Constellation Piscis Austrinus: the great fish

It's time for another constellation: Piscis Austrinus: the great (or 'Southern') fish. It's also known as Piscis Australis, and prior to the 20th century, it was known as Piscis Notius. It was one of the 48 constellations listed by the 2nd century astronomer Ptolemy, and it remains one of the 88 modern constellations. The stars of the modern constellation Grus once formed the 'tail' of Piscis Austrinus.

In Hellenic mythology, this constellation is known as the Great Fish and it is portrayed as swallowing the water being poured out by Aquarius, the water carrier. The two fish of the constellation Pisces are said to be the offspring of the Great Fish. From Hyginus' 'Astronomica' comes the follow reason for his placement in the sky:

This is the Fish that is called Southern. He seems to take water in his mouth from the sign of Aquarius. Once, when Isis was in labor, he is thought to have saved her, and as a reward for this kindness she placed the fish and its young, about whom we have spoken before, among the stars. As a result the Syrians generally do not eat fish, and worship their gilded likenesses as household gods. Ctesias, too, writes about this. [II.41]

Aratos, too, confirms the position of the Great Fish in his 'Phaenomena'. Amongst other mentions, he writes:

"Below Aegoceros before the blasts of the South Wind swims a Fish, facing Cetus, alone and part from the former Fishes; and him men call the Southern Fish. Other stars, sparsely set beneath Hydrochoüs [Aquarius], hang on high between Cetus in the heavens and the Fish, dim and nameless, and near them on the right hand of bright Hydrochoüs, like some sprinked drops of water lightly shed on this side and on that, other stars wheel bright-eyed though weak." [385 - 389]

Needless to say, this is a minor constellation. It is visible at latitudes between +55° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of October.

• Wednesday, September 15, 2021
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos Constellation series Hyginus

Constellation Lupus: the wolf

Before we get started on this one, I need to tell you that the interpretation of 'wolf' is a Roman one; The romans translated Ptolemy's work from Greek to Latin, and translated the constellation named 'Therion' as 'wolf', instead of the more general 'beast' or 'animal'. As such, the constellation did not actually represent a wolf until Roman times, but we are stuck with the Roman names, so I went with 'wolf' for the post's title.

The stars of the constellation Lupus were once considered to be part of the constellation Centaurus, where they represented an animal being impaled on a pole by the centaur, who was holding it toward the constellation Ara, the altar, as though he were about to sacrifice it. The Hellenic astronomer Hipparch separated the constellation from Centaurus and named it Therion in the second century BC.

Because the separation came so late, many references to Lupus are in connection to Centaurus and Ara. Aratos, for example, in his 'Phaenomena':

"The constellation of Centaur [Centaurus] thou wilt find beneath two others. For part in human form lies beneath Scorpio, but the rest, a horse’s trunk and tail, are beneath the Claws. He ever seems to stretch his right hand towards the round Altar, but though his hand is drawn and firmly grasped another sign – the Beast [Fera], for so men of old have named it." [436]

Hyginus, in his 'Astronomica' echoes this, linking Lupus to the constellation Centaurus. In his version, the Centaur holding out a sacrifice is either Kheiron or Pholus; Kheiron because he dropped a poisoned arrow on his foot and perished, and Pholus for his Gods-given powers of divination:

"When Hercules was once visiting Chiron, and while sitting with him was examining his arrows, one of them is said to have fallen on the foot of Chiron, and thus brought about his death. Others say that when the Centaur wondered at his being able to kill such huge creatures as Centauri with such slight arrows, he himself tried to draw the bow, and the arrow, slipping from his hand, fell on his foot. For this reason Jupiter [Zeus], pitying him, put him among the constellations with a victim which he seems to hold above the altar for sacrifice. Others have said that he is Pholus the Centaurus, who was more skilled in augury that the rest. Consequently, by the will of Jove [Zeus], he was represented coming to the altar with a victim." [II.38]
 

The constellation Lupus is a minor constellation, and in ancient writings, you won't be able to connect it to the wolf at all, especially because wolves--if they ever ended up being sacrificed on an altar at all--would most likely only be sacrificed in cult worship. It was not a regular sacrificial animal, but may have been a part of the worship of Gods with the 'Lykaion' epithet--like Zeus and Apollon.

The constellation is visible at latitudes between +35° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of June.

• Tuesday, July 13, 2021
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos astronomy Constellation series epithets Hyginus Kheiron Pholus Ptolemy Roman

Constellation Libra: the scales or claws

Today I am doing another constellation post, and this time it is about a bit of an oddity: a constellation that the ancient Hellenes saw only as a part of another constellation. Often the names we use for the constellations are Roman, but the ancient Hellenes at least identified the constellation in the same way. Not so with Libra: to the ancient Romans, Libra represented scales, to the ancient Hellenes, the claws of the constellation Scorpio. As such, it was known by two names: Zyygos (the Scales) or Khêlai (the Claws).

The constellation Scorpio--which we will get to at a later date--was placed into the sky because of mythology that connexts him to Orion, the great hunter. In ancient times, the constellation Libra was almost solely identified with the scorpion, but eventually, another connection came to pass--to the constellation Virgo. The above image represents both connections. Hyginus, in his Astronomica, makes the connection between the scorpion and the scales best:

"This sign is divided into two parts on account of the great spread of the claws. One part of it our writers have called the Balance." [II. 26]

Hyginus (64 BC – AD 17), however, was a Latin author. Earlier work--for example by 3rd century BC poet Aratos, reveals nothing about scales. In his Phaenomena, he discusses the placement of Libra repeatedly:

"Toward the Crown leans the Serpent’s jaw, but beneath his coiling form seek thou for the mighty Claws [Libra]; they are scant of light and nowise briljant. [...] There too are the most swift courses of the Ram [Aries], who, pursued through the longest circuit, runs not a whit slower than the Bear Cynosura – himself weak and starless as on a moonlit night, but yet by the belt of Andromeda thou canst trace him out. For a little below her is he set. Midway he treads the mighty heavens, where wheel the tips of the Scorpion’s Claws and the Belt of Orion. [...] The constellation of Centaur [Centaurus] thou wilt find beneath two others. For part in human form lies beneath Scorpio, but the rest, a horse’s trunk and tail, are beneath the Claws. [...] In it [the equater] are the Belt of the well-starred Orion and the coil of the gleaming Hydra: in it, too, the dim-lit Crater and the Crow and the scanty-starred Claws and the knees of Ophiuchus are borne. [...] In it is the Crag; after the Crab the Lion and beneath him the Maiden; after the Maiden the Claws and the Scorpion himself and the Archer and Aegoceros, and after Aegoceros Hydrochoüs. [...] Nor can the rising Claws [Libra], though faintly shining, pass unremarked, when at a bound the mighty sign of Boötes rises, jeweled with Arcturus. Aloft is risen all of Argo, but the Hydra, shed as she is afar over the heavens, will lack her tail. The Claws bring only the right leg as far as the thigh of that Phantom that is ever On his Knees, ever crouching by the Lyre – that Phantom, unknown among the figures of the heavens, whom we often see both rise and set on the selfsame night. Of him only the leg is visible at the rising of both the Claws: he himself head-downward on the other side awaits the rising Scorpion and the Drawer of the Bow. For they bring him: Scorpion brings his waist and all aforesaid; the Bow his left hand and head. Even so in three portions is he all brought up piecemeal above the horizon. Half the Crown and the tip of the Centaur’s tail are upraised with the rising Claws." [88, 225, 436, 511, 544, 607]

About the connection to the constellation Virgo, many later writers have something to say, although very few of those words are in the public domain. Two Goddesses were identified with the scales by (mostly) the Romans: Astraia (Αστραια), daughter of Zeus and Themis, and Tykhe (Τυχη), daughter of Zeus. There is no Hellenic source to tie either of them to the constellation.

Manilius, a Roman poet, astrologer, and author from the 1st century AD, in his 'Astronomica' spoke of the influence of Libra for those born under it, writing:

"Balancing night with the length of day, the Scales will bestow the employment of weights and measures and a son to emulate the talents of Palamedes, who first assigned numbers, and to these numbers names, fixed magnitudes and individual symbols. He will be acquainted with the tables of law, abstruse legal points, and words denoted by compendious signs; he will know what is permissible and the penalties incurred by doing what is forbidden; in his own house he is a people's magistrate holding lifelong office… Indeed, whatever stands in dispute and needs a ruling the pointer of the balance will determine." [Loeb p.239]

Libra, especially for the Hellenes, was a minor constellation--part of another constellation, and barely connected to mythology. In modern times, however, the failt constellation has gained its share of fame. The constellation Libra is visible at latitudes between +65° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of June.

• Thursday, July 1, 2021
  Aratos Astraia astronomy Constellation series Hyginus Manilius Mythology 101 Orion Ptolemy Tykhe

Constellation Hydra: the sea-serpent

It's time for part three of the series-within-a-series featuring the myth of Apollon and the raven. The previous parts were the constellation Corvus: the Raven, and the Constellation Crater: the Cup. This third installment is about the longest constellation we still recognize as a constellation today: Hydra, or the sea-serpent.

To recap the story of Apollon and the raven: the raven (or crow) was in service to Apollon, and was sent out on an errant for the Theos. He was asked to bring water to Him, but instead, he paused in his quest. Most commonly it is assumed is that he stopped for a meal of figs. When the raven returned without water, Apollon questioned him. Instead of giving a straight answer, the raven lied, and said he had been kept from the water by a snake. In some accounts, he actually had a snake in his talons as he said this. Apollon, however, saw that the raven was lying, and flung the raven, the krater with which the raven was supposed to collect water, as well as the snake into the sky, where they remain to this day.

Roman author Gaius Julius Hyginus (64 BC - 17 AD) talks about the serpent's continued function in his Astronomica:

"This is the sign on which the Crow sits and over which the Bowl is placed. [...] As long as the figs are ripening, the crow cannot drink, because on those days he has a sore throat. So when the god wished to illustrate the thirst of the crow, he put the bowl among the constellations, and placed the water-snake underneath to delay the thirsty crow. For the crow seems to peck at the end of its tail to be allowed to go over to the bowl." [2.40]

Another hydra the constellation is associated with is the Hydra vanquished by Hēraklēs as his second labour. After his victory over the Nemean lion, Hēraklēs is send off to handle another sticky problem: the Lernaean Hydra, who was raised from the earth by Hera just to end the life of Hēraklēs. The Lernaean Hydra (Λερναία Ὕδρα) was the offspring of Typhon, and layered in the swampy lake of Lerna. He realized he would need help for this labour, and asked it of his nephew Iolaus (Ἰόλαος). Together they devised a plan: Hēraklēs would cut off the heads, and Iolaus would sear the stumps shut, in this way, the heads could not regenerate. When Hēraklēs returns to Eurystheus after completing the labour, the king decrees that, because Hēraklēs could not have completed the labour without the help of Iolaus, the labour will not count against his total, and he will have to do an extra one to fulfill his debt.

On the hydra, Pausanias writes in his 'History of Greece'. He speaks of the birth place of the hydra, and of his alleged number of heads:

"At the source of the Amymone grows a plane tree, beneath which, they say, the hydra (water-snake) grew. I am ready to believe that this beast was superior in size to other water-snakes, and that its poison had something in it so deadly that Heracles treated the points of his arrows with its gall. It had, however, in my opinion, one head, and not several. It was Peisander76 of Camirus who, in order that the beast might appear more frightful and his poetry might be more remarkable, represented the hydra with its many heads." [2.37.4]

Constellations are often associated with the constellations they are surrounded with, and with no constellation this is clearer than with Hydra. Aratos, a Hellenic poet who flourished in Macedonia in the early third century BC, speaks best of Hydra in regards to his surrounding constellations in his 'Phaenomena':

"Another constellation trails beyond, which men call the Hydra. Like a living creature it winds afar its coiling form. Its head comes beneath the middle of the Crab, its coil beneath the body of the Lion, and its tail hangs above the Centaur himself. Midway on its coiling form is set the Crater, and at the tip the figure of a Raven that seems to peck at the coil." [443]

The constellation Hydra is visible at latitudes between +54° and −83°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of April.

• Monday, June 14, 2021
  Apollon Aratos astronomy Constellation series Hēraklēs Hyginus Mythology 101 Pausanias Ptolemy

Constellations Corona Australis & Corona Borealis: the two crowns

Because it's been a while since the last constellation, and yesterday's blog post hardly counted, I'm going to give you not one but two constellations today (also because it's much easier to describe both in one post, seeing as the mythology surrounding these two has mixed throughout the years, so I'm really just making it easier on myself).

The Corona Australis, the southern crown, is located in the southern hemisphere, next to the constellation Sagittarius. As such, it is often linked to that constellation and regarded as the wreath that fell off of the head of one of the kéntauros that particular constellation is linked to. In the same regard, it is also linked to the kéntauros 'Centaurus'.

Corona Australis is most often regarded as a wreath, but in some descriptions and depictions, the Corona Australis is a crown. There is, however, one myth in which the Corona Australis does not depict a wreath or crown: in this myth, the constellation represents Ixion, king of the Lapits, who fell in love with Hera after being invited up to Olympos by Zeus. Zeus decided to test his integrity after He discovered His guest' lust for Hera, but Ixion failed miserably. Ixion was expelled from Olympus and blasted with a thunderbolt for failing his test. Zeus then ordered Hermes to bind Ixion to a winged fiery wheel that was always spinning. Therefore, Ixion is bound to a burning solar wheel for all eternity, at first spinning across the heavens, then into Tartaros. The Corona Australis is this very wheel, with Ixion tied to it.

The most famous of myths associated with the Corona Australis is the story of the birth of Dionysos, and the death of His mother Semele. In this version of the myth, Dionysos is born from Semele and Zeus, and while Semele is pregnant with Him, Hera plants seeds of doubt in her mind about the father of the child truly being Zeus. Semele asks Zeus to reveal Himself to her in His true form, and when He is left with no other option, He does so, killing her in the process. Zeus takes pity on His child, and takes Him into either His thigh or testicle, where He is eventually born from. When Dionysos grows up, He raises Semele to Olympos and grants her eternal life. He also places a wreath into the sky to honor her. The wreath would be made of myrtle leaves, for Dionysos left a gift of myrtle in the Underworld in return for His mother, and the followers of Dionysos wore crowns of myrtle.

Interestingly enough, Roman author Hyginus ascribes this myth to the Corona Borealis, and adds that Dionysos first received this wreath--now a golden crown--from Aphrodite. He gave it to His beloved Ariadne, daughter of Minos. According to Hyginus, it was the light that reflected off of this crown, that led Theseus from the labyrinth after slaying the minotaur. Hyginus then goes on to retell the story above, and says that Dionysos did not want to take the crown into the Underworld in fear of it being contaminated with miasma. When He returned from the Underworld, he threw the golden crown into the sky as a memorial.

Hyginus also gives another account for the the northern crown, the Corona Borealis:

"It is said that when Theseus came to Crete to Minos with seven maidens and six youths, Minos, inflamed by the beauty of one of the maidens, Eriboea by name, wished to lie with her. Theseus, as was fitting for a son of Neptune[Poseidon], and one able to strive against a tyrant for a girl’s safety, refused to allow this. So when the dispute became one not about the girl but about the parentage of Theseus, whether he was the son of Neptune or not, Minos is said to have drawn a gold ring from his finger and cast it into the sea. 

He bade Theseus bring it back, if he wanted him to believe he was a son of Neptune; as for himself, he could easily show he was a son of Jove [Zeus]. So, invoking his father, he asked for some sign to prove he was his son, and straightway thunder and lightning gave token of assent. For a similar reason, Theseus, without any invoking of his father or obligation of an oath, cast himself into the sea. And at once a great swarm of dolphins, tumbling forward over the sea, led him through gently swelling waves to the Nereids. 

From them he brought back the ring of Minos and a crown, bright with many gems, from Thetis, which she had received at her wedding as a gift from Venus [Aphrodite]. Others say that the crown came from the wife of Neptune, and Theseus is said to have given it to Ariadne as a gift, when on account of his valor and courage she was given to him in marriage. After Ariadne’s death, Liber [Dionysos] placed it among the constellations."

As you can see, there are many myths surrounding the two crowns. The Hellenic poet Aratos named them 'Stephanoi' (Στεφάνοι) around 300 BC, but did not differnetiate between the two, although they are not placed close together. As such, the Stephanoi are visible and best viewed at different times throughout the year. The Corona Australis is visible at latitudes between +40° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of August. The Corona Borealis, located near the constellations of Hēraklēs and Boötes, is visible at latitudes between +90° and −50°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of July.

• Friday, March 26, 2021
  Amphitrite Aphrodite Aratos Ariadne astronomy Centaurs Constellation series Dionysos Hyginus Minos Mythology 101 Poseidon Ptolemy Semele

Memorial tomb of ancient Hellenic astronomer Aratus unearthed in Turkey

Archaeologists working in the ancient Hellenic city of Soli Pompeipolis in the southern Mersin province in Turkey have unveiled the memorial tomb of the Greek poet and astronomer Aratus, who was born in 315 BC.

The city, located in the ancient region of Paphlagonia, was still prominent during Roman times but was only rediscovered in the 1800s with the unearthing of the ruins of Zımbıllı Tepe in the Black Sea region of the country.

Soli Pompeipolis, lying just across the river from Taşköprü, in the Gökırmak (Greek: Amnias) Valley, in ancient times stretched as far as the Küre and Ilgaz mountains

The tomb of the gifted poet and astronomer is being excavated by Professor Remzi Yağcı, who is the head of the Department of Museology at Turkey’s Dokuz Eylül University.

According to the archaeologist, the discovery is of lasting importance to the history of the area and will be of great interest to travelers who will want to see the monument. Speaking to interviewers from the Anadolu News Agency, Yağcı said “For the first time, a memorial tomb has been unearthed linked to the archaeology of the ancient city of Soli Pompeiopolis.

“Aside from more familiar structures, such as the colonnaded streets, the ancient port, the theater, and the bathhouse, something very unique has been found. This find brings dynamism to the ancient city and can influence tourism in the region – for both those interested in cultural heritage and general visitors to the region.”

The unearthing of the ruins has been ongoing since July 20 of this year, Yağcı said. Showing photographs of the unique discovery, he indicated the two rows of hexagonal structures and arches around the memorial tomb that had been unearthed by his workers.

“This place looks like a crater, and has a circular area (that could have been used by) an astronomer. We have also come across a solid and large monumental structure.”

Yağcı added that Aratus was widely known during both the Hellenistic and Roman periods and his works on astronomy, as well as his poetry, are still read and studied to this day.

Additionally, he noted that NASA had named a crater on the moon after the brilliant Greek thinker, leading the archaeologist to hope that the tomb of the great man will one day be included on the UNESCO World Cultural Heritage List.

• Saturday, October 17, 2020
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos archeology current affairs

Aratos' Hymn to Zeus

What I love most about Hellenismos is the treasure trove of ancient texts at our disposal. This wisdom, information, and simple insights into daily life or ritual worship help us form our practice, and shape our world views. As I try to devote as much time to research for this blog and my personal practice as I can responsibly spare, I come across many of these gems in scholarly notes, or straight there by way of Google. Today's beautiful text, however, comes courtesy of my good friend and fellow core member of Elaion, Robert Clark. In many of our PAT rituals that honour Zeus, he includes this text to recite. It was written by Aratos, and comes from his excellent Phaenomena.

Aratos of Soli (Ἄρᾱτος ὁ Σολεύς) was a Hellenic poet who flourished in Macedonia in the early third century BC. His major extant work is his hexameter poem Phaenomena (Φαινόμενα, 'Appearances'), the first half of which is a verse setting of a lost work of the same name by Eudoxus of Cnidus. It describes the constellations and other celestial phenomena. The second half is called the Diosemeia (Διοσημεῖα, 'Forecasts'), and is chiefly about weather lore. Although Aratos was somewhat ignorant of Hellenic astronomy, his poem was very popular in the Hellenic and Roman world, as is proved by the large number of commentaries and Latin translations, some of which survive.

Aratos kicks off his Phaenomena off with something of a hymn to Zeus, a bit of text to praise the King of the Gods which has become a favourite of Robert and I. Enjoy!

Aratos - Hymn to Zeus

From the Phaenomena, translated by G. R. Mair

From Zeus let us begin;

him do we mortals never leave unnamed;

full of Zeus are all the streets and all the market-places of men;

full is the sea and the havens thereof;

always we all have need of Zeus.

For we are also his offspring;

and he in his kindness unto men giveth favorable signs

and wakeneth the people to work, reminding them of livelihood.

He tells what time the soil is best for the labor of the ox and for the mattock,

and what time the seasons are favorable both for the planting of trees

and for casting all manner of seeds.

For himself it was who set the signs in heaven,

and marked out the constellations,

and for the year devised what stars chiefly should give to men right signs of the seasons,

to the end that all things might grow unfailingly.

Wherefore Him do men ever worship first and last.

Hail, O Father, mighty marvel, mighty blessing unto men.

Hail to thee and to the Elder Raced!

Hail, ye Muses, right kindly, every one!

But for me, too, in answer to my prayer direct all my lay,

even, as is meet, to tell the stars.

• Thursday, July 26, 2018
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos Elaion hymns

Aratos' Hymn to Zeus

What I love most about Hellenismos is the treasure trove of ancient texts at our disposal. This wisdom, information, and simple insights into daily life or ritual worship help us form our practice, and shape our world views. As I try to devote as much time to research for this blog and my personal practice as I can responsibly spare, I come across many of these gems in scholarly notes, or straight there by way of Google. Today's beautiful text, however, comes courtesy of my good friend and fellow core member of Elaion, Robert Clark. In many of our PAT rituals that honour Zeus, he includes this text to recite. It was written by Aratos, and comes from his excellent Phaenomena.

Aratos of Soli (Ἄρᾱτος ὁ Σολεύς) was a Hellenic poet who flourished in Macedonia in the early third century BC. His major extant work is his hexameter poem Phaenomena (Φαινόμενα, 'Appearances'), the first half of which is a verse setting of a lost work of the same name by Eudoxus of Cnidus. It describes the constellations and other celestial phenomena. The second half is called the Diosemeia (Διοσημεῖα, 'Forecasts'), and is chiefly about weather lore. Although Aratos was somewhat ignorant of Hellenic astronomy, his poem was very popular in the Hellenic and Roman world, as is proved by the large number of commentaries and Latin translations, some of which survive.

Aratos kicks off his Phaenomena off with something of a hymn to Zeus, a bit of text to praise the King of the Gods which has become a favourite of Robert and I. I have not shared it on this blog yet, so I would like to do so today. Enjoy!

Aratos - Hymn to Zeus

From the Phaenomena, translated by G. R. Mair

From Zeus let us begin;

him do we mortals never leave unnamed;

full of Zeus are all the streets and all the market-places of men;

full is the sea and the havens thereof;

always we all have need of Zeus.

 

For we are also his offspring;

and he in his kindness unto men giveth favorable signs

and wakeneth the people to work, reminding them of livelihood.

He tells what time the soil is best for the labor of the ox and for the mattock,

and what time the seasons are favorable both for the planting of trees

and for casting all manner of seeds.

 

For himself it was who set the signs in heaven,

and marked out the constellations,

and for the year devised what stars chiefly should give to men right signs of the seasons,

to the end that all things might grow unfailingly.

 

Wherefore Him do men ever worship first and last.

Hail, O Father, mighty marvel, mighty blessing unto men.

Hail to thee and to the Elder Raced!

Hail, ye Muses, right kindly, every one!

But for me, too, in answer to my prayer direct all my lay,

even, as is meet, to tell the stars.

• Friday, September 11, 2015
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos Elaion hymns

Constellation Piscis Austrinus: the great fish

It's time for another constellation: Piscis Austrinus: the great (or 'Southern') fish. It's also known as Piscis Australis, and prior to the 20th century, it was known as Piscis Notius. It was one of the 48 constellations listed by the 2nd century astronomer Ptolemy, and it remains one of the 88 modern constellations. The stars of the modern constellation Grus once formed the 'tail' of Piscis Austrinus.

In Hellenic mythology, this constellation is known as the Great Fish and it is portrayed as swallowing the water being poured out by Aquarius, the water carrier. The two fish of the constellation Pisces are said to be the offspring of the Great Fish. From Hyginus' 'Astronomica' comes the follow reason for his placement in the sky:

This is the Fish that is called Southern. He seems to take water in his mouth from the sign of Aquarius. Once, when Isis was in labor, he is thought to have saved her, and as a reward for this kindness she placed the fish and its young, about whom we have spoken before, among the stars. As a result the Syrians generally do not eat fish, and worship their gilded likenesses as household gods. Ctesias, too, writes about this. [II.41]

Aratos, too, confirms the position of the Great Fish in his 'Phaenomena'. Amongst other mentions, he writes:

"Below Aegoceros before the blasts of the South Wind swims a Fish, facing Cetus, alone and part from the former Fishes; and him men call the Southern Fish. Other stars, sparsely set beneath Hydrochoüs [Aquarius], hang on high between Cetus in the heavens and the Fish, dim and nameless, and near them on the right hand of bright Hydrochoüs, like some sprinked drops of water lightly shed on this side and on that, other stars wheel bright-eyed though weak." [385 - 389]

Needless to say, this is a minor constellation. It is visible at latitudes between +55° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of October.

• Monday, June 16, 2014
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos Constellation series Hyginus

Constellation Lupus: the wolf

Before we get started on this one, I need to tell you that the interpretation of 'wolf' is a Roman one; The romans translated Ptolemy's work from Greek to Latin, and translated the constellation named 'Therion' as 'wolf', instead of the more general 'beast' or 'animal'. As such, the constellation did not actually represent a wolf until Roman times, but we are stuck with the Roman names, so I went with 'wolf' for the post's title.

The stars of the constellation Lupus were once considered to be part of the constellation Centaurus, where they represented an animal being impaled on a pole by the centaur, who was holding it toward the constellation Ara, the altar, as though he were about to sacrifice it. The Hellenic astronomer Hipparch separated the constellation from Centaurus and named it Therion in the second century BC.

Because the separation came so late, many references to Lupus are in connection to Centaurus and Ara. Aratos, for example, in his 'Phaenomena':

"The constellation of Centaur [Centaurus] thou wilt find beneath two others. For part in human form lies beneath Scorpio, but the rest, a horse’s trunk and tail, are beneath the Claws. He ever seems to stretch his right hand towards the round Altar, but though his hand is drawn and firmly grasped another sign – the Beast [Fera], for so men of old have named it." [436]

Hyginus, in his 'Astronomica' echoes this, linking Lupus to the constellation Centaurus. In his version, the Centaur holding out a sacrifice is either Kheiron or Pholus; Kheiron because he dropped a poisoned arrow on his foot and perished, and Pholus for his Gods-given powers of divination:

"When Hercules was once visiting Chiron, and while sitting with him was examining his arrows, one of them is said to have fallen on the foot of Chiron, and thus brought about his death. Others say that when the Centaur wondered at his being able to kill such huge creatures as Centauri with such slight arrows, he himself tried to draw the bow, and the arrow, slipping from his hand, fell on his foot. For this reason Jupiter [Zeus], pitying him, put him among the constellations with a victim which he seems to hold above the altar for sacrifice. Others have said that he is Pholus the Centaurus, who was more skilled in augury that the rest. Consequently, by the will of Jove [Zeus], he was represented coming to the altar with a victim." [II.38]
 

The constellation Lupus is a minor constellation, and in ancient writings, you won't be able to connect it to the wolf at all, especially because wolves--if they ever ended up being sacrificed on an altar at all--would most likely only be sacrificed in cult worship. It was not a regular sacrificial animal, but may have been a part of the worship of Gods with the 'Lykaion' epithet--like Zeus and Apollon.

The constellation is visible at latitudes between +35° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of June.

• Sunday, September 29, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos astronomy Constellation series epithets Hyginus Kheiron Pholus Ptolemy Roman

Constellation Libra: the scales or claws

Today I am doing another constellation post, and this time it is about a bit of an oddity: a constellation that the ancient Hellenes saw only as a part of another constellation. Often the names we use for the constellations are Roman, but the ancient Hellenes at least identified the constellation in the same way. Not so with Libra: to the ancient Romans, Libra represented scales, to the ancient Hellenes, the claws of the constellation Scorpio. As such, it was known by two names: Zyygos (the Scales) or Khêlai (the Claws).

The constellation Scorpio--which we will get to at a later date--was placed into the sky because of mythology that connexts him to Orion, the great hunter. In ancient times, the constellation Libra was almost solely identified with the scorpion, but eventually, another connection came to pass--to the constellation Virgo. The above image represents both connections. Hyginus, in his Astronomica, makes the connection between the scorpion and the scales best:

"This sign is divided into two parts on account of the great spread of the claws. One part of it our writers have called the Balance." [II. 26]

Hyginus (64 BC – AD 17), however, was a Latin author. Earlier work--for example by 3rd century BC poet Aratos, reveals nothing about scales. In his Phaenomena, he discusses the placement of Libra repeatedly:

"Toward the Crown leans the Serpent’s jaw, but beneath his coiling form seek thou for the mighty Claws [Libra]; they are scant of light and nowise briljant. [...] There too are the most swift courses of the Ram [Aries], who, pursued through the longest circuit, runs not a whit slower than the Bear Cynosura – himself weak and starless as on a moonlit night, but yet by the belt of Andromeda thou canst trace him out. For a little below her is he set. Midway he treads the mighty heavens, where wheel the tips of the Scorpion’s Claws and the Belt of Orion. [...] The constellation of Centaur [Centaurus] thou wilt find beneath two others. For part in human form lies beneath Scorpio, but the rest, a horse’s trunk and tail, are beneath the Claws. [...] In it [the equater] are the Belt of the well-starred Orion and the coil of the gleaming Hydra: in it, too, the dim-lit Crater and the Crow and the scanty-starred Claws and the knees of Ophiuchus are borne. [...] In it is the Crag; after the Crab the Lion and beneath him the Maiden; after the Maiden the Claws and the Scorpion himself and the Archer and Aegoceros, and after Aegoceros Hydrochoüs. [...] Nor can the rising Claws [Libra], though faintly shining, pass unremarked, when at a bound the mighty sign of Boötes rises, jeweled with Arcturus. Aloft is risen all of Argo, but the Hydra, shed as she is afar over the heavens, will lack her tail. The Claws bring only the right leg as far as the thigh of that Phantom that is ever On his Knees, ever crouching by the Lyre – that Phantom, unknown among the figures of the heavens, whom we often see both rise and set on the selfsame night. Of him only the leg is visible at the rising of both the Claws: he himself head-downward on the other side awaits the rising Scorpion and the Drawer of the Bow. For they bring him: Scorpion brings his waist and all aforesaid; the Bow his left hand and head. Even so in three portions is he all brought up piecemeal above the horizon. Half the Crown and the tip of the Centaur’s tail are upraised with the rising Claws." [88, 225, 436, 511, 544, 607]

About the connection to the constellation Virgo, many later writers have something to say, although very few of those words are in the public domain. Two Goddesses were identified with the scales by (mostly) the Romans: Astraia (Αστραια), daughter of Zeus and Themis, and Tykhe (Τυχη), daughter of Zeus. There is no Hellenic source to tie either of them to the constellation.

Manilius, a Roman poet, astrologer, and author from the 1st century AD, in his 'Astronomica' spoke of the influence of Libra for those born under it, writing:

"Balancing night with the length of day, the Scales will bestow the employment of weights and measures and a son to emulate the talents of Palamedes, who first assigned numbers, and to these numbers names, fixed magnitudes and individual symbols. He will be acquainted with the tables of law, abstruse legal points, and words denoted by compendious signs; he will know what is permissible and the penalties incurred by doing what is forbidden; in his own house he is a people's magistrate holding lifelong office… Indeed, whatever stands in dispute and needs a ruling the pointer of the balance will determine." [Loeb p.239]

Libra, especially for the Hellenes, was a minor constellation--part of another constellation, and barely connected to mythology. In modern times, however, the failt constellation has gained its share of fame. The constellation Libra is visible at latitudes between +65° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of June.

• Thursday, September 12, 2013
  Aratos Astraia astronomy Constellation series Hyginus Manilius Mythology 101 Orion Ptolemy Tykhe

Constellation Hydra: the sea-serpent

It's time for part three of the series-within-a-series featuring the myth of Apollon and the raven. The previous parts were the constellation Corvus: the Raven, and the Constellation Crater: the Cup. This third installment is about the longest constellation we still recognize as a constellation today: Hydra, or the sea-serpent.

To recap the story of Apollon and the raven: the raven (or crow) was in service to Apollon, and was sent out on an errant for the Theos. He was asked to bring water to Him, but instead, he paused in his quest. Most commonly it is assumed is that he stopped for a meal of figs. When the raven returned without water, Apollon questioned him. Instead of giving a straight answer, the raven lied, and said he had been kept from the water by a snake. In some accounts, he actually had a snake in his talons as he said this. Apollon, however, saw that the raven was lying, and flung the raven, the krater with which the raven was supposed to collect water, as well as the snake into the sky, where they remain to this day.

Roman author Gaius Julius Hyginus (64 BC - 17 AD) talks about the serpent's continued function in his Astronomica:

"This is the sign on which the Crow sits and over which the Bowl is placed. [...] As long as the figs are ripening, the crow cannot drink, because on those days he has a sore throat. So when the god wished to illustrate the thirst of the crow, he put the bowl among the constellations, and placed the water-snake underneath to delay the thirsty crow. For the crow seems to peck at the end of its tail to be allowed to go over to the bowl." [2.40]

Another hydra the constellation is associated with is the Hydra vanquished by Hēraklēs as his second labour. After his victory over the Nemean lion, Hēraklēs is send off to handle another sticky problem: the Lernaean Hydra, who was raised from the earth by Hera just to end the life of Hēraklēs. The Lernaean Hydra (Λερναία Ὕδρα) was the offspring of Typhon, and layered in the swampy lake of Lerna. He realized he would need help for this labour, and asked it of his nephew Iolaus (Ἰόλαος). Together they devised a plan: Hēraklēs would cut off the heads, and Iolaus would sear the stumps shut, in this way, the heads could not regenerate. When Hēraklēs returns to Eurystheus after completing the labour, the king decrees that, because Hēraklēs could not have completed the labour without the help of Iolaus, the labour will not count against his total, and he will have to do an extra one to fulfill his debt.

On the hydra, Pausanias writes in his 'History of Greece'. He speaks of the birth place of the hydra, and of his alleged number of heads:

"At the source of the Amymone grows a plane tree, beneath which, they say, the hydra (water-snake) grew. I am ready to believe that this beast was superior in size to other water-snakes, and that its poison had something in it so deadly that Heracles treated the points of his arrows with its gall. It had, however, in my opinion, one head, and not several. It was Peisander76 of Camirus who, in order that the beast might appear more frightful and his poetry might be more remarkable, represented the hydra with its many heads." [2.37.4]

Constellations are often associated with the constellations they are surrounded with, and with no constellation this is clearer than with Hydra. Aratos, a Hellenic poet who flourished in Macedonia in the early third century BC, speaks best of Hydra in regards to his surrounding constellations in his 'Phaenomena':

"Another constellation trails beyond, which men call the Hydra. Like a living creature it winds afar its coiling form. Its head comes beneath the middle of the Crab, its coil beneath the body of the Lion, and its tail hangs above the Centaur himself. Midway on its coiling form is set the Crater, and at the tip the figure of a Raven that seems to peck at the coil." [443]

The constellation Hydra is visible at latitudes between +54° and −83°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of April.

• Tuesday, July 30, 2013
  Apollon Aratos astronomy Constellation series Hēraklēs Hyginus Mythology 101 Pausanias Ptolemy

Ancient weather predictions based upon the sun

Yesterday, I gave you ancient weather predictions based upon the moon I gave fair warning then that today, I would give you Aratos' weather predictions based upon the sun--which are equally fascinating in my opinion. Tomorrow, you can sink your teeth in something a little beefier, but for today, enjoy Aratos' advice from the second half of his excellent Phaenomena.

"To the Sun’s march at East and West give heed. His hints give even more pertinent warning both at setting, and when he comes from below the verge. May not his orb, whenever thou desires a fair day, be variegated when first his arrows strike the earth, and may he wear no mark at all but shine stainless altogether. If again thus all pure he be in the hour when the oxen are loosed, and set cloudless in the evening with gentle beam, he will still be at the coming dawn attended with fair weather. But not so, when he rises with seemingly hollow disk, nor when his beams part to strike or North or South, while his center is bright. But then in truth he journeys either through rain or through wind.

 

Scan closely, if his beams allow thee, the Sun himself, for scanning him is best, to see if either some blush run over him, as often he shows a blush or here or there, when he fares through trailing clouds, or if haply he is darkened. Let the dark stain be sign to thee of coming rain, and every blush be sign of wind. But if he is draped both black and red at once, he will bring rain and will strain beneath the wind. But if the rays of the rising or setting Sun converge and crowd on one spot, or if he go from night to dawn, or from dawn to night, closely beset with clouds, those days will run in company with rushing rain. Nor be thou heedless of rain, what time before him rises a thin mist, after which the Sun himself ascends with scanty beams. But when a broad belt of mist seems to melt and widen before the rising Sun and anon narrows to less, fair will be his course, and fair too, if in the season of winter his hue wax wan at eventide. But for tomorrow’s rain face the setting Sun and scan the clouds. If a darkening cloud the beams that wheel between the Sun and it part to either side of the cloud, thou shalt still need shelter for the dawn. But if without a cloud he dip in the western ocean, and as he is sinking, or still when he is gone, the clouds stand near him blushing red, neither on the morrow nor in the night needst thou be over-fearful of rain. But fear the coming rain when on a sudden the Sun’s rays seem to thin and pale – just as they often fade when the Moon overshadows them, what time she stands straight between the earth and Sun; nor are the fields unwetted on that day, when before the dawn, as the Sun delays to shine, reddish clouds appear here or there. Be not heedless either of wind or rain to come, when, while the Sun is still below the verge, his precursor beams shine shadowy in the dawn. The more those beams are borne in shadow, the surer the sign they give of rain, but if but faint the dusk that veils his beams, like a soft mist of vapor, that veil of dusk portends wind. Nor are dark halos near the Sun signs of fair weather: when nearer the Sun and dark without relief, they portend greater storms: if there are two rings, they will herald tempests fiercer still.

 

Marks as the Sun is rising or setting, whether the clouds, called parhelia, blush (on South or North or both), nor make the observation in careless mood. For when on both sides at once those clouds gird the Sun, low down upon the horizon, there is no lingering of the storm that comes from Zeus. But if only one shine purple to the North, form the North will it bring the blast; if in the South, from the South; or down pour the pattering raindrops.

 

With even greater care mark those signals when in the West, for from the West the warnings are given ever with equal and unfailing certainty." [819 - 890]

• Thursday, May 23, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos Hellenismos 101

Ancient weather predictions based upon the moon

What I love most about Hellenism is the treasure trove of ancient texts at our disposal. This wisdom, information, and these simple observations help us form our practice, and shape our world views. As I try to devote as much time to research for this blog and my personal practice as I can responsibly spare, I come across many of these gems in scholarly notes, or straight there by way of Google. I fully admit to not knowing half of these texts even existed before I stumble upon them. At any rate, today, I want to share with you some beautiful wisdom about predicting the weather, based upon the moon.  The advice comes from Aratos, by way of his excellent Phaenomena.

Aratos (Ἄρατος) lived from about 310 BC to 240 BC, and he was a Hellenic didactic poet. His Phaenomena (Φαινόμενα, appearances) came upon my radar because of his description of the constellations, but as far as I can tell, not everything he writes in the first half of the Phaenomena is entirely correct--at least not according to the current night's sky. The latter part of the Pheanomena is of interest today. It's called 'Diosemeia' (Διοσημεῖα, forecasts), and is about weather lore. It seems that the Diosemeia is largely copied and rephrased from other works, including that of Aristotle and Hesiod, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful, or entertaining.

Also, try not to skip ahead too much, because you are getting his weather predictions based upon the sun tomorrow *wink*.

"Markest thou not? Whenever the Moon with slender horns shines forth in the West, she tells of a new month beginning: when first her rays are shed abroad just enough to cast a shadow, she is going to the fourth day: with orb half complete she proclaims eight days: with full face the mid-day of the month; and ever with varying phase she tells the date of the dawn that comes round.

 

[...]

 

For oft, too, beneath a calm night the sailor shortens sail for fear of the morning sea. Sometimes the storm comes on the third day, sometimes on the fifth, but sometimes the evil comes all unforeseen. For not yet do we mortals know all from Zeus, but much still remains hidden, whereof, what he will, even hereafter will he reveal; for openly he aids the race of men, manifesting himself on every side and showing signs on every hand. Some messages the Moon will convey with orb half-full as she waxes or wanes, others when full: others the Sun by warnings at dawn and again at the edge of night, and other hints from other source can be drawn for day and night.

 

Scan first the horns on either side the Moon. For with varying hue from time to time the evening paints her and of different shape are her horns at different times as the Moon is waxing – one form on the third day and other on the fourth. From them thou canst learn touching the month that is begun. If she is slender and clear about the third day, she heralds calm: if slender and very ruddy, wind; but if thick and with blunted horns she show but a feeble light on the third and fourth night, her beams are blunted by the South wind or imminent rain. If on the third night neither horn nod forward or lean backward, if vertical they curve their tips on either side, winds from the West will follow that night. But if still with vertical crescent she bring the fourth day too, she gives warning of gathering storm. If her upper horn nod forward, expect thou the North wind, but if it lean backward, the South. But when on the third day a complete halo, blushing red, encircles her, she foretells storm and, the fierier her blush, the fiercer the tempest.

 

Scan her when full and when half-formed on either side of full, as she waxes from or wanes again to crescent form, and from her hue forecast each month. When quite bright her hue, forecast fair weather; when ruddy, expect the rushing wind; when dark stained with spots, look out for rain. But not for every day is appointed a separate sign, but the signs of the third and fourth day betoken the weather up to the half Moon; those of the half Moon up to full Moon; and in turn the signs of the full Moon up to the waning half Moon; the signs of the half Moon are followed by those of the fourth day from the end of the waning month, and they in their turn by those of the third day of the new month. But if halos encircle all the Moon, set triple or double about her or only single – with the single ring, expect wind or calm; when the ring is broken, wind; when faint and fading, calm; two rings girding the Moon forebode storm; a triple halo would bring a greater storm, and greater still, if black, and more furious still, if the rings are broken. Such warnings for the month thou canst learn from the Moon." [733 - 818]

• Wednesday, May 22, 2013
  ancient Hellenic culture Aratos astronomy Hellenismos 101 moon

Constellations Corona Australis & Corona Borealis: the two crowns

Because it's been a while since the last constellation, and yesterday's blog post hardly counted, I'm going to give you not one but two constellations today (also because it's much easier to describe both in one post, seeing as the mythology surrounding these two has mixed throughout the years, so I'm really just making it easier on myself).

The Corona Australis, the southern crown, is located in the southern hemisphere, next to the constellation Sagittarius. As such, it is often linked to that constellation and regarded as the wreath that fell off of the head of one of the kéntauros that particular constellation is linked to. In the same regard, it is also linked to the kéntauros 'Centaurus'.

Corona Australis is most often regarded as a wreath, but in some descriptions and depictions, the Corona Australis is a crown. There is, however, one myth in which the Corona Australis does not depict a wreath or crown: in this myth, the constellation represents Ixion, king of the Lapits, who fell in love with Hera after being invited up to Olympos by Zeus. Zeus decided to test his integrity after He discovered His guest' lust for Hera, but Ixion failed miserably. Ixion was expelled from Olympus and blasted with a thunderbolt for failing his test. Zeus then ordered Hermes to bind Ixion to a winged fiery wheel that was always spinning. Therefore, Ixion is bound to a burning solar wheel for all eternity, at first spinning across the heavens, then into Tartaros. The Corona Australis is this very wheel, with Ixion tied to it.

The most famous of myths associated with the Corona Australis is the story of the birth of Dionysos, and the death of His mother Semele. In this version of the myth, Dionysos is born from Semele and Zeus, and while Semele is pregnant with Him, Hera plants seeds of doubt in her mind about the father of the child truly being Zeus. Semele asks Zeus to reveal Himself to her in His true form, and when He is left with no other option, He does so, killing her in the process. Zeus takes pity on His child, and takes Him into either His thigh or testicle, where He is eventually born from. When Dionysos grows up, He raises Semele to Olympos and grants her eternal life. He also places a wreath into the sky to honor her. The wreath would be made of myrtle leaves, for Dionysos left a gift of myrtle in the Underworld in return for His mother, and the followers of Dionysos wore crowns of myrtle.

Interestingly enough, Roman author Hyginus ascribes this myth to the Corona Borealis, and adds that Dionysos first received this wreath--now a golden crown--from Aphrodite. He gave it to His beloved Ariadne, daughter of Minos. According to Hyginus, it was the light that reflected off of this crown, that led Theseus from the labyrinth after slaying the minotaur. Hyginus then goes on to retell the story above, and says that Dionysos did not want to take the crown into the Underworld in fear of it being contaminated with miasma. When He returned from the Underworld, he threw the golden crown into the sky as a memorial.

Hyginus also gives another account for the the northern crown, the Corona Borealis:

"It is said that when Theseus came to Crete to Minos with seven maidens and six youths, Minos, inflamed by the beauty of one of the maidens, Eriboea by name, wished to lie with her. Theseus, as was fitting for a son of Neptune[Poseidon], and one able to strive against a tyrant for a girl’s safety, refused to allow this. So when the dispute became one not about the girl but about the parentage of Theseus, whether he was the son of Neptune or not, Minos is said to have drawn a gold ring from his finger and cast it into the sea. 

He bade Theseus bring it back, if he wanted him to believe he was a son of Neptune; as for himself, he could easily show he was a son of Jove [Zeus]. So, invoking his father, he asked for some sign to prove he was his son, and straightway thunder and lightning gave token of assent. For a similar reason, Theseus, without any invoking of his father or obligation of an oath, cast himself into the sea. And at once a great swarm of dolphins, tumbling forward over the sea, led him through gently swelling waves to the Nereids. 

From them he brought back the ring of Minos and a crown, bright with many gems, from Thetis, which she had received at her wedding as a gift from Venus [Aphrodite]. Others say that the crown came from the wife of Neptune, and Theseus is said to have given it to Ariadne as a gift, when on account of his valor and courage she was given to him in marriage. After Ariadne’s death, Liber [Dionysos] placed it among the constellations."

As you can see, there are many myths surrounding the two crowns. The Hellenic poet Aratos named them 'Stephanoi' (Στεφάνοι) around 300 BC, but did not differnetiate between the two, although they are not placed close together. As such, the Stephanoi are visible and best viewed at different times throughout the year. The Corona Australis is visible at latitudes between +40° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of August. The Corona Borealis, located near the constellations of Hēraklēs and Boötes, is visible at latitudes between +90° and −50°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of July.

• Monday, March 11, 2013
  Amphitrite Aphrodite Aratos Ariadne astronomy Centaurs Constellation series Dionysos Hyginus Minos Mythology 101 Poseidon Ptolemy Semele