At the center of the Pagan traditions in the House of Night is Nyx, Goddess of the vampyres. Born out of Chaos, she was among the first of the Greek gods and existed beyond rule. Not even Zeus, father of the Olympians, reigned above her.
The Virgin Mary is younger than Nyx, but surrounded by as much mysticism as the Goddess of primordial night. Chosen to bear the son of God through the Holy Spirit, Mary is highly revered in most sects of Christianity, second only to the Holy Trinity (God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit). While she may be referred to as Saint Mary, she is considered a higher power, especially in the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox faiths.
Historically, practitioners of Christianity and Paganism have often been at odds, a fact evidenced by such bloody confrontations as the 200-year Holy Crusades and the Salem Witch Trials. But despite the centuries of bad blood between these religious traditions, their primary female deities share quite a few characteristics.
In particular, Nyx and Mary are linked through motherhood.
THE DIVINE MOTHER
Numerous fertility goddess artifacts found around the world have led many to speculate that the worship of the female deity is older than that of masculine gods. Not too surprising when you think about what is at the core of the female deity’s identity: the power to create life. Everything on this earth has a starting place, a beginning, and it is the female members of most earth species that have been gifted with the power to give birth. While Nyx and Mary also share this gift, they do so in exceptional ways.
The Virgin Mary was the only child of an old and barren couple. Her birth was a miracle to her parents, and for this miracle they pledged Mary’s service to the church. When she was still a young girl, they betrothed her to the carpenter Joseph, but the angel Gabriel visited Mary and gave her the news that she would bear the Son of God through immaculate conception. Devoted to God and the church, Mary accepted this news willingly.
The subsequent conception and deliverance of the Savior of mankind made Mary one of the most celebrated figures in Christianity, particularly in the Greek Orthodox tradition. I have never been to a Greek Orthodox church in the United States or abroad where an icon of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus was not prominently and reverently displayed. August 15th, the feast day of the Assumption that marks the Virgin’s death and passing into heaven, is celebrated as a high holiday with fanfare equal to Christmas (the beginning of her son’s life) and Easter (the celebration of her son’s resurrection from death).
Like Mary, the Nyx of Greek myth was also known for autonomous birth and may just be one of the first women to ask, “Who needs a man?” Though often linked to her consort Erebus, with whom she had children, Nyx gave birth to the majority of her progeny on her own. Hypnos (sleep), Oneira (dreams), Charon (ferryman to death), the Fates (the Moirae and the Keres), the Hesperides, Nemsis (retribution), Apate (deception), Philotes (friendship), Geras (age), and Eris (strife) were all born without male intervention. How’s that for sisters doing it for themselves?
FEMALE WORSHIP
The amazing power of fertility as exhibited by Nyx and Mary forms the basis of most worship of the female divine. Associated with fertility are realms of nature, the hearth, and the home. In fact, most of the well-known female deities in ancient and contemporary polytheistic and monotheistic religions—Gaia, Isis, Kali—rule over common elements of earth, the household, fertility, love, and internal energy. It is to these female deities that humans have turned to when praying for families, loved ones, and homes.
In the House of Night series, female worship and ritual is marked strongly by compassion, reliance on instinct, and an innate connection to the elements: air, fire, water, earth, and spirit. Coloring all of these things is perhaps the strongest universal element of all: the encompassing love and protection offered by the female divinity.
As the female deity watches over all her children, her children have the faith that when they call on their Goddess through prayer and ritual she will come to their aid. Several times, we see Zoey calling out to Nyx for help, and Nyx often answers her through the protective element of Spirit. Not only does Zoey believe that the Goddess will protect her, she believes that her control over the elements, a gift from Nyx, will see her through danger, a belief echoed by the rest of Zoey’s circle. We see, too, that even when her followers stray to the side of darkness, Nyx always gives them a chance to return to the light.
Zoey’s trust and faith in Nyx is not at all unlike the faith Christian practitioners place in Mary, mother of saints. The familiar image of the Virgin holding the child Jesus close to her bosom is symbolic not only of a mother protecting her child, but that of the archetypal Great Mother protecting all her children. In the Greek Orthodox religion, one can call on any of the saints for protection or assistance, but the one called upon most in times of panic is the Virgin Mary. In Greek, the most common phrase used is Panaghia Mou, or “My Saint-of-All.” (As the woman who bore the Savior, Mary ranks above all the saints.) And as with Zoey’s pleas to Nyx, it matters less what you do in praying to Mary than the intent in your heart when calling upon her.
PRAYER CANDLES AND CIRCLE RITUALS
However, in reaching out to the divine, it seems too simplistic to just call out to them. Our base instincts require rituals and formalities, including prayers and offerings that illustrate our needs and devotion. And in many Christian traditions, those practices are not all that different from the ways we see the House of Night vampyres reach out to Nyx, or from religious practices in other cultures.
When I go to church, the first thing I do is light a candle. I make a wish for myself and for the well-being of my loved ones, and in front of an icon, usually the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus, I pay my respects by crossing myself, saying a prayer, and kissing the icon. In addition to lighting a candle, my mother always makes a point to cut a rose or some fresh basil from her garden and lay it at the icon’s base. In Roman Catholic churches, there is usually a basin or wall fixture filled with holy water nearby in which worshippers can dip their fingers before crossing themselves.
Wiccans follow a similar tradition when they cast a spell—or an organized wish, as my female mystic writers have explained it to me. Set up your altar, light a candle, offer flowers to the deity, and make a wish.
In Nyx’s circle, we see these same elements represented and called forth in a different way. With colored candles in hand, the House of Night fledglings take their places at the north, south, east, and west points of the circle, placements that also evoke the sign of the Christian cross: the father (top/forehead), the son (bottom/heart), and the holy spirit (left and right/the shoulders). The circle caster then lights each fledgling’s candle, acknowledging the corresponding element and welcoming it into the circle: yellow air (evoking the smoke rising from the Christian votive candle), red fire (the candle’s flame), green earth (the flowers and basil at the icon’s base), blue water (the blessed holy water with which worshippers cross themselves), and purple spirit (the wish/prayer we send to the deity).
In the House of Night series, candle use is not limited to circles, though; in the series, we also see these wax pillars serving as a means of protection. When the Raven Mockers begin to manifest on the House of Night campus in Untamed, Grandma Redbird comes to stay with Zoey, bringing with her tools drawn from Cherokee tradition for Zoey’s physical and spiritual protection. They hang a dream catcher in the window, but they also light a moon candle to keep Kalona away.
Every Saturday night and Sunday morning during religious holidays, my grandmother and mother would set out a small glass covered with a special dome with a cross on it and fill it with oil. Like Zoey’s moon candle, lighting the wick of the oil candle was a way of bringing God into our home and protecting us through the day and night. If you travel in Greece, you will notice small stands—stone columns with single stone boxes on top—by the side of highways, especially in the more rural areas. On each stand is a little door with a cross on it, and inside is an icon
and a small glass filled with oil. Nightly, an older village woman will fill the glass with oil and light it. Now these stands seem to have been around forever. I’m not quite sure why they were built or how or when the trend took off, but I suspect that before cars became such a common convenience, when people were still traveling difficult mountainous regions by mules or by foot (not that long ago, think 1940s), they wanted to see a light on a dark road. A sense that someone was watching over them. A place where they could stop and say a prayer:
Panaghia Mou, My Virgin, watch over me and my family. Keep us safe.
SPIRITUAL CLEANSING
The cleansing rituals in the House of Night series, too, are similar to spiritual cleansing rituals in some Christian religions.
In Cherokee religion, smudging has been used for centuries for rituals involving cleansing, purifying, or protection. Burning a bundle of herbs (usually sage) and wafting the smoke over the body was a way of honoring the Great Spirit and cleansing the individual’s spirit. In Untamed, when Zoey calls Grandma Redbird for advice on Aphrodite’s vision prophesying the return of Kalona, Grandma Redbird advises they each do a cleansing ritual before she will allow Zoey to explain her situation: “Zoey, I’m going to light the smudge pot before we speak any more of these creatures. I’m using sage and lavender. I’ll be fanning the smoke with a dove’s feather while we talk. Zoeybird, I suggest you do the same.” The herbs in Grandma Redbird’s smudge pot are the same ones Zoey uses to correct and chase away the evil spirits Aphrodite accidently calls during her disastrous Samhain ritual in Marked.
The ancient Greeks and Romans, as well as the Babylonians, did something very similar in their religious cleansing and purification ceremonies: they burned incense. Incense also plays a role in Chinese culture. During religious events in ancient China, according to historian Joseph Needham, “the incense-burner remained the centre of changes and transformations associated with worship, sacrifice, ascending perfume of sweet savour, fire, combustion, disintegration, transformation, vision, communication with spiritual beings, and assurances of immortality.”
In Catholic and Eastern Orthodox practices, incense is burned ritualistically during regular and special prayer services and Masses in something called a censer. A censer, which hangs from chains, is a vessel shaped like cup or a bowl. The censer is surrounded by twelve small bells (to symbolize Christ’s twelve apostles) and contains little carbon discs that are set on fire. Incense is placed on the carbon disks and the censer is then swung toward icons and worshippers with the purpose of helping prayers travel to Heaven.
Incense burning is also used in household spirtual cleansing rituals. In my home growing up and even still today, my family has a tiny vessel (not a censer, more like a brass holder) that we use to burn incense. We regularly walk around the house with it and make the sign of the cross in front of doors and windows. This is a mode of cleansing intended to banish negative energy, much like the Wiccan and Cherokee use of a smudge stick. Grandma Redbird, I think, would approve.
GIVING THANKS
There is one other element I’d like to touch on here, one that is common across almost all religions: gratitude. For everything we receive from our deities, we must be thankful.
When we ask and receive, there must be a show of appreciation: a mental and verbal acknowledgment of “thank you.”
Zoey understands this intimately. Through the love of her friends and with the help of Nyx, Zoey, almost killed and left with a ragged scar from a Raven Mocker, is healed and becomes whole again. Afterwards:
I lifted my hand, letting my fingers run across my throat. Nothing. There was not a scratch there. I closed my eyes and sent a silent thank you for my friends’ prayer to Nyx. (Untamed)
Giving thanks is a big part of the vampyre religious tradition. We only have to look as far as the closing of the circle ritual in which Zoey thanks each element before releasing it back into nature. And Christians also believe in giving thanks in acknowledgement of divine gifts. Even things as simple as a meal are acknowledged at the dinner table. This is why we say grace.
By thanking our god or goddess, we are performing the same ritual, whether we do so with prayer, with flowers, with sacrifice, with an oath, or with a promise of change. But above all, every one of us thanks our gods by acknowledging their existence in our hearts.
APPLES AND ORANGES
In the final scene of My Big Fat Greek Wedding—a film that’s all about finding common ground in disparate cultures—the father of the bride, Gus, makes a funny yet insightful comment during the wedding toast. He says the name Miller, his daughter’s new last name, comes from the Greek word for apple, milo. Portokalos, Gus’ last name, means orange. Finally resigned to the fact that his daughter will marry a non-Greek, he concludes that, despite their cultural differences, “In the end, we’re all fruits.”
Despite worshipping different religions, we see that Zoey and her friends, Grandma Redbird, and the Benedictine nuns all pray for the same things: guidance, strength, and help. Does it matter, in the end, to which divine female—or even divine male—the prayer goes? Our wishes are born in our hearts and they travel out into the greater universe. Ultimately, our hope is that the universe will catch our need and turn our wish into reality. To help our wishes make their journey safely and give weight to our intentions, we might light a candle or blow one out. Maybe we’ll say a prayer, or build an altar. The wishes themselves remain the same.
It’s up to each of us to remember that, and to remember that we all reflect a sacred light. Like the Goddess, we have a vast ability for compassion and empathy. We understand that we can be Tempted, or lead others astray. Sometimes we hurt others; other times we are Betrayed. But at the end of the road, with the right spiritual guidance, we can be Awakened. In worshipping our goddesses, we worship ourselves. And I now realize that every time P.C. addressed me as “Goddess Editor” it was her way of saying, as they do in the Hindu tradition, Namaste—The divine in me greets the divine in you.
CHRISTINE ZIKA is currently Editor-in-Chief at The Literary Guild and Rhapsody book clubs. She has been an editor for over twenty years and has worked with fiction and nonfiction authors at Avon Books, Dell Publishing, and Berkley Publishing.
{ Cruithne Mythos in the House of Night }
P.C. Cast
FIRST, LET me explain why I use the term “Cruithne” and not “Celtic” when I speak of Scottish and Irish Clansfolk.
It may surprise readers to find out that the word most used to describe the culture and people of northwestern Europe, Celtic or Celt, is a modern word that only came into popular usage in the last century. The word comes from a Latin description of a small Spanish tribe that Roman scribes and historians used to create myths about a fictional race they called the Celts. These myths were so successful that, in today’s world, it’s now generally believed that the Celts were every bit as real as the Romans, when in truth a “Celtic race” only existed in fiction.
The Scots and Irish Gaelic culture we associate with the term today, though, is very real. It just has no connection to those original Roman myths. After the Second World War, with the movement of peoples around Europe, the art and music of the Scots and Irish appealed to the souls of many nations, and they, most specifically of all northwestern Europeans, began to be called Celts.
The Clansfolk of Scotland and Ireland today prefer to be called by their ancient name of Cruithne. Cruithne is a Gaelic word used by Gaels themselves that specifically refers to the indigenous peoples of Scotland, Ireland, and Northwest Wales. This Gaelic word, by definition, incorporates the music, history, myths, legends, gods, and goddesses of the Gaelic peoples (oddly mirroring what the fictional title Celt had been created to do). Why I choose to use Cruithne instead of the more easily recognized Celt is because as I listened to their stories I saw that, in their own language, Cruithne is who they were, are, and ever will be.
WHEN ZOEY’S soul shattered at the end of Tempted and I began to research the perfect
place to use as a conduit between the modern world and Nyx’s Otherworld, Scotland immediately came to mind. I’ve long felt a connection to Scotland. I’ve studied Cruithne history and mythology, and as a high school English teacher I led several groups of students to Scotland. I’ll always remember the first time I crossed the English/Scottish border in 1994. Our tour bus stopped at one of those huge dividing stones that say “ENGLAND” on one side and “SCOTLAND” on the other. It was raining (of course!), and as I traced my fingers over the damp letters, S C O T L A N D, I thought, Finally here. I’d enjoyed England, and still do, but Scotland has had my heart for a long time.
So it felt right for me to look to Scotland for the magick and myth to solve Zoey’s Otherworldly dilemma. As I considered the setting, I was drawn to the Scottish Highlands, the Isle of Skye in particular. Some people will call it luck or accident; I like to think of it as listening to and then following my intuition, which was, perhaps, guided by a little nudge from the Goddess. But whatever it was, I found myself in Edinburgh meeting Seoras Wallace, Chieftain of Clan Wallace, who was the research assistant my fabulous UK publisher hired for me. That day in early August of 2009 changed my life, as well as the mythology of the House of Night.
Seoras and I shared an instant connection, and on that sunny August day in the Highlands (yes! The sun does sometimes shine in the Highlands!), I stepped into another world as this Chieftain recognized and honored me as what he called a “shenachie,” or a traditional storyteller for the Clan, usually a revered, hereditary position. Seoras introduced me to Clan members who began answering my research questions by sharing with me the gift of their oral history. Because of the respect with which Seoras regarded me, I was accepted by and felt completely at home with his Clan—and not just the men and women in Scotland! Seoras knew I needed more of the ancient Cruithne, so he opened the door to mystical Ireland and one of his Irish Clan brothers. This allowed me to attain a richer, more three-dimensional picture of the Cruithne mythos. In my research for Burned I made four lengthy trips to Scotland, and I wove the beautiful Scottish and Irish story threads I discovered there into a new mythological tapestry for the House of Night.
Nyx in the House of Night Page 18
