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Welcome to Continental Drift, and Happy Halloween! Today we’ll be doing a Halloween special! (or I guess Halloween Eve?? Which is weird because Halloween is already All Hallows’ Eve, so I guess All Hallows’ Eve Eve?? Whatever.) This episode is gonna be a bit different from the others we’ve done this semester; last year, the host did Halloween traditions around the world, so obviously I can’t do the exact same thing; instead, I opted for something a little more somber: death mythology! I love love love mythology, so I figured today we’d get into some stories about death from different cultures around the world, both living and dead. Let’s get into it, yeah?

Danse Macabre: The Jivin’ Dead!

So this first song is called Danse macabre, by the French composer Camille Saint-Saens. It’s based on an old European legend that every year on Halloween, Death itself would pull up into town at midnight to raise the dead as skeletons while he plays a fiddle. Though the dead danced, they had until dawn when the rooster crowed, at which point they had to go back into their graves and wait for the next year. 

Interestingly, the Danse macabre song is actually based on a specific medieval artistic motif of the same name; of course, back in the day you had all sorts of art depicting saints and angels and things like that, meant to give the people a sense of security. But of course you also have to remember; everyone dies. Rich, poor, sinner, saint, adult, child, death comes for us all the same. And that’s what this motif is meant to do, it’s meant to remind the audience that everyone dies, to not forget that life is fragile and precious and impermanent. And so we get this song, a musical representation of that. Fun times!

We’re gonna stick around in Europe for just a bit, but we’re gonna drift on over to Finland! This piece, by Jean Sibelius, is called The Swan of Tuonela. The Swan of Tuonela is based on the Kalevala, the national epic of Finland. In Finnish mythology, Tuonela is the name of the Finnish underworld, which is ruled by the god Tuoni and his wife Tuonetar, and is separated from the living world by a great river. 

The title character of this song is the river’s guardian, a magical black swan who sings death spells to prevent the dead from swimming back to the living world. Specifically, this piece depicts an episode where the hero Lemminkainen is torn apart on his quest to the underworld to kill the swan. Word gets out to his mom, who then dredges the river to find every piece of him, sews him back together, and resurrects him. It’s an example of my favorite type of myth, called a katabasis, which I’ll talk about later.

First 2 Songs

Danse macabre // Camille Saint-Saens

The Swan of Tuonela // Jean Sibelius

This next song is called The Gallu Pursuit, by Connie Han. The story it’s based on is from Sumer, which was a civilization several thousand years ago in what is now Iraq. In Sumerian mythology, the goddess of love and war, Inanna, goes to visit her sister Ereshkigal, goddess of Kur, the underworld. Inanna tries to take over Kur, is killed on the spot, and stays there since she’s dead. Eventually she escapes, but she’s being chased by these demons called gallu whose job is to bring her back. She manages to permanently escape and come back to life by trading places with someone else. See, while Inanna was dead, the people in her life all mourned her. Except, that is, for her husband Dumuzid, the god of shepherds. He’s absolutely having the time of his life. So Inanna sics the gallu on him and they drag him to Kur. Don’t worry though, he gets better (sort of); Inanna relents a bit and decrees that instead of Dumuzid just being permanently dead, his sister, who wants to rescue him, gets to trade places with him for half of every year, and so they cycle in and out with the seasons. It’s meant to be a “changing of the seasons” myth, but the more mythology you learn, what you notice is that those types of myths very frequently involve some god dying or basically dying (like by being dragged to the underworld), so I think it fits to bring up here. 

Izanagi (with the spear) and Izanami creating land

Shinto mythology from Japan has the story of Izanami and Izanagi, the mother and father of a number of important gods, called kami. The story goes that they’re having a ton of kids, but eventually Izanami gives birth to Kagu-Tsuchi, the kami of fire. Problem is, bearing a flaming child is generally not considered good for your health, so Izanami dies from the burns she sustains giving birth. Izanagi goes to Yomi, the land of the dead, to rescue her, and the lovers reunite in the dark of the underworld, but Izanami has already eaten the food of Yomi, and is thus bound to the afterlife. She says that in the morning, she can ask for permission to leave, and so they rest for the night. 

Izanagi is impatient and wants to see his wife’s face, so he lights a fire and finds, to his horror, that she is decayed and maggot-ridden. He screams, then runs as Izanami wakes up and chases after him. Izanagi makes it out of Yomi alive and seals Izanami in with a boulder. Furious, Izanami vows that if Izanagi leaves her, she’ll kill a thousand people every day. Izanagi, in reply, says that he’ll allow 1500 people to be born every day to counteract this. And that’s the story that explains why people die! 

In Haitian Vodou, the spirits, called lwa (pronounced loh-uh) are separated into different groups based on their nature; today, though, the specific group I want to talk about is called Guede. The Guede lwa are spirits that are usually associated with death and fertility, and are known to be a pretty fun bunch, prone to raunchy humor and such. In Vodou ceremonies, it’s said that participants can be possessed by the lwa, and in order to encourage a specific lwa to possess someone, there’s these drum patterns and dances associated with different lwa groups. The drum pattern and dance associated with the Guede specifically is called banda, which is Vodou’s contribution to this evening’s music. Also, fun fact, in Haiti, the Guede have their own festival, Fet Gede, which is like this annual festival honoring the dead. It’s actually later this week, Nov 1. and 2!

Second Set of Songs

The Gallu Pursuit // Connie Han

Izanami and Izanagi // Izvnvgi (pronounced Izanagi)

Banda // The Drummers of the Societe Absolument Guinin

The story for tonight that is perhaps the most familiar to you comes all the way from Greece: the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice. Orpheus was a musician who married the nymph Eurydice. On the night of their wedding, Eurydice was chased by another man. Some say it was a satyr (half-man, half-goat), others say it was Aristaeus, god of beekeeping. Whoever it was wanted her for himself, and while running from him, she was bitten by a venomous snake and died. Orpheus, legendary musician that he was, sang his way into hell, which moved Hades and Persephone so much that they let him bring Eurydice back. 

Ah, but this story is a tragedy, and here’s why: the catch was that if he looked at Eurydice while leading her from the Underworld, he would be unable to bring her back. He’s plagued with doubt on the return journey, and the second he steps foot back in the land of the living, he turns around, sees Eurydice just behind him, and loses her once again to death. It’s a sad story, and similar to the story with Izanagi and Izanami, and multiple other stories from tonight, it’s an example of a katabasis: some figure makes a descent, usually into the underworld, and oftentimes with the intent of rescuing a loved one. Katabases are my absolute favorite type of myth, and I’m something of a hopeless romantic, so I like to think of the katabasis as how love perseveres even in the face of death, but obviously, even when love perseveres, it doesn’t always beat death. (That was weirdly melancholy, so let’s move on, shall we?)

This next song is the Ride of the Valkyries by Richard Wagner; awful man, good composer. Anyway, let’s talk about Valkyries. When you die in Norse mythology, a few different things could happen to you: you could go to Hel if you die a normal death, but if you die in combat, you go either to Folkvangr (ruled by Freya) or Valhalla (ruled by Odin). Valkyries are the ones who spot people dying on the battlefield and ferry their souls off to Valhalla. The word valkyrie itself means “chooser of the slain”. It’s like an army of grim reaper warrior ladies whose job is to make sure fighters get to the right afterlife. Which is absolutely sick if you think about it!

In a few different Latin American countries, but particularly Mexico, there’s a legend of a spectre called La Llorona. There’s different versions of the story, but as one of them goes, she was a beautiful woman who found her husband cheating with another woman. In a rage, she drowns her children in a river, then in her guilt, drowns herself. She isn’t allowed to pass onto the next life until she finds her kids, so she wanders the earth as a ghost, and will abduct children who stray near water on their own. The legend has inspired many works of art, including the song also called La Llorona!

Osiris (the zombie-lookin’ fella) and Set (the guy with the animal head)

Our final story comes to us this evening from Egypt. I’m talking about the story of Osiris. Osiris, god of fertility and agriculture, was the pharaoh of Egypt. His brother Set murders him for some reason that depends on the version of the story, but his body is hacked into pieces and scattered throughout Egypt. Osiris’ wife Isis collects his pieces and puts him back together, whereupon he becomes the first mummy and is temporarily revived. This revival isn’t permanent, though, and he returns to death once more, but now he’s gained a new role as god of the dead.

Third Set of Songs

Orpheus in the Underworld: Overture // Jacques Offenbach

Ride of the Valkyries // Richard Wagner

La Llorona // Chavela Vargas

Osiris and Set // Lonnie Plaxico

Once an episode I play an on-theme song at the end just because I can, and that’s what this last song is. This song is called Etemmu (Interludio) by Jay Cas. Etemmu is actually the Akkadian word for ghost! When someone dies, according to Mesopotamian mythology, they leave behind a ghost. If they had kids while alive, the family could pour sacrifices into the grave to keep them fed in the afterlife. If they didn’t have anyone to do this, they would become restless, hungry and thirsty, and haunt the living. And if their body is destroyed in a fire, or if they die alone in the desert (weirdly specific), then there’s no ghost at all. Nothing left. Anyway, here’s Etemmu (Interludio) by Jay Cas, and that’ll be our show! Happy Halloween!

Last Song Because I Can

Etemmu // Jay Cas