3 I § The Cave and the Labyrinth
In a recent book, [1] W. F. Jackson Knight brings to light some interesting research of which the starting point is the sixth book of the Aeneid, where the gates to the cave of the Cumean Sibyl are described. Why are the Cretan labyrinth and its history described on these gates? The author very rightly refuses to see it as a more or less pointless digression, as have some who go no further than modern 'literary' conceptions. On the contrary, he considers that this passage must have a real symbolic value, since it is based on the close relationship between the labyrinth and the cave, both of which are connected with the same idea of a subterranean journey. According to the interpretation he gives of certain facts which, though pertaining to very different times and regions, are all in agreement, this idea had been originally linked to funerary rites and afterwards, in virtue of a certain analogy, had been transferred to initiatic rites. We will return to this point shortly, but we must first express some reservations as to his understanding of what initiation actually is. In fact, he seems to look on it merely as a product of 'human thought' endowed with a sort of vitality which assures it a kind of permanence through the ages, even if it sometimes exists only in a latent state. After all we have said on this subject, there is no need for us to point out yet again how inadequate such a conception is, above all in that it fails to take into account the 'suprahuman' elements which are, precisely, what constitute the essential. We will insist only on this: the idea of subsistence in a latent state brings up the hypothesis of conservation in a 'collective unconscious' borrowed from certain recent psychological theories. Whatever one may think of these, the application that is made of them here shows a complete failure to recognise the necessity of the initiatic 'chain', that is, of a genuine unbroken transmission. It is true that there is another issue that must not be confused with this: it has happened sometimes that things of a strictly initiatic order have found expression through individualities who were in no way conscious of their true significance, as we have explained previously in connection with the Grail legend. [2] But on the one hand this in no way affects the reality of the initiation
itself; and on the other, Virgil cannot possibly be thought of in this way: he, just like Dante, gives us indications that are much too precise and too obviously conscious to leave us in any doubt that he must have had some initiatic affiliation. What is in question has nothing to do with 'poetic inspiration' in the modernist sense; and in this respect, Jackson Knight is too prone to share the 'literary' views which, on other counts, his thesis goes against. None the less, it must be acknowledged how meritorious it is for a university writer to have the courage to broach such a subject, or even to mention initiation.
To return now to the relationships between the funerary cave and the initiatic cave, even though these relationships certainly exist, the identification of the one with the other as to their symbolism represents only half the truth at most. Let it be noted moreover, that even from the funerary perspective alone, the idea of deriving the symbolism from the ritual, instead of seeing on the contrary, in the ritual itself, symbolism in action, which it truly is, already involves the author in great difficulties when he is faced by the fact that the subterranean journey is almost always followed by a journey in the open air, which many traditions represent as a navigation. This would indeed be inconceivable if it were only a question of a vivid description of a ritual inhumation; but it becomes perfectly comprehensible when we know that it is in reality a question of the various phases passed through by the being in the course of a navigation that is truly 'beyond the grave', and which in no way concerns the body which it has left behind in quitting terrestrial life. On the other hand, and by reason of the analogy existing between death in the ordinary sense of the word and the initiatic death of which we have spoken elsewhere, the same symbolic description can be applied equally well to what happens to the being in either case; there, as far as the cave and the subterranean journey are concerned, lies the reason for the assimilation in question, insofar as it is justified. But at the point beyond which it cannot go, we are still only at what leads up to initiation, and not at initiation itself.
In fact, strictly speaking, there is only a preparation for initiation in death to the profane world, followed by the 'descent into Hell' which is, of course, the same thing as the journey in the subterranean world to which the cave gives access; as for initiation itself, far from being considered as a death, it is on the contrary like a 'second birth', as well as like a passage from darkness to light. Now the place of this birth is still the cave, at least when it is there that the initiation is accomplished, in fact or symbolically; for it goes without saying that one must not generalise too widely, and that, as in the case of the labyrinth which we shall speak of later, it is not a question of something that is necessarily common to all initiatic forms without exception. The same thing is to be seen, moreover, even exoterically, in the Christian symbolism of the Nativity, quite as clearly as in other traditions; and it is obvious that the cave as birthplace cannot have the same meaning as the cave as the place of death or burial. It may be noted however, so as at least to reconcile with each other these different and even apparently opposed aspects, that death and birth are after all two aspects of one same change of state; and
the passage from one state to another is always considered as having to be effected in darkness. [3] In that sense, the cave would be, more precisely, the very place of the passage; but this, though strictly true, is only one side of its complex symbolism.
The fact that the author has not succeeded in seeing the other side of this symbolism is due very probably to the influence of the theories of certain 'historians of religion'. Following them, he in fact admits that the cave must always be connected with 'chthonian' cults, doubtless for the somewhat 'simplistic' reason that it is situated inside the earth; but this interpretation is very far from the truth. [4] Nevertheless, he cannot help but realise that the initiatic cave is represented above all as an image of the world; [5] but his hypothesis prevents him from drawing the obvious conclusion, namely that the cave must form a complete whole and contain in itself the representation of heaven as well as of the earth. If heaven is expressly mentioned in some text or represented in some monument as corresponding to the roof of the cave, his explanations become so confused and unsatisfactory that it is impossible to follow them. The truth is that, far from being a place of darkness, the initiatic cave is illuminated from within, and it is outside the cave that darkness reigns, the profane world naturally being likened to the 'outer darkness' and the 'second birth' being at the same time an 'illumination'. [6] If it be asked why the cave is considered in this way from the initiatic point of view, the answer is that on the one hand the cave, as symbol, is complementary to the mountain, while on the other hand the symbolism of the cave is closely related to that of the heart. We propose to treat these two essential points separately; but it is not difficult to understand, after all we have already said elsewhere, that what we are concerned with here is directly related to the representation of spiritual centres.
We will pass over the other questions which, however important they may be in themselves, are marginal to our present theme, such as, for example, the meaning of the 'golden bough'. It is very doubtful whether this bough can be identified with the baton or rod which, in different forms, is to be found quite
widely in traditional symbolism. [7] Without insisting any more on this point, we will now turn to the labyrinth, the meaning of which may appear still more enigmatic, or at least more disguised, than that of the cave; and we will also examine the relationship between the one and the other.
The labyrinth, as Jackson Knight has clearly perceived, has a double function, in the sense that it permits or forbids, as the case may be, access to a certain place into which not everyone must be allowed to penetrate indiscriminately. Only those who are qualified will be able to pass through it to the end, while the others will be prevented from entering or will go astray along the path. It is immediately obvious that a 'selection' is involved here, which is closely related to initiation. The course of the labyrinth is therefore, in this respect, a representation of the initiatic trials; and it is easy to conceive that when the labyrinth actually served as a means of access to certain sanctuaries, it could be planned so as to enable the corresponding rites to be accomplished in the very course of passage. Also involved is the idea of 'travel', in the sense in which it is comparable to the trials themselves, as is still the case in Masonry, for example, where each of the symbolic trials is designated as a 'journey'. Another equivalent symbolism is that of 'pilgrimage', which brings to mind, in this connection, the labyrinths marked out in the past on the pavement of certain churches; to go along one of these was considered as a 'substitute' for pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Moreover, if the point at which the path ends represents a place reserved for the 'elect', that place is indeed a 'Holy Land' in the initiatic sense of this expression. In other words, it is nothing other than the image of a spiritual centre, as is every place of initiation. [8]
It goes without saying, on the other hand, that the labyrinth as a means of defense or protection has various uses outside the initiatic domain. The author points out, for example, its 'tactical' use at the entrance to certain ancient cities and other fortified places. But it is an error to believe that in such cases the purely profane usage came first and subsequently suggested the idea of ritual use. This is actually a reversal of the normal relationships, a reversal which moreover conforms to modern conceptions, but to these only, and which it is quite illegitimate to attribute to ancient civilisations. In fact, in every strictly traditional civilisation, all things necessarily start from the principle or from what is closest to it, to descend from there to more and more contingent applications; and even these are never considered from the profane point of view which is, as we have often explained, only the result of a degeneration whereby the awareness of their attachment to the
principle has been lost. In the case in question, it can easily be seen that something other is involved than what modern 'tacticians' would see: we have simply to remember that this 'labyrinthine' mode of defense was used not only against human enemies, but also against hostile psychic influences, which clearly indicates that it must have had in itself a ritual value. [9] But there is more to it than this: the founding of cities, the choice of their location, and the plan according to which they were built, were subject to rules which derived essentially from 'sacred science' and which in consequence were far from answering only to 'utilitarian' ends, at least in the exclusively material sense currently given to this word. No matter how completely strange these things may be to the mentality of our contemporaries, it is very necessary to take them into account, failing which those who study the vestiges of ancient civilisations will never be able to understand the true meaning and purpose of what they record, even for what has now come to be called the domain of 'ordinary life' but which had then, like everything else, a strictly ritual and traditional status.
The origin of the name labyrinth is rather obscure and has been the subject of much discussion. Indeed, contrary to what some have thought, it seems that it is not directly connected with the name labrys (the double edged Cretan axe), but rather that both names derive from the same ancient word designating 'stone' (root la, whence laos in Greek and lapis in Latin), so that etymologically the labyrinth could, in brief, be nothing other than an edifice of the type of construction called 'Cyclopean'. This, however, is only the outermost meaning of the name which, in a deeper sense, is bound up with the entire body of stone symbolism which we have mentioned before, in relation either to 'baetyls' or to 'thunderbolts' (identified precisely with the stone axe or labrys) and which has also many other aspects. Jackson Knight has at least some perception of this, for he alludes to 'men born from stone' (let it be noted in passing that this explains the Greek word laos), of which the legend of Deucalion gives us the best known example. A more precise study of the period this relates to, if such a thing were feasible, would undoubtedly enable us to give a meaning to the so-called 'stone-age' quite different from that which is attributed to it by the prehistorians. This brings us back to the cave which, insofar as it is hollowed out of rock, naturally or artificially, belongs to the same symbolism; [10] but there is no reason to suppose that the labyrinth itself necessarily had likewise to be hollowed out of rock. Though it may have been so in certain
cases, that is only an accidental element, so to speak, and cannot enter into its actual definition; for whatever the relationships of the cave and the labyrinth, it is nevertheless important not to confuse them especially when, as here, we are concerned more particularly with the initiatic cave.
It is in fact quite obvious that if the cave is the place where initiation itself is accomplished, the labyrinth, site of the preceding trials, can be nothing more than the way that leads to it, as well as the obstacle that bars the unqualified profane from approaching it. Let us also remember that at Cumae the labyrinth was depicted on the gates as if this representation was somehow a substitute for the labyrinth itself; [11] and Aeneas, while he stops at the entrance to ponder these designs, could in fact be said to pass through the labyrinth mentally if not bodily. On the other hand it does not seem that this mode of access had always been exclusively reserved for sanctuaries situated in caves or symbolically equated with them for, as we have already explained, this is not a characteristic common to all traditional forms; and the purpose of the labyrinth, as defined above, makes it equally suitable for the approaches to any place of initiation, to any sanctuary intended for the 'mysteries' and not for public rites. With this reservation there is none the less one reason to believe that originally at least the labyrinth must have been specifically connected with the initiatic cave: at the outset, both the one and the other seem to have belonged to the same traditional forms, those pertaining to the age of the 'men of stone' to which we have just alluded. The cave and the labyrinth would have begun, therefore, by being closely united, even though they may not have invariably remained so in all later forms.
If we consider the labyrinth in connection with the cave, coiled around it and ending finally with it, then in the complex thus formed the cave is at the innermost central point, which corresponds perfectly with the idea of the spiritual centre, and which agrees equally well with the equivalent symbolism of the heart, to which we propose to return. It should be noted also that when the same cave is the place of both initiatic death and of 'second birth', it must be considered as giving access not only to subterranean or 'infernal' regions, but also to supra-terrestrial domains. This, again, corresponds to the notion of the central point, which is, both macrocosmically as well as microcosmically, the point of communication with all the higher and lower states. Only thus can the cave be, as we have said, the complete image of the world, reflecting all states without exception; otherwise, the equation of the cave roof with the Heavens would be absolutely incomprehensible. But on the other hand, if it is in the cave itself, in the interval between the initiatic death and the 'second birth', that the 'descent into Hell' is accomplished, we must be well on our guard against considering that descent as represented by the passage through the labyrinth, and then it still remains to be seen what this passage corresponds to in reality. It represents the 'outer darkness', to which we have already referred, and to which the state of 'errancy' (if we may use this word) perfectly
applies, and of which such a passage is the exact expression. This theme of 'outer darkness' could be developed in greater detail, but that would lead us beyond the limits of the present study. Besides, we think we have said enough to show, on the one hand, the interest of research such as that undertaken by Jackson Knight and put forward in his book, but also on the other hand, if we are to see the results in perspective and grasp their true importance, the necessity of a strictly 'technical' knowledge of what is involved. Without such knowledge we can never achieve anything other than incomplete and hypothetical reconstructions which, even where they are not falsified by some preconceived idea, will remain as 'dead' as the relics on which they are based.