The Mystery of the Golden Fleece
Greek mythology has handed down the exploits of a group of sailors who set out for a distant land in search of an object of inestimable value. These sailors were called Argonauts, named after their ship, Argo. The land they were heading to was Colchis, and the object of their quest was the fleece of a ram, a very special fleece because it was golden. But what really lies beneath the veil (or rather, the fleece) of the myth? Numerous interpretations have been proposed: here we will briefly review some of them, and then focus on the one I find most coherent. We will show, in particular, how comparative mythology, though often overlooked, constitutes an indispensable tool in this type of investigation.
Index
- Greek Myth and Its Interpretations
- The Fleece and the Sampo
- The Historical-Geographical Context of the Myth
Greek Myth and Its Interpretations
The myth of the Golden Fleece is known to us through various ancient sources: among the main ones are the Argonautica by Apollonius Rhodius, an epic poem from the 3rd century BC. The topic had already been addressed two centuries earlier by Pindar (Pythian IV) and also mentioned by Homer in the Odyssey (XII, 69-72). Although Homer devotes only a few verses to the story, he also informs us that it was already famous (pasimelousa, "sung by all") in his time. This detail is of fundamental importance, as will be seen later.
So, what does the myth tell us? First of all, the saga of the Argonauts has a prelude: Athamas, king of Boeotia, had two children, Phrixus and Helle, by the nymph Nephele, and two more by the princess Ino. The latter, however, hating her stepchildren, devises a plan to get rid of them. She convinces Athamas that the only way to end the famine that has struck Boeotia (which she herself had caused by drying out the grain seeds stored for planting) is to sacrifice Phrixus. Athamas is about to carry out the sacrifice when he is stopped by Heracles; at that moment, the ram Chrysomallos ("with the golden fleece"), sent by Nephele to rescue her children, arrives on the scene, carries Phrixus and his sister Helle on its back, and flies towards Colchis. During the journey, Helle falls into the sea, which will be named after her, the Hellespont ("Sea of Helle"). Phrixus, however, arrives safely at his destination, where he sacrifices the ram to Zeus and gives its fleece to the local king, the terrible Aeëtes.
The expedition of the Argonauts will take place a generation after these events. It all begins when Pelias, king of Iolcus in Thessaly, meets the young Jason, who has come to attend a sacrifice he is officiating. Jason was the son of Aeson, the legitimate heir to the throne of Iolcus, deposed and imprisoned by Pelias, his half-brother. Jason's mother, fearing for her son's life, had made people believe he was dead, secretly entrusting him to the care of the centaur Chiron. Seeing the young man, who had lost a sandal while crossing a river, Pelias becomes suspicious: an oracle had warned him to beware of a man wearing only one sandal. Learning his identity and understanding that he, as the son of his half-brother, is the legitimate heir to the throne, Pelias promises to cede the kingdom to him on the condition that he brings back the Golden Fleece to Greece. Pelias hoped that Jason would perish during the enterprise.
Gathering fifty of the greatest heroes of that generation, Jason sets sail for Colchis aboard the ship Argo. After various adventures, the Argonauts arrive at their destination and present themselves to King Aeëtes, explaining the purpose of their visit. When the king realizes they want the Golden Fleece, he initially flies into a rage but then agrees to give it to them on the condition that Jason first overcomes some difficult trials. In the morning, he would have to yoke two bronze-hoofed, fire-breathing bulls and plow a field with them. In the furrows, he would have to sow dragon's teeth: by evening, armed men would spring from them, whom he would have to fight and kill. Jason, though reluctantly, accepts these conditions. But Medea, Aeëtes' daughter and an expert sorceress, falls in love with him and promises to help him if he marries her. Jason agrees, and thanks to Medea's magical artifices, he manages to overcome all the trials imposed on him.
King Aeëtes, however, realizing that his daughter is involved, has no intention of honoring the agreement. Medea then goes to the Argonauts' camp that same night to warn them of the king's intentions. She then takes Jason to the sacred grove of Ares, where the Fleece, hung on an oak tree, was guarded by a never-sleeping dragon. Medea puts the dragon to sleep with her spells so that Jason can steal the Fleece. They both return to the ship, which quickly sets sail with the precious loot. But realizing the escape, the Colchians immediately set off in pursuit of the Argo. According to one version of the myth, to delay the pursuers, Medea kills her little brother Apsyrtus, whom she had taken on board, cutting him into many pieces and throwing them one by one into the sea. The Colchians, at that point, have no choice but to stop and collect the pieces to give the child a proper burial. After further adventures, the Argonauts finally return to Greece with the Fleece.
As we mentioned at the beginning, the myth of the Golden Fleece has given rise to numerous interpretations since antiquity. According to Strabo (Geography, XI, 2, 19), the Fleece was nothing more than the gold of Colchis, transported by torrents and collected by the inhabitants of the area using animal skins. It appears that in Svaneti, a region in Georgia corresponding to part of ancient Colchis, this method remained in use until recent times:
A sheep's skin, stretched or laid out in some other way on a board, would be placed in the water (near the shore according to Samsiani, in the middle of the river according to Khvistani) and fixed with the wool facing upwards to prevent it from being washed away. The wool would trap the gold and let the water flow through… After a certain time, the skin would be removed from the river and laid out to dry. Once dry, it would be sifted to collect the gold pebbles.Bochorishvili (1946), cited in Pkhakadze and Chagunava (2011)
Diodorus Siculus (Historical Library, IV, 47) also proposes various rationalizing interpretations of the myth. He claims, for example, that the ram that brought Phrixus to Colchis was actually a ship whose prow bore the figure of the animal, and that Helle would have fallen from the ship… due to seasickness! Several authors from late antiquity (and even later) have instead identified the Fleece with a book of alchemy, containing instructions on how to produce gold. The association of a book with a fleece seems logical if we consider that in ancient times people wrote on parchment, which was indeed made from sheep's skin.
Among the interpretations that have had the most supporters is the one that identifies the Fleece as a solar symbol. A good summary can be found in a nineteenth-century edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica:
The sun, the ram with the golden fleece, flies through the air to the land of sunset and at the same time of dawn; there it is sacrificed on the shore in the fire of sunset; its skin is hung on the tree of the night sky and guarded by the malignant power, the dragon, until it is captured by the solar hero, by whom the darkness is dispelled and the dragon is killed.Encyclopedia Britannica, 9th ed., vol. XIII (1888), p. 596
According to another hypothesis, supported by a good number of scholars, the Golden Fleece represents royal power. This interpretation is suggested not only by the fact that Jason must retrieve the Fleece to become king of Iolcus, but also that Aeëtes must keep it to avoid losing his kingdom (Hyginus, Fabula 22). The fact that power was symbolized by the fleece of a ram can be explained by the fact that cattle were once one of the main sources of wealth. Another possible explanation lies in an Etruscan belief reported by the Latin writer Macrobius:
If the fleece of a sheep or a ram is spotted with purple or gold, it is a sign, for the leader of the social class or nation, of prosperity accompanied by the greatest happiness; the nation enhances the glory of its descendants and makes them happier.Saturnalia, III, 7, 2
Which of these interpretations could be closest to the truth? Although some appear convincing, in my opinion none of them is the "correct" one. The key to understanding what I personally believe is the "true" meaning of the myth, the original one, comes from afar, specifically from Finnish mythology.
The Fleece and the Sampo
In the Kalevala, Finland's quintessential epic poem, we find a story that presents numerous points of contact with the myth of the Golden Fleece. One of the protagonists of the story is the old Väinämöinen, who travels to Pohjola, the Northland, in search of a bride. Caught in a storm, he is saved by an eagle, which carries him to the shores of Pohjola, where he is welcomed by Louhi, the lady of the land. At that moment, Väinämöinen's only desire is to return home, so he asks Louhi for help. Louhi not only assures him of her assistance but also promises to give him her daughter in marriage if he forges the “Sampo” for her. Väinämöinen accepts, and Louhi gives him a sleigh and a horse with which he can return home.
Back in his homeland, Väinämöinen tries to persuade the blacksmith Ilmarinen to forge the Sampo. He explains that by doing so, Ilmarinen can marry Louhi’s daughter, the Maiden of Pohjola, but he refuses. However, Väinämöinen manages to make him embark on the journey to the Northland. After speaking with Louhi, Ilmarinen changes his mind and forges the Sampo. Once the precious artifact is obtained, Louhi secures it inside a mountain. Ilmarinen asks for her daughter’s hand as a reward, but the maiden refuses him, and the blacksmith is forced to return home without a bride.
Subsequently, Väinämöinen, having built himself a boat, goes once again to Pohjola to ask Louhi for her daughter's hand. Ilmarinen hears about this and sets out as well, so the two arrive at their destination almost at the same time. Seeing the suitors arrive, Louhi suggests to her daughter that she choose the old Väinämöinen, but she instead chooses Ilmarinen. Louhi then imposes three trials on Ilmarinen: plowing the "field of serpents," capturing the bear of Tuoni and the wolf of Manala, and finally fishing the pike from the river Tuonela. Thanks to the maiden's advice, Ilmarinen succeeds in all these tasks and thus can have his bride.
Sometime later, after his wife has died, Ilmarinen goes again to Pohjola to find another. On this occasion, he sees that thanks to the Sampo, the country enjoys great prosperity, and on his return, he talks about it with Väinämöinen. They both then decide to recover the Sampo, and together with Lemminkäinen (another hero of the poem), they set sail for the Northland. During the journey, they kill a giant pike, from whose jawbone Väinämöinen will craft the first kantele (a traditional Finnish musical instrument). Upon reaching Pohjola, they ask Louhi to give back the Sampo; when she refuses, Väinämöinen takes up the kantele, whose music puts the Lady of Pohjola and all her people to sleep. The heroes then steal the Sampo, take it to their ship, and flee.
Awakening from sleep and realizing what has happened, Louhi arms a warship and pursues the three heroes, catching up with them. A battle ensues during which the Sampo falls into the sea, shattering into a thousand pieces. Both Väinämöinen and Louhi manage to recover some fragments, but Louhi's pieces will not be enough to bring prosperity to her land.
As the reader will have noticed, the parallels with the Greek myth are numerous. The Sampo (whose mysterious nature we will investigate shortly) can obviously be compared to the Fleece, just as Pohjola can be compared to Colchis. The "Finnish Jason" is Ilmarinen, while Louhi and her daughter correspond to King Aeëtes and his daughter Medea, respectively. Ilmarinen has to overcome trials very similar to those imposed on Jason, and both manage to succeed thanks to the help of a maiden, their future bride. Finally, it is impossible not to see in the theft of the Sampo a parallel to the theft of the Golden Fleece: certain details, such as the pursuit of the fugitives by the people of Pohjola and the destruction of the Sampo, whose pieces end up in the sea, closely recall the pursuit of the Argonauts by the Colchians and the killing of Apsyrtus, whose body parts are thrown into the sea by Medea.
At this point, we need to understand what the Sampo really was. As with the Golden Fleece, there is no shortage of interpretations; however, the fact that the poem repeatedly associates it with a "mill" would lead us to identify it as a mill:
There the Sampo grinds;
the adorned lid turns:
one day it grinds for eating,
the second for selling,
the third for storing at home.Kalevala, XXXVIII, 303-307
It should be evident, however, that here we are not dealing with just any mill, but a very special one: the Mill of Heaven. The ancients, in fact, compared the rotation of the celestial vault to the movement of a millstone: Cleomedes, a Greek astronomer of the 2nd century AD, states for example that in the northernmost regions of the globe "the heavens rotate like the millstone of a mill" (De motu circulari corporum caelestium, I, 7). Many other examples of this concept can be found in the famous book by Giorgio de Santillana and Hertha von Dechend, aptly titled Hamlet's Mill. The two authors dwell at length on the Kalevala story while only briefly touching on the Golden Fleece. Regarding the Sampo, they state that
…one thing is certain and beyond dispute: the Sampo is nothing other than the sky itself. The formulaic attribute kirjokansi, "variegated" [referring to the "lid" of the Sampo], is indeed used, in Finnish folk poetry, for the "cover" of the celestial vault… As for the name Sampo, it resisted the attempts of linguists until its derivation from the Sanskrit skambha, "pole, pillar," was discovered. Since it is a "mill," the Sampo is clearly a mill; but the shaft of the mill is also the axis of the world…Hamlet's Mill, p. 141
Once the connection between the Sampo and the axis mundi is established, it becomes clear why the Golden Fleece is hung on an oak tree and guarded by a dragon. The oak obviously symbolizes the axis of the world, while the dragon represents the circumpolar constellation of Draco (or perhaps the rotational movement of the axis). Incidentally, it is precisely a "Great Oak" that plays the role of the "world tree" among the Finnish peoples (Ridderstad, 2014).
But why was the Sampo stolen and ultimately destroyed? Well, the key to understanding this episode lies in the precession of the equinoxes. Over time, the "wobble" of the Earth's axis results in the gradual shift of the Pole Star. And since the Pole Star, as the authors of Hamlet's Mill inform us, was perceived by the ancients as the "pivot" of the Celestial Mill, its shift would have been comparable to a real "dismantling," which would have destroyed the celestial configuration of that "age of the world." Practically, therefore, the theft of the Sampo (comparable to that of the Fleece, although the latter is not destroyed) represents the transition from one age of the world to another. A transition that, although attributable to the "tranquil" phenomenon of precession, cannot be excluded from having been accompanied by some kind of catastrophe.
The Historical-Geographical Context of the Myth
If our interpretation is correct, then the myth of the Golden Fleece originally had a cosmological significance. This does not exclude the possibility that the story, in the form in which it has come down to us, developed in a specific historical-geographical context, where it may have gained additional meanings.
But is it possible to trace this context? The fact that the saga of the Argonauts was already known to Homer indicates that it dates back, at the very least, to the Nordic Bronze Age, much like the Homeric poems themselves. The Nordic origin of the myth would explain its numerous similarities with the Finnish epic, similarities that scholars have long known but, incredibly, have never given the attention they deserved.
We have already seen that Pohjola, the Northland of the Kalevala, corresponds to the Colchis of Greek mythology. At this point, it is legitimate to ask whether this correspondence is due to a true identity between the two regions. Pohjola, described as a dark and icy land, reachable by both sea and land, clearly corresponds to Lapland. And Colchis? Well, as we observed some time ago, several clues suggest the existence of a "Lappish Colchis." The Greek poet Mimnermus (7th-6th century BC), for example, placed Colchis "on the shores of the ocean," where "the rays of the sun rest on a bed of gold." Such words do not fit well with the Caucasian Colchis, as it is difficult to consider the Black Sea an "ocean," and it is strange that the sun goes to "rest" in a region located to the east of Greece…
On this note, it is curious to observe the similarity between the name of Colchis (in Greek Kolkhis) and the Finnish term kolkka, meaning "corner, extremity," which aptly describes the northernmost regions of Scandinavia. In short, Colchis would have been the "extreme land," that is, "of the extreme North," just like Pohjola! This toponym, originally Nordic, would later have been transposed to the Caucasus, although it still seems to echo in the name of the Kola Peninsula (in Russian Kolsky).
Let's not forget that, just like in the Caucasus, there is gold in Lapland as well: if the voyage of the Argonauts actually took place, the search for the precious metal could have been the main motive. The expedition, departing from "Iolcus" (perhaps Jolkka in Finland), might have reached Lapland by crossing the lakes Ladoga and Onega and the White Sea, then returned to the Baltic via the Skagerrak, after sailing along the coast of Norway. The return route would coincide with that of Odysseus: like him, the Argonauts would have stopped at the island of Circe (sister of Aeëtes) and with the Phaeacians, located at the northern and southern ends of Norway, respectively.
If the Colchis where Jason went is identified with Lapland, then the Colchians must correspond to the Sami people. In fact, according to Greek mythology, King Aeëtes was "the son of the Sun": similarly, the Sami of Lapland consider themselves "children of the Sun"! Additionally, the name Aeëtes (in Greek Aietes) derives from the term for eagle (aietos), and during the battle to recover the Sampo, Louhi (whom we have already identified with the king of Colchis) takes the form of an eagle (Kalevala, XLIII, 147-166).
In light of all this, we can make some hypotheses about the relationship between the Sampo and the Golden Fleece. The oldest symbol was most likely that of the "mill": so how did it become a "fleece"?
One possibility is a linguistic misunderstanding. The Greek term for "wool" (mallos) indeed resembles several words in Indo-European languages that refer to "grinding" (Old Norse mala, Latin molo, and so on). Perhaps then, in an earlier version of the myth, the Argonauts stole not a fleece but a golden millstone. The episode of Phrixus and the ram might be an independent story, later integrated into the rest of the tale. Identifying the Fleece with a millstone would not only further align it with the Sampo but also bring the Greek myth closer to the Iranian world, which also has echoes of "Hyperborean" traditions. According to the Greek historian Ctesias, for instance, the Persian general Megabizo, son-in-law of Xerxes, was rewarded for his military victories with "a golden millstone weighing six talents [about 160 kilograms], the greatest royal gift a Persian could receive" (Persica, 26).
The image of the Golden Fleece might also have been inspired by some ancient customs typical of the northern peoples. In his 1730 text The Suppression of Idolatry, the Norwegian missionary Jens Kildal describes a practice that closely resembles Phrixus' sacrifice of the ram and the placement of its fleece on the oak tree:
Every year, in autumn, the idolatrous Sami sacrifice a reindeer, an ox, or another domestic animal to Maylmenradien, their supreme god, who thus will not let the world collapse and will grant them luck with the reindeer. In his honor, a pole, called the Maylmen pole, is placed by the sacrificial altar, with which he will support the world, and it is anointed with the blood of the animal sacrificed to him…Kildal (1730), cited by Hansen and Olsen (2014)
A couple of centuries earlier, in 1555, the Swedish archbishop and geographer Olaus Magnus had published The History of the Northern Peoples, where he described another curious tradition of the people who "live under the Pole":
They spread over a staff, or a pole, a piece of red cloth, praying to it and worshipping it with very attentive and devout prayers, and they honor it greatly, believing that it possesses a divine virtue due to its red color, similar to the blood of animals.The History of the Northern Peoples, book III, chapter II
In this red cloth hung on a pole, which also appears in a 1570 map of Russia, it is hard not to hear the echo of the precious Fleece of Greek mythology, which, according to the Greek poet Simonides (6th-5th century BC), was not golden but purple.
Another possibility is that the myth as we know it took its final form after the descent of Greek-speaking peoples into the Mediterranean. In this case, we might reconsider the ancient thesis of Strabo: the heirs of the mythical Argonauts, having renamed the extremity (no longer northern but eastern) of their "new world" as "Colchis," could have coined the expression "Golden Fleece" to describe the method of gold extraction typical of that region. Only later did the Fleece enter the myth, replacing the original Mill of Heaven. Perhaps this substitution of symbols occurred because, in the meantime, the theme of the "gold rush" had become predominant.
We must also mention the similarities between the Greek Fleece and the Hittite kursa. The latter was a bag made of animal skin, kept in temples and considered a symbol of abundance and prosperity. It is also the protagonist of a myth in which it is hung on a tree, just like the Golden Fleece, and of the Purulli festival, celebrated in spring, during which old bags were burned and replaced with new ones. During this festival, a poem was recited that spoke of the triumph of the storm god Teshub over the dragon Illuyanka, thanks to the help of the goddess Inara. This story is very similar to that of Jason and Medea, although the kursa does not explicitly appear in it. It is difficult to determine, however, whether this tale was the source of the Greek one or if both derive from a common Indo-European heritage. I lean towards the latter hypothesis, although the parallel with Finnish mythology indicates that the original source must probably be placed even further back in time.
This article is an english translation of "Il Mistero del Vello d’Oro" from merlo Bianco, available at https://merlobianco.altervista.org/il-mistero-del-vello-doro/
