Boria Sax. The Serpent and the Swan: the Animal Bride in
Folklore and Literature.
Reviewed by Gary Kern,
Published by H-Nilas
(April, 1999)
Available at: http://sts.nthu.edu.tw/twmed/Humanities_Viewpoints/Medical_Anthropology/Book_Review/h-net-14257924619889.html
This is a beautifully produced and beautifully reasoned book. The author, Boria
Sax, begins his exploration by stating that he prefers not to follow any
particular school of interpretation; his goal is not to reconstruct,
deconstruct or ideologically exploit the oft-repeated story of the animal
bride, but to find the human meaning in it. This approach is refreshing,
rewarding and eminently readable: we are introduced not to pedantic terminology
and academic analysis designed to demonstrate the brilliance of the analyst,
but rather to a calm and thoughtful voice speaking to us as reasoning and feeling
human beings. The method is open, eclectic, directed by expert knowledge and
common sense like that of Joseph Campbell, but perhaps with fewer
preconceptions than even that great guru.
Having dismissed the "isms," Sax
asks a number of direct and disarming questions: What is nature? What is
animal? What is human? What is gender? What is marriage? He devotes a brief
discussion to each. The picture that emerges is that mankind in the course of
its development separated itself conceptually from nature, but ever after felt
the need to return. Yet the concept of "nature" is not fixed; it
changes with society and remains largely a mystery, as do the animals within
it. One way of re- establishing the connection is through imagination,
storytelling, mythmaking. Add the reminder that humans
and animals, representative of nature, can form a bond as close as a marriage, that a man may call his sweetheart his pet, and
you have the psychological preconditions for the story of the animal marriage.
There are animal brides and animal grooms,
and they figure not only in remote legends and tales, but in literature central
to the development of our civilization. Such are Gilgamesh and Enkidu; Adam, Eve and the Serpent; and the accounts of
animal worship or reverence that punctuate the narratives of the Old and New
Testaments: the Golden Calf, fiery snakes, Beelzebub. Such outbreaks of
zoolatry, which continue on through the Middle Ages
and up to the weird cults of our time, Sax interprets as revolts against the
anthropomorphic gods that replaced the original animal ones. He shows how many
peoples traced their origins back to animals, how noble families liked to claim
a romantic or mysterious link to mythical beasts. He touches on the fears
animals awaken in humans, such as lawlessness, sensuality, incest. In telling
examples he demonstrates Christianity's uneasy truce with animals, as in its
imagery and designations of Lamb and Lion. He mentions the magical powers of
animals, released in ceremonies such as snake-handling.
Coming to his chief subject, Sax explores the
protean power of the serpent and the swan, the one shedding its skin and
achieving rebirth, the other moulting, swimming and
taking wing, both sinuous and mysterious. The crucial story here is Melusine, a water nymph who agrees to marry a smitten young
hunter on condition that he leave her in peace on Saturdays and not visit her
in her room; they live happily, beget a brood of children with animal traits,
till Count Raymond, moved by evil rumors of her faithlessness, looks in one
Saturday on Melusine and sees a serpent's body
sprouting from her waist. In the ensuing argument, she rises up birdlike and
flies around the castle, then leaves him forever. Yet she watches unseen as a
good spirit over her family. The story relates to Orpheus and Eurydice; Medea; mermaids; pagan and neo-pagan goddesses.
Sax's rich discussion of the the theme, taking it up through the twentieth century,
concludes with a plea for "a sacramental view of animal rights." In a
world where machines have replaced animal helpers and assumed their
qualities--the car in place of the beloved horse, the security system in place
of the trusty dog--people long for a return to the past and a supposed golden
age of harmony with nature. They keep pets--there are more pets in
Instead, he thinks meaningful contact with
nature can be reestablished by a "principle of fair compensation."
That is, paying back the animals that support us in medical research, nutrition
and commercial imagery by performing small rituals of thanksgiving and by
giving donations to benefit others of their species. He thinks the image of
fair Melusine, serpentine in her form, human in her
love, elusive in her mystery, can inspire us. She is, writes Sax, "the
humanity glimpsed in the eyes of a squirrel. She is the whale sinking beneath
the waves."
The question whether this way is open to
many, or only to the few, is not addressed. My guess is that most men will lose
all contact with animals, save perhaps their pets, and satisfy themselves with
TV images and falsified nature films. The animal world will arise only in their
unconscious mind, their dreams and fears. The few who practice rituals of
compensation will fall into the category of isolated kooks. That is where most
individuals are headed.
The book is wonderfully illustrated with line
drawings, some quite rare, taken from many ages and cultures, and includes
retellings of the outstanding animal bride stories.