Bacchic Vindication: A Character Analysis of Dionysus in Wole Soyinka’s The Bacchae of Euripides: A Communion Rite

Attic Red Figure Painting by the Kleophrades Painter who lived from 510-470 BCE.

This article is two of three in a series on Bacchus/Dionysus, you can read the first one here, and the next one here.

Although Dionysus initially draws out sympathy from the reader, his vindictive nature over rules his actions. All the while his inclination for revenge, however macabre it may be, gestates. When you first meet the god Dionysus, he explains to the audience how the people of Thebes have done injustice against him; he then begins to lay out his revenge. Each line in his opening speech contains a wealth of subliminal information into his malicious tendency to those who were not initiated in his Bacchic mysteries. In his opening dialogue with the audience he states:

“Thebes taints me with bastardy; I am turned into an alien, some foreign outgrowth of her habitual tyranny,” [i]

Dionysus hints at his ill fated birth and the stigma behind it. The city of Thebes does not accept his deified birthright from Zeus, and, portrayed later in his introductory lines, is the Thebans attitude towards his mother Semele; “…bringing vengeance on all who deny my holy origin and call my mother—slut.”[ii] (This line also outlines to whom he will seek his revenge.) His mother was struck by a thunderbolt for looking upon the divine form of Zeus.[iii] But her death was taken by those in the city of Thebes as a sign of her infidelity to her husband as well as outlandishly claiming that Zeus fathered her son.  Zeus, being the god of oaths, punishes those who are unfaithful to their spouses; so it was right to assume the cause of Semele’s punishment. His status as an alien stems from his origins. This alienation angers Dionysus and further marks his status as simply a mortal born out of wedlock rather then being the son of Zeus. The rumor of his birth was misconstrued as him being taken by Zeus, who then sewed Dionysus into his thigh.[iv] This may be eluded to the description of “foreign outgrowth”. Later, the play pokes fun at this aspect with humorous, yet insightful vulgarity. :

TIRESIAS(to KADMOS):

“…Is the man

Not fully present in the seed? And the offspring

Of the son of Ichion, are they not even now ensconced

Within that dangling pouch between your thighs?

Offsprings whose genesis you now endanger

By sharp tongue wagging impiously?

It’s not for me to say if Zeus had his scrotum

Sewn to one side of his thighs or

In—between like – presumably – yours.”[v]

With this scene in mind, the “outgrowth” that Dionysus was from  Zeus’ scrotum. Such a concept is visited in the text once before, “a seed of Zeus was sown in Semele my mother”[vi],  it is obvious that the seed of Zeus dwells between his thighs. The “outgrowth” is simply talking about Dionysus as Zeus’ son, growing out of him becoming a “foreign” body shows his separation from Zeus.

Although the last part of the first sentence is contained as such, I feel that it relates to the prevenient sentence which reads:

“…her habitual tyranny. My followers daily pay forfeit for their faith.”[vii]

“her” in that portion is referring to the city of Thebes, and the tyranny of Thebes institutes edicts often against the followers of Dionysus; and because of that, they pay dearly. But in all cases they seem to have been set free, “In was no Human hands that snapped those chains, no/ Human cunning picked the locks on those/ Iron gates.”[viii];  they’re set free by none other then Dionysus himself.

The following sentence seems to be the most vindictively geared statement for his case of revenge on the city of Thebes:

“Thebes blasphemes against me, makes a scapegoat of a god.”[ix]

Being a god from the seed of Zeus, Dionysus feels he is due what is owed to him. Namely, the pouring out of libations, the wearing fawn skins, waving the thyrsus, and dancing in homage to him.  The fact of the matter is that the city of Thebes disregards his birth as divine from Zeus, so therefore, sees no reason to worship him. Their blaspheme is simply their refusal to worship and acknowledge him. For this reason, he becomes vengeful and takes on this vindictiveness.

In the second half of that sentence, he attributes the people of Thebes into making a scapegoat of him, which is only worsened as an insult because he is a deity. The occurrences of the Theban women heading for the hills to “frisk” each other and indulging in the many inebriated orgies in honor of Dionysus causes King Pentheus to blame Dionysus for their promiscuous activities, rather than the women for their own immorality.[x] Granted, they’re in a trance because of the influence of Dionysus, but the blame still rests on them for they had not willingly accepted Dionysus as a god.

This line is where he starts to portray that he is plotting against the inhabitants of Thebes, and they will not be able to refute his rightful place in the Pantheon. Dionysus says:

“It is time to state my patrimony—even here in Thebes.” [xi]

and within this statement, he portrays his worldliness and authoritative abilities that he will flex within Thebes. His “patrimony” refers directly back to how he is rightly apt to receive the mantle of godhood. He had inherited powers that he now wields vindictively against mortals who dare question his legitimate power. The portion that says “—even here in Thebes” shows that he has already been accepted as a god in other parts of the world, and when he is through, he will be god in the eyes of those dwelling in Thebes, or,  if need be, while they dwell in Hades.

The revenge of Dionysus is most keenly felt on the house of Pentheus, ruler of Thebes. The twisted and disturbing manner that he achieves his regicidal revenge  shows his vindictive, rather than a sympathetic persona. It is hard to be sympathetic to someone who is ruthless and hell-bent at decimating those who would dare scoff at his godly status. To be worthy of sympathy, he would have to be less malevolent and far more pitiful of a character. As it is, he does not require pity, but projects fear into the those who view him.

 

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[i] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 1.

[ii]Ibid., 2.

3 “Semele, daughter of Cadmus king of Thebes, being beloved by Zeus, was beguiled by the jealous Hera into asking him to visit her, as he visited Hera herself, in the full glory of his god-head. He accordingly appeared before her in all his majesty as the god of thunder ; Semele, over- powered by his presence, was struck dead by his thunderbolts.” (see John Edwin Sandys The Bacchae of Euripides: With Critical and Explanatory Notes and with Numerous Illustrations From Works of Ancient Art. 3rd ed. (London: C. J. Clay And Sons, 1892), ix.

[iv] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 30.

[v] Ibid.,31.

[vi] Ibid.,2.

[vii] Ibid.,1.

[viii] Ibid.,40.

[ix] Ibid.,1.

[x] Ibid., 23.

[xi] Ibid., 1.

A Critical Review of The Bacchae of Euripides by Wole Soyinka

This article is one of three in a series on Bacchus/Dionysus, you can read the next one here.

In Wole Soyinka’s retelling of The Bacchae,[i] a classical Greek play, the tone has been  slightly altered to include a comedic aspect; which neither excludes the initial somber tendency nor does the plot deviate far from Euripides 5^th c. script.  There are several instances in which comedy is inserted in the play that momentarily changes its tone. The majority of these instances is in the dialogue between the characters Kadmos and Tiresias. The comedic points, although vulgar, play an important role in creating a secondary tone in Soyinka’s version of The Bacchae. The first and second are both conversations between the Kadmos and Tiresias. The first is a misspoken line by Kadmos to the other, where as the second is a conversation between them about the origins of Dionysus. The third is an inebriated Pentheus speaking to Dionysus in disguise who incites him to see the maenads. In the retelling of the play, Soyinka has had to abandon the ending of the original and create a new ending because of the nature of the source in which substantial parts are lost.

In both texts, Tiresias is blind, but what is different is how they approach joining the worship of Dionysus. Kadmos does so in secret in Soyinka’s text, by hiding his fawn skin robes underneath his cloak, and devising a thyrsus that is collapsible,

KADMOS: …“See how it works? First collapsible thyrsus in all of Attica, in the whole  world maybe. Made it myself. Couldn’t trust the place joiner not to talk. Shows you how nervous I was, going all that length to disguise the obvious.”[ii]

The two intended to secretly travel to Mt. Kithairon, but before that, Tiresias asks if Kadmos is dressed to go and do Dionysus honor. At this point, Kadmos takes off his cloak to reveal his fawn skin in which the following lines ensue,

KADMOS: Aren’t I? (Takes TIRESIAS’ hand.) Here, feel that.  You won’t find finer foreskin except on Dionysus himself.”

TIRESIAS: He isn’t circumcised?

KADMOS: Who? Who isn’t circumcised?

TIRESIAS: Dionysus. What you said about his foreskin.

KADMOS: Did I? Slip of the tongue.

TIRESIAS: (considers it quite seriously). I wonder how many of that you’d need to make a Bacchic smock.

KADMOS: If that was what Dionysus demanded . . . a couple of thousand slaves forcibly circumcised . . . Pentheus could arrange it.[iii]

These lines change the over all tone completely from the beginning of the play which had been serious and vindictive. The reason for the secrecy were doubts that Kadmos had at joining Dionysus  as he worried  “it did not befit [my] age or rank.”[iv] The accidental “slip of the tongue” that Kadmos had turns from comedic back to seriousness as Tiresias actually considers the idea being discussed.

In the original, this scene is kept serious, and both characters are aware of each other’s devotion to Dionysus. Tiresias sought after Cadmus[v]  in a very upfront manner by saying,

TIRESIAS: …“Go someone, tell him that Tiresias is seeking him. He knows himself why I have come. He knows the arrangement I have made…to dress the thyrsus and put on skins of fawns and wreathe our heads with shoots of ivy.”[vi]

Among the two plays, this is one of the differences in plot. For the most part, Soyinka kept whole sections of dialogue from the original version and tended to only make minor changes such as spelling of character names and who said certain lines.

The next appearance of comedic insertion in the text comes again in a conversation between Kadmos and Tiresias. In the conversation, they talk about  the rumor of Dionysus’ birth  which was misconstrued as him being taken by Zeus, who then sewed Dionysus into his thigh.[vii] Tiresias pokes fun at this aspect with humorous, yet insightful vulgarity.

TIRESIAS(to KADMOS):

“…Is the man

Not fully present in the seed? And the offspring

Of the son of Ichion, are they not even now ensconced

Within that dangling pouch between your thighs?

Offsprings whose genesis you now endanger

By sharp tongue wagging impiously?

It’s not for me to say if Zeus had his scrotum

Sewn to one side of his thighs or

In—between like—presumably—yours.”[viii]

These lines appear in a more serious form with in the original text but are not spoken by Tiresias, but rather Pentheus to the two old men. He tells them the misconception of this story is due in part to an error of communication by mortals who came up with the concept that he was sown into the thigh.[ix] Pentheus does not go in any such detail as Tiresias does, whose comments were rather racy.

The final comedic addition that changes the tone can be found in the interaction between Dionysus and Pentheus as he dressed him in the costume of a maenad. As Dionysus put Pentheus into a trance like state, he became in a state akin to being on acid[x]; hallucinating Dionysus as a talking animal.

PENTHEUS: (with just a touch of tipsiness)

Yes, but listen. I seem to see two suns

Blazing in the heavens. And now two Thebes

Two cities, each with seven gates. And you—

Are you a bull? There are horns newly

Sprouted from your head. Have you always been

A bull? Were you. . .(He searches foggily in his brain.)

. . . yes, that bull, in there?

Was it you?

DIONYSUS: Now you see me as you ought to see. Dionysus

Has been good to you with his gift of wine.[xi]

This off balanced and humorous Pentheus is quite different from the serious overbearing one earlier in the play, both in Soyinka’s and Euripides’ version.  In the original, Pentheus only thinks Dionysus may be a bull, whereas in Soyinka’s version Dionysus actually becomes a bull with out any doubt in the mind of Pentheus as understood in the dialogue.

The ending of the two plays is the biggest difference,  yet is attributed to the fact that parts of the ending of Euripides’ Bacchae are lost. In Soyinka’s Bacchae, Agave successfully nails her son’s head to the archway in the palace, while in the original text, she merely carries it around until it becomes an object of recognition that causes a change of emotion in her. Soyinka follows through with Agave thinking the head as a trophy by tacking it to the wall, whereas the original Agave recognizes it as her son and does not proceed that far. The spot where he abandons the original ending is at the point of a blood like substance streaming forth from the mouth of Pentheus. It continues to spew outwards like a fountain and it turns out not as blood, but as Dionysian wine that characters, in a trance, drink.

Soyinka’s inventive writing and incorporation of a comedic tone in the retelling of this play, has given it new vigor while retaining its roots befitting a classic tragedy. With each of the artfully inserted comic lines, the play gained a new perspective. The characters of Tiresias and Kadmos became comic relief in Soyinka’s version which gave this play a breath of fresh air into the serious and direct original piece.

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[i] Can be known as either The Bacchants or The Bacchantes.

[ii] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 25.

[iii] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 22

[iv] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 23

[v] Name given to the character of Kadmos in the original text.

[vi] Euripides and Moses Hadas. Ten Plays by Euripides. 3rd ed. (New York: Bantam Classics, 2006) 321.

[vii] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 30.

[viii] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 31.

[ix] Euripides and Moses Hadas. Ten Plays by Euripides. 3rd ed. (New York: Bantam Classics, 2006) 324.

[x] Lysergic acid diethylamide commonly abbreviated as LSD.

[xi] Wole Soyinka, The Bacchae of Euripides: A communion Rite  (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1974), 76.

A Lesson in Latin Linguistics Through Mycology

I started reading The Latin Sexual Vocabulary by J.N. Adams today, taking my time going through all the Latin sources he uses, quite fascinating. Anyway, I wanted to talk about the word uerpa which I shall remain aloof and not divulge the details of its meaning. Adams’ treatment of the words are so scholarly and it really tickles me pink (and plus, you’ll figure it out sooner or later anyway). So this tale starts out in the year 1775, a wonderful year in which the scrappy American Revolution was due to start and on the European continent, a man named Otto Friedrich Müller, a naturalist, named an ascomycete fungi related to the morels. Now, I am no mycologist, (from the Greek μύκης, mukēs, meaning “fungus”) so please bear with me on the details. For those who are curious a dictionary will show that the definition of an ascomycete is simply “a large group of fungi characterized by the presence of sexually produced spores formed within an ascus. Also called sac fungus.” Now of course you must wonder what an ascus is, (I sure did!). Linguistically speaking, it is from the Greek word ασκος, askos, meaning “bag”. The definition of ascus is “a membranous, often club-shaped structure in which typically eight ascospores are formed through sexual reproduction of ascomycetes. How fun! Now that we are acquainted with the terminology, onward to the matter at hand. So, our man, Müller named a certain ascomycete fungi Phallus conicus. So this is where things get entertaining. Although retaining its name many other individuals attempted in vain to place it into different genera. In 1815, Olaf Peter Swartz decided  that naming this fungus (pictured below) Phallus conicus was far too obvious in meaning to the average lay person so he changed it to Verpa conicus.

Verpa conica

This alteration wouldn’t really be noteworthy, except the reason why he changed it. In all likeliness (mere conjecture on my part) it was to avoid potential ridicule. The joke really is funnier in Latin, so they say, and this is no exception. So I will let you in on the joke, the term verpa according to J.N. Adams is thus:

Verpa can also be classified as a vox propria for the penis; it serves as a complement of mentula. Verpais recorded in literature only in Catullus (28.12), Martial (11.46.2), the Corpus Priapeorum (34.5) and perhaps Pomponius (see below), but its currency in vulgar speech is established by its frequency in graffiti (see CIL IV.1655, 1884, 2360, 2415, 4876, 8617).1

So, in short, the words verpa and mentula in Latin, for all intents and purposes are the most obscene words for the male genitalia as far as scholars can tell based on literary and archeological evidence. A proper Roman like Cicero has simply refused to write mentula in response to a letter and instead he wrote “id  uerbum,” that word. It is hard to approximate just how improper it was to use these words in civilized conversation, but one can imagine its equivalent today would be approximately the four letter word for pudenda muliebria. I suppose, to take it a step further, one must know exactly why this word was such a big deal. The term verpa is a very specific word for the phallus. It has an explicit meaning of an erect phallus with the foreskin pulled back and the glans exposed. This was considered exceptionally rude especially  for the upper class who was well versed in Greek culture.

1. J.N. Adams, The Latin Sexual Vocabulary (Baltimore, MD: John Hopkins University Press, 1982), 12.

Caligula’s Insane Antics

I bade you! Gather the seashells and fill your helmets and the folds of your gowns, they are the spoils from the Ocean, due to the Capitol and Palatine. -Caligula
Probably one of my favorite antics of Emperor Caligula who reigned from 37-41 CE. Growing up he was an army brat and nicknamed by the troops Caligula which is the diminutive caligulae, “little soldiers boot.” His father Germanicus waged war in Germania and was the reason for his son’s association with the military at such a young age. His disposition was quite disturbed and in the sources he is frequently described as sexually depraved, violent, and insane (if you can even believe the sources).

So let us move on to address the background of this story. One must begin with the source  called The Lives of the Twelve Caesars by C. Suetonius Tranquillus which was published in 121 CE. Although this source is questionable  since it is burgeoning with racy gossip and a satirical account of Julius Caesar, the bulk of the work concerns the end of the Republic and the period of Roman history known as the principate, ending with the Emperor Domitian. Due to the nature of the source, it must be taken with a grain of salt. However, it still is a fascinating story.
So, the full story goes something like this:

Caligula decided to invade Britain, so he marched to the shore adjacent to the isle with his legions. While on the beach, he set up the artillery facing the ocean, his troops took his orders, confused but unwilling to question the strategic application of the ballistae facing the crashing waves. Then, without warning, when the soldiers were confused on what he planned to do next, Caligula gave the signal to attack the Ocean and plunder the sea of its shells as spoils of war.

Suffice to say, he was murdered by his praetorian guard shortly thereafter, the first to have been assassinated in this manner, but surely not the last.

“Who Stitched For You This Bright Red Ὂλισβος?”

In the process of trying to find the appropriate word for penis in ancient Greek (for purely scholarly reasons, of course) as I knew what it was in Latin (mentula or uerpa) I embarked on a harrowing quest through the Greek lexicon known as the Liddell and Scott. I discovered rather, that the Greeks really did not have a word for it. However, they did have a word that was related. And the way that Liddell and Scott compiled it was rather secretive unless you knew both Latin and Greek.

ὄλισβος , ὁ,

A. penis coriaceus, Cratin. 316, Ar.Lys.109, Fr.320.13.

Well I am sure you can figure out the cognate of the Latin word penis, but you must be a pretty savvy Latinist to know what coriaceus. Let us consult Lewis and Short:

cŏrĭăcĕus , a, um, adj. corium,

I. of leather: “naves” made of leather, Amm. 24, 3, 11.

So, the Greek word ὄλισβος is a leather penis!

Aside from the archeological evidence, there is literary evidence for the use of ὄλισβος. I will leave you with a short humorous scene from Herodas Mime 6.17-19, 58-79. Herodas wrote during the 3rd century BCE in Alexandria. The following scene involves two women Metro and Coritto discussing the procurement of dildos from a cobbler.

METRO
I beg you, don’t lie, dear Coritto: Who was the Man who stitched for you this bright red dildo? (2)
CORITTO
I don’t know if [Cerdon] is from Chios or Erythrae;(3) bald, small – you’d call him a right ‘Mr. Tradesman’. You’ll think you’re seeing the handiwork of Athena herself not Cerdon’s.
I – for he arrived bringing two, Metro – at the sight of them – well my eyes bulged; men can’t make their rods as rigid as this – we are alone and can be frank – and not only that, these are as soft as sleep; and the little leather straps are as soft as wool,not like leather straps at all. (4) a kinder cobbler to a woman you’ll not find – even by putting-out.
METRO
Why then did you not take the other one as well?
CORITTO
What didn’t I do, Metro? What sort of means of persuasion did I not apply him? Kissing him, stroking his bald head, pouring out a sweet drink for him, calling him by a pet name, giving him all by my body to enjoy. (5)
METRO
If he asked even that you ought to have given him it. (6)

Herodas Mime 6.17-19, 58-79:

Taken from Sexuality in Greek and Roman Society and Literature: a Sourcebook

Marguerite Johnson, Terry Ryan © 2005 published by Routledge Press ISBN 0-415-17330-2 (Hardback) ISBN 0-415-17331-0 (Paperback)

Notes:

2. They were made of red leather like the phallus worn in comedy’ (Cunningham 164)

3. She knows his name but is uncertain of his place of origin: Chios is a large island off the coast of Lydia, opposite the peninsula on which Erythrae is the major center. Cerdon reappears in Mime 7 where his trade is confirmed as a shoemaker.

4. This dildo appears either to be a strap-on device for use in tribadic sex or to have straps designed to keep it in place within her body.

5. The reluctance to offer a sexual incentive is probably due to the class barriers; sexual preference may also be a factor.

6. While sharing her friend’s preferences, Metro clearly believes the acquisition of the second one would have been worth the sacrifice.

The Changing Notions of Serpents in Antiquity

Throughout ancient history, snakes have been venerated in some way. The ancient Greek cult of Ἀσκληπιός (Asklēpiós) flourished and its most famous temple was found in Epidaurus. Healing the sick was the main component to this religion. In light of the medical utility of this deity it is of no surprise that Romans established a temple to their latinized version, Aesculapius. According to Eric Orlin, in response to a dire plague that was ravaging the city, the Senate consulted Sibylline Books a set of oracles. They did this twice, the first time in 295 BCE, which elicited no clear course of action and the second in 293. The books dicated that “Aesculapius must be brought to Rome from Epidaurus.”2 So, the snake, who was housed in was in a temple at Epidaurus, as a representation of the god was taken and brought to his new temple in Rome in 291.

In the second century of the common era, there is the notorious cult of Glycon. The literary source for this is the satirist Lucian of Samosata. His work is titled “Alexander the False Prophet.” This biting account of the charlatan Alexander of Abonoteichus comments that he reportedly used a black snake from Macedonia, famous for their non-venomous and docility in his hoax. In short, Alexander created a cult to a snake deity, who he said was the son of Aesculapius and named him Glycon. The archeological evidence supports the prevalence and longevity of the cult long after the death of its founder. The most famous statuary was found in Tomis, Romania along with other statues and they are believed to have been buried for safekeeping.

 

 However, to the proponents of Christianity, serpents are usually associated with evil, particularly Satan. Although a Syriac saint named Simeon (390-459 CE) who became known as Simeon Stylites lived out his life atop a pillar. David Frankfurter of Boston University wrote an article entitled “Stylites and Phallobates: Pillar Religions in Late Antique Syria.”1 This article discusses at great length the rise of this unique form of Christian asceticism. Simeon’s hagiography survived in both Syriac and in Latin. In one of the Latin codices, a scene takes place where the main characters are in fact a snake couple.

25. A large growth came upon a female serpent and, because of her sufferings, she tried to leave for about one mile when the male, suffering her pains with her, took hold of the female, and they came to lord Simeon. When they arrived at his pillar, they separated from one another, for the female did not dare to be seen by the righteous man, but went into the the woman’s section. The male  came in the midst of that crowd and prostrated himself before the pillar, shaking his head up and down, and prayed to the righteous man. When the crowd saw the huge size of the snake, they ran away from it, but when he saw this holy Simeon said to the crowds, ‘Do not run away, brethren, for he has truly come here to pray. His female is very ill and has gone into the women’s section.’ He said to the snake, ‘Take up clay from the ground and carry it to your wife. Place it on [her] and breathe on it, and it will heal her.’ The snake took some clay and went to his wife. When the crowds saw it they followed him to see what he would do. They saw the female standing  upright outside the barrier, and she had a large growth. The [male]   snake took the clay, placed it on [her] and breathed on her and, in the presence of all, it healed her. He then took her and went away, and when the crowds saw this mystery, they glorified God. 3

This interesting story breaks with the tradition that genesis laid down with the snake in Eden. The symbolic nature of these snakes could be taken to illustrate the holy man’s authoritas, his power, over evil. God punished snakes for all time in Genesis 3:14 by saying “Because you have done this,[Tricked Eve into eating the apple] you are cursed more than all animals, domestic and wild. You will crawl on your belly, groveling in the dust as long as you live.” However, Simeon seemingly converted the evil creature, who went to him in supplication and asked for a miracle for his snake wife.

In summation, snakes have been a source of religious veneration, scorn, and allegory in antiquity. Even within one religion, such as Christianity, the notion that snakes are either good or bad remains somewhat fluid. From serious cults devoted to healing the sick, to the puppet-like Glycon, and in Judeo-Christiain mythology, snakes played an integral role in shaping religious doctrine in antiquity.

1. David T. M. Frankfurter, “Stylites and Phallobates: Pillar Religion in Late Antique Syria,” Vigiliae Christianae 44.2 (June 1990).

2. Eric M. Orlin, Temples, Religion, and Politics in the Roman Republic, Leiden, Netherlands: Brill Publishers, 1997), 23.

3. The Lives of Simeon Stylites, Trans. Robert Doran. (Spencer Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1992), 227.