagaion (also referred to as Kogainon and other variants) and, once finished, he disappeared from the Thracians going down to his underground residence. The Thracians missed him and feared him dead. Then he came back amongst them and upon his return, Thracians became in the immortality of the soul, which explained their reverence of the dead and the belief in their ascension to a better place where they would be gifted with god-like powers. Death was not to be feared, and past and present were not separate in time, but coexisted as one. Caves were considered by the Thracians as symbolic entrances to the womb of the earth. This is likely where the notion of Ialomicroaia (also referred to as Ialomicioara and other variants) Cave and Kagaion, Zalmoxis’s subterranean chamber in the Bucagi (also referred to as Bucegi) Mountains, came from.
Human sacrifice was sometimes practised by the Thracians. I based the lottery for the sacrifice to Zalmoxis on the writings Herodotus, in his “Historiae,” who spoke of sending a messenger to the god every few years (some references say four years, other say five) by means of a death ritual.
Zalmoxis was a fairly enigmatic god, so I was comfortable manipulating the myth slightly to work within my “alternate history” for ancient Thrace and Gatae. He was associated with bear skin so I incorporated into the ritual required for birthing his replacement and he was also linked to spears and the number three in his rituals, so I used that in his death scene. Because of the necessity of translation, there are variants of the name, Zalmoxis and the locations associated with his rebirth as a god.
Hecate: Goddess of the crossroads, this deity was one of multiple forms and faces, her personifications sometimes varying to a significant degree. She was the “Mysterious One”, not understood by those who did not worship her and often feared for that reason. She had both a negative persona, associated with magic, poisonous plants, witchcraft, the restless dead, necromancy, darkness, lunar lore, snakes and crossroads, and a positive persona associated with healing plants, childbirth, nurturing the young, gates and walls, doorways, torches and dogs.
Hecate had a number of depictions in art and religious iconography. Sometimes she was depicted as a singular maiden, virginal and demure, other times she was a three-faced crone or an angry, gigantic woman with snakes for feet and hair, wielding a torch and a sword, surrounded by thunder, shrieks, yells, and the barking of dogs. She was even presented as an invisible figure, appearing only as a glimpse of light. These depictions are referenced in Lewis Richard Farnell’s “The Cults of the Greek States” from Clarendon Press and “Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome: Hecate” from Anno Urbis - The Roman Empire Online.
Hecate’s mysterious nature allowed her seers in the story to be more intimidating and their hidden lairs in the catacombs beneath Lagina and her temple seemed like an appropriate home for her favoured followers in my tale. This followed with information also drawn from my research, from Strabo’s “Geography”, which stated regarding Hecate: “The place of origin of her following is uncertain, but it is thought that she had popular followings in Thrace. Her most important sanctuary was Lagina, a theocratic city-state in which the goddess was served by eunuchs. Lagina, where the famous temple of Hecate drew great festal assemblies every year ... where she was the city's patroness.”
In addition to witchcraft and midwifery, Hecate was closely associated with plant lore and the concoction of medicines and poisons. In particular she was thought to give instruction in these closely related arts. This association allowed Kerza to possess the skills she used to help Sur and Alina when they needed medical attention.
One of my sources, the Oxford Classic Dictionary, described her as: “Intrinsically ambivalent and polymorphous, she straddles conventional boundaries and eludes definition.” It was because of her varied forms and supposed assorted spheres of influence that when she made an appearance in the story, I described her as shifting and indefinable.
Bendis: The Thracians revered nature and believed in a “Great Mother”. She was goddess of wild nature. It is believed she encompassed influences from the strong fertility goddess cults which thrived in the Balkan lands during the earlier Neolithic and Chalcolithic periods (per A Spell in Time/Professor Ronald Hutton’s “Bulgarian Myth and Folklore”.)
As great mother she initiated creation, bringing forth from herself her son, who was both the sun in the daytime and the fire god at night. She united with him in divine marriage so that the cosmic cycle could be fulfilled and fertility renewed.
She supposedly had temples hidden away deep in the wilderness, a formidable location for a fertility ritual required for the conception of a new god. I felt this scene and setting were an appropriate bridge from the introduction of the story and the main characters into the centre of the action and the plot. It also allowed for a different kind of zombie battle.
Zagreus: Zagreus was the name used for Dionysus in Thrace. He was considered to be twice born, a dying and reborn god who was born of a mortal woman, one who met a premature death. He was tied to Zalmoxis in some instances and appeared to be a suitable “replacement” for the living god.
Just as with Elements of Genocide, the mythology integrated into Sleep Escapes Us blended fairly seamlessly with the story and I’m hoping that my plans for next year’s NaNo, Wearers of Skin, will combine as smoothly with Scandinavian mythology as well.
My research brought me to Zalmoxis, a Thracian god with whom I was not familiar and who had a very detailed legendary existence - that of a mortal who became a god, as outlined in Mircea Elidae’s “Zalmoxis, The Vanishing, God”. The myth fit very well with what I had planned and as I further researched the Thracian culture and the other gods they worshipped, everything seemed to fit together like carefully constructed puzzle pieces. It was easy to interweave Hecate into the tale, because of her influence over witchcraft and midwifery amongst many other things, and Bendis also proved to be a welcome find for the story, giving my characters cause to venture out into the wilderness for a fertility ritual and thereby encountering more wild zombies and avoiding the armies searching for them. Lastly came Zagreus, a god born of mortal womb for the finishing touch.
Here is a sample of what my research uncovered about each of these deities of the Thracian mythos and how they were essential to the story.
Zalmoxis: Zalmoxis was regarded as the sole god of the Getae people to which he would have taught the belief in immortality so that they considered dying merely as going to Zalmoxis. Legend had it that Zalmoxis was once a slave on Samos of Pythagoras, son of Mnesarchos. After being liberated, he gathered a huge wealth and once rich, went back to his homeland, a regular man before he became a god. Once home, he built himself a hall and those he received there he taught that none of his guests nor their descendants would ever die, but instead they would go to a place where they would live forever in a complete happiness.
Supposedly, Zalmoxis then dug an underground residence in Kagaion (also referred to as Kogainon and other variants) and, once finished, he disappeared from the Thracians going down to his underground residence. The Thracians missed him and feared him dead. Then he came back amongst them and upon his return, Thracians became in the immortality of the soul, which explained their reverence of the dead and the belief in their ascension to a better place where they would be gifted with god-like powers. Death was not to be feared, and past and present were not separate in time, but coexisted as one. Caves were considered by the Thracians as symbolic entrances to the womb of the earth. This is likely where the notion of Ialomicroaia (also referred to as Ialomicioara and other variants) Cave and Kagaion, Zalmoxis’s subterranean chamber in the Bucagi (also referred to as Bucegi) Mountains, came from.
Human sacrifice was sometimes practised by the Thracians. I based the lottery for the sacrifice to Zalmoxis on the writings Herodotus, in his “Historiae,” who spoke of sending a messenger to the god every few years (some references say four years, other say five) by means of a death ritual.
Zalmoxis was a fairly enigmatic god, so I was comfortable manipulating the myth slightly to work within my “alternate history” for ancient Thrace and Gatae. He was associated with bear skin so I incorporated into the ritual required for birthing his replacement and he was also linked to spears and the number three in his rituals, so I used that in his death scene. Because of the necessity of translation, there are variants of the name, Zalmoxis and the locations associated with his rebirth as a god.
Hecate: Goddess of the crossroads, this deity was one of multiple forms and faces, her personifications sometimes varying to a significant degree. She was the “Mysterious One”, not understood by those who did not worship her and often feared for that reason. She had both a negative persona, associated with magic, poisonous plants, witchcraft, the restless dead, necromancy, darkness, lunar lore, snakes and crossroads, and a positive persona associated with healing plants, childbirth, nurturing the young, gates and walls, doorways, torches and dogs.
Hecate had a number of depictions in art and religious iconography. Sometimes she was depicted as a singular maiden, virginal and demure, other times she was a three-faced crone or an angry, gigantic woman with snakes for feet and hair, wielding a torch and a sword, surrounded by thunder, shrieks, yells, and the barking of dogs. She was even presented as an invisible figure, appearing only as a glimpse of light. These depictions are referenced in Lewis Richard Farnell’s “The Cults of the Greek States” from Clarendon Press and “Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome: Hecate” from Anno Urbis - The Roman Empire Online.
Hecate’s mysterious nature allowed her seers in the story to be more intimidating and their hidden lairs in the catacombs beneath Lagina and her temple seemed like an appropriate home for her favoured followers in my tale. This followed with information also drawn from my research, from Strabo’s “Geography”, which stated regarding Hecate: “The place of origin of her following is uncertain, but it is thought that she had popular followings in Thrace. Her most important sanctuary was Lagina, a theocratic city-state in which the goddess was served by eunuchs. Lagina, where the famous temple of Hecate drew great festal assemblies every year ... where she was the city's patroness.”
In addition to witchcraft and midwifery, Hecate was closely associated with plant lore and the concoction of medicines and poisons. In particular she was thought to give instruction in these closely related arts. This association allowed Kerza to possess the skills she used to help Sur and Alina when they needed medical attention.
One of my sources, the Oxford Classic Dictionary, described her as: “Intrinsically ambivalent and polymorphous, she straddles conventional boundaries and eludes definition.” It was because of her varied forms and supposed assorted spheres of influence that when she made an appearance in the story, I described her as shifting and indefinable.
Bendis: The Thracians revered nature and believed in a “Great Mother”. She was goddess of wild nature. It is believed she encompassed influences from the strong fertility goddess cults which thrived in the Balkan lands during the earlier Neolithic and Chalcolithic periods (per A Spell in Time/Professor Ronald Hutton’s “Bulgarian Myth and Folklore”.)
As great mother she initiated creation, bringing forth from herself her son, who was both the sun in the daytime and the fire god at night. She united with him in divine marriage so that the cosmic cycle could be fulfilled and fertility renewed.
She supposedly had temples hidden away deep in the wilderness, a formidable location for a fertility ritual required for the conception of a new god. I felt this scene and setting were an appropriate bridge from the introduction of the story and the main characters into the centre of the action and the plot. It also allowed for a different kind of zombie battle.
Zagreus: Zagreus was the name used for Dionysus in Thrace. He was considered to be twice born, a dying and reborn god who was born of a mortal woman, one who met a premature death. He was tied to Zalmoxis in some instances and appeared to be a suitable “replacement” for the living god.
Just as with Elements of Genocide, the mythology integrated into Sleep Escapes Us blended fairly seamlessly with the story and I’m hoping that my plans for next year’s NaNo, Wearers of Skin, will combine as smoothly with Scandinavian mythology as well.
Thracian Culture in “Sleep Escapes Us” – Beyond Mythology
When I decide to write "Sleep Escapes Us" as an alternate history of Thrace, I wanted to seed the tale with details that reflected the actual culture of ancient Thrace - other than the mythos of that location - to give it a truly Thracian flavour. During my research, I managed to dredge up a series of interesting tidbits that I felt I could thread into my story to make it seem more realistic, despite the magic and the zombies.
One great source for this was Tosho Spiridonov, Roumyana Georgieva and Maria Rejo’s “Ethnology of the Thracians”. It discussed their dwellings and lifestyle, and provided me with such details as predominant foods (the lentil and cabbage mash that Zelmis was fed at the Temple of Zalmoxis,) fabric and fashions (the tunics, leggings and zeira, the multi-coloured cloak commonly worn by the Thracian people, as well as their types of adornment,) and the use of tattoos (which I applied with the tally marks.)
In addition to common lifestyle, I also found information on religious rituals, including descriptions of animal sacrifices and the ritual pits where they occurred, performed in hewn rock niches. These details allowed me to present Zalmoxis’s Temple with the type of character it should have as a proper exhibit of the worship of death. There was also mention of the funerary feast Zelmis was hunting to provide for at the beginning of the book, part of the Thracian burial rituals. In fact, Roumyana Georgieva outlines the funeral rites in great detail:
“Burial rites occupy an extremely important if not foremost position in the Thracian system of customs, due to the fact that the dead ranked higher than the living in ancient Thrace. All rituals performed between the occurrence of death and the closing of the grave (the closing of the eyes and jaws of the deceased, bathing, preparation of the body which was left for three days to lie at stake, mourning, animal sacrifices and burial feast) were aimed mainly at facilitating the deceased individual to make his transition to the world beyond. The faith in his supernatural power, together, with the apprehension or hope that he is capable of influencing the fate of the living, were among the reasons for the exceptional care devoted to the dead in Thrace.”
Since funeral rites were an important part of the culture, it made sense for them to also play a strong role in the book, particularly since the story surrounded the mythology of the Thracian god of death.
Another cultural factor with a strong impact on the story was the fact the Thracians had no written language of their own. That was the reasoning behind Alina seeking out Kerza in the first place, and the repercussions of the situation had significant influence in the story. It also meant I had liberty to play around with some of the cultural aspects within the tale since historically, they are vague. Most of what is known about the Thracians comes from their “archaeological remains, and from the Greek writers who were their contemporaries” (per Moni, from the A Spell in Time group - she did not provide me with a last name - in “Background to Bulgarian Myth and Folklore.”) They are sketchy at best, allowing for extrapolation.
Overall, I think I was able to incorporate enough of what was known about the Thracian culture to give Sleep Escapes Us a distinct Thracian flavour. It was definitely one of the more interesting cultures I’ve ever researched.
One great source for this was Tosho Spiridonov, Roumyana Georgieva and Maria Rejo’s “Ethnology of the Thracians”. It discussed their dwellings and lifestyle, and provided me with such details as predominant foods (the lentil and cabbage mash that Zelmis was fed at the Temple of Zalmoxis,) fabric and fashions (the tunics, leggings and zeira, the multi-coloured cloak commonly worn by the Thracian people, as well as their types of adornment,) and the use of tattoos (which I applied with the tally marks.)
In addition to common lifestyle, I also found information on religious rituals, including descriptions of animal sacrifices and the ritual pits where they occurred, performed in hewn rock niches. These details allowed me to present Zalmoxis’s Temple with the type of character it should have as a proper exhibit of the worship of death. There was also mention of the funerary feast Zelmis was hunting to provide for at the beginning of the book, part of the Thracian burial rituals. In fact, Roumyana Georgieva outlines the funeral rites in great detail:
“Burial rites occupy an extremely important if not foremost position in the Thracian system of customs, due to the fact that the dead ranked higher than the living in ancient Thrace. All rituals performed between the occurrence of death and the closing of the grave (the closing of the eyes and jaws of the deceased, bathing, preparation of the body which was left for three days to lie at stake, mourning, animal sacrifices and burial feast) were aimed mainly at facilitating the deceased individual to make his transition to the world beyond. The faith in his supernatural power, together, with the apprehension or hope that he is capable of influencing the fate of the living, were among the reasons for the exceptional care devoted to the dead in Thrace.”
Since funeral rites were an important part of the culture, it made sense for them to also play a strong role in the book, particularly since the story surrounded the mythology of the Thracian god of death.
Another cultural factor with a strong impact on the story was the fact the Thracians had no written language of their own. That was the reasoning behind Alina seeking out Kerza in the first place, and the repercussions of the situation had significant influence in the story. It also meant I had liberty to play around with some of the cultural aspects within the tale since historically, they are vague. Most of what is known about the Thracians comes from their “archaeological remains, and from the Greek writers who were their contemporaries” (per Moni, from the A Spell in Time group - she did not provide me with a last name - in “Background to Bulgarian Myth and Folklore.”) They are sketchy at best, allowing for extrapolation.
Overall, I think I was able to incorporate enough of what was known about the Thracian culture to give Sleep Escapes Us a distinct Thracian flavour. It was definitely one of the more interesting cultures I’ve ever researched.
I Like to Kill People...
…in my stories, that is. What did you think I meant?
There was an interesting conversation thread amongst some writer friends today about killing off characters, and whether any of us regretted killing one off in a particular story, or if we ever rewrote a story to restore a character to life. Truth is that while I do sometimes find it difficult to kill off a favourite character, I won’t hesitate to do so for the sake of a plot. In fact, I have killed off entire villages and races out of necessity to further a storyline.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one for gratuitous violence (funny coming from a horror writer, eh?) and I don’t make a practice of killing characters I dislike out of spite, but if you are writing a story where people are at risk of grievous bodily harm on a regular basis, or are in the midst of a war, and nobody ever dies, how realistic is that? I can think of several books I wanted to throw across the room because the only characters who die are bad guys or people who show up just in time to be slaughtered. I refuse to limit the deaths in my own stories to villains and to “red-shirts.” A death has a much greater impact if the character is one the reader actually cares about.
I’m also not saying that there aren’t meaningless deaths that will occur in a tale, especially one that involves war, disease or other hardships, but if you are going to bump off a preferred primary character, it helps if there is a reason for it. Perhaps that character’s death will serve as a catalyst for uniting people who are at odds with one another, or as a sacrifice to launch into motion a significant event that will help others. Perhaps they are willing to martyr themselves for a just cause or to exact revenge. Suicides, accidents, murder, or death by old age – it doesn’t matter the method since it is going to happen to everyone eventually. The death of a main character can add plenty of flavour and meaning to a story, even if their loss might make the reader cringe or cry. After all, isn’t part of the reason we write to move people in some way?
I’ve had my beta reader call me “murderer” for weeks at a time, but I would never go back and change one of those unhappy occurrences merely to appease her. That being said, on one occasion, and only one, I changed my mind about killing a character because of something she told me while reading the earlier chapters prior to a planned death. I don’t know if she even realized that she had spared that character’s life, but I don’t regret letting him live either.
And death is not necessarily the end of a character, especially not in a horror or fantasy setting. They can reappear in your tale, be it via dreams, time travel, rising as one of the undead, magical resurrection or even just the reminiscing of other characters. It’s up to the writer whether or not the character will die completely or be revisited in some other way, shape or form.
Just to let you know, if a death of a character in one of my stories makes you cry, there’s a good chance it made me cry too. When I know I’m about to have someone important breathe their last breath, I find a dark corner with my netbook and my box of tissues, and warn everyone else to leave me alone.
After all, just because I like to kill people, it doesn’t mean I’m heartless.
There was an interesting conversation thread amongst some writer friends today about killing off characters, and whether any of us regretted killing one off in a particular story, or if we ever rewrote a story to restore a character to life. Truth is that while I do sometimes find it difficult to kill off a favourite character, I won’t hesitate to do so for the sake of a plot. In fact, I have killed off entire villages and races out of necessity to further a storyline.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one for gratuitous violence (funny coming from a horror writer, eh?) and I don’t make a practice of killing characters I dislike out of spite, but if you are writing a story where people are at risk of grievous bodily harm on a regular basis, or are in the midst of a war, and nobody ever dies, how realistic is that? I can think of several books I wanted to throw across the room because the only characters who die are bad guys or people who show up just in time to be slaughtered. I refuse to limit the deaths in my own stories to villains and to “red-shirts.” A death has a much greater impact if the character is one the reader actually cares about.
I’m also not saying that there aren’t meaningless deaths that will occur in a tale, especially one that involves war, disease or other hardships, but if you are going to bump off a preferred primary character, it helps if there is a reason for it. Perhaps that character’s death will serve as a catalyst for uniting people who are at odds with one another, or as a sacrifice to launch into motion a significant event that will help others. Perhaps they are willing to martyr themselves for a just cause or to exact revenge. Suicides, accidents, murder, or death by old age – it doesn’t matter the method since it is going to happen to everyone eventually. The death of a main character can add plenty of flavour and meaning to a story, even if their loss might make the reader cringe or cry. After all, isn’t part of the reason we write to move people in some way?
I’ve had my beta reader call me “murderer” for weeks at a time, but I would never go back and change one of those unhappy occurrences merely to appease her. That being said, on one occasion, and only one, I changed my mind about killing a character because of something she told me while reading the earlier chapters prior to a planned death. I don’t know if she even realized that she had spared that character’s life, but I don’t regret letting him live either.
And death is not necessarily the end of a character, especially not in a horror or fantasy setting. They can reappear in your tale, be it via dreams, time travel, rising as one of the undead, magical resurrection or even just the reminiscing of other characters. It’s up to the writer whether or not the character will die completely or be revisited in some other way, shape or form.
Just to let you know, if a death of a character in one of my stories makes you cry, there’s a good chance it made me cry too. When I know I’m about to have someone important breathe their last breath, I find a dark corner with my netbook and my box of tissues, and warn everyone else to leave me alone.
After all, just because I like to kill people, it doesn’t mean I’m heartless.
