Bearing Torches

A Devotional Anthology for Hekate

Edited by Sannion and the Editorial Board

of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina
Hekate Collage by Krysta S Roy
Storms' Queen Hekate by Antonella Vigliarolo

Copyright 2011 by Neos Alexandria

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rights reserved. No part of this book may be
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Table of Contents

Dedication
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Editorial Note
The Key Bearer by Michael Routery
Finding My Way to Hekate by John Drury
Hecate in My Life by Allyson Szabo
She Meets Me at the Crossroads and Shows Me the
Way by Krysta S. Roy
A Triad for Hekate by Rebecca Buchanan
Who is Hekate? by Amanda Sioux Blake
Shaking the Bones by Melitta Benu
To Hekate by Corbin
Devotional Prayer to Hekate by Antonella Vigliarolo
Hekate, the Dark Goddess by Diotima Sophia
Ashes for Hekate by Amanda Sioux Blake
Heliotrope Hedgerow by Christa A. Bergerson
Queen of Darkness, Heaven and Earth by Frederick
Villa
To Hekate Trimorphis by Lykeia
Calling Across the Nights Invocation by Pax /
Geoffrey Stewart
Daughter of the Night by Bettina Theissen
Lady of Hounds by Amanda Sioux Blake
Devoted to One of the Lady's Hounds by Bronwen
Forbes
Lady of the Hounds by Diotima Sophia
Hekates Bitch: Hecuba and Other Greek Traditions
of Cynanthropy by Phillip A. Bernhardt-House, Ph.D.
Hekate Devotion by Marian Dalton
Dark Moon Light by Christa Bergerson
Prayer to Hecate by Holly Cross
Invocation to Hekate by E. A. Kaufman
Saffron Robed by Diotima Sophia
Dancing Hands by Holly Cross
Hekates Offering by E. A. Kaufman
Windsong by Bettina Theissen
Serving Her by Allyson Szabo
On the Modern Worship and Understanding of Hekate
by Lykeia
Hekate by Hearthstone
Oblation by Holly Cross
My Journey With Hekate by Krysta S. Roy
Apology to Hekate by Jennifer Lawrence
On the Edge by Jeremy J. Baer
Finding Hecate Where Three Roads Meet by Pax /
Geoffrey Stewart
Hekate Soteira by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus
Hekate, Briefly in a Dream by Renee Rhodes
Long Beach, Hekate by Todd Jackson
Hekate at Lagina and atalhyk by Tim Ward
The Dark Mother by Dee Estera Fisher
Fourth of July Torchbearer by Krysta S. Roy
Night-Time Prayer to Hekate Antaia by Antonella
Vigliarolo
Hekate Found by Scott B. Wilson
My First Time by Holly Cross
Hekates Devotion by Shay Morgan
Hekates Deipna and Other Devotional Acts by Venus
Clark
To Hecate by Hearthstone
A Prayer to Hekate by Kenn Payne
To Hekate by Emily Carding
Celebrating the Deipnon by Cara Schulz
Charge of the Dark Queen by Frater Eleuthereus
Aoros by Rebecca Buchanan
Contradiction in Terms by Allyson Szabo
Hecate by Vicki Scotti
Daily Prayer for Guidance by Krysta S. Roy
Seasons of the Witch: Hecate and the Wheel of the
Year by Leni Hester
Pale Hekate by Jacinta Cross
Flower of Fire: Hekate in the Chaldean Oracles by
Edward P. Butler
Prayer to Hekate by Rebecca Buchanan
Trivia by Sannion
Crossroads by Melia Suez
Hecates Rising by Brian Seachrist & Lori Newlove
Gatekeepers, Way-Clearers, Mediators: Wepwawet
(or Anubis and Hermanubis), Hekate, and Ianus in the
Practices of the Ekklesa Antnoou by P. Sufenas
Virius Lupus
Serpent Hair by Rebecca Buchanan
Hermes and Hekate by Sophie S.
Song for Hecate by Rhiannon Asher
Maternal Hecate by Allyson Szabo
Hymn to Hekate by Lykeia
A Prayer to Hekate by Hearthstone
Daughter of Night by Todd Jackson
Some Epithets and Unfamiliar Terms Explained
Select Bibliography
Some Online Resources
About the Bibliotheca Alexandrina

Dedication

I invoke you, beloved Hekate of the Crossroads and

the Three Ways
Saffron-cloaked Goddess of the Heavens, the
Underworld and the Sea
Tomb-frequenter, mystery-raving with the souls of the
dead
Daughter of Perses, Lover of the Wilderness who
exults among the deer
Nightgoing One, Protectress of dogs, Unconquerable
Queen
Beast-roarer, Dishevelled One of compelling
countenance
Tauropolos, Keyholding Mistress of the whole world
Ruler, Nymph, Mountain-wandering Nurturer of
youth.
Maiden, I beg you to be present at these sacred rites
Ever with a gladsome heart and ever gracious to the
Oxherd.

- Orphic Hymn to Hekate

Now it is the time of night

That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecates team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowd house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Nights Dream,
5.1

Gone are the leaves on the Hecate trees

Shed to the wind till her skeleton claws the sky
I am alone in a forest of memory
Dragging behind me the howl of the winter

Hecate,
Hecate,
Hecate.

- Wendy Rule, Hecate

To you, Hekate, the community gives this book full of

love and beauty.
May it be pleasing to your heart!

Acknowledgments
Many thanks to:
Diotima Sophia, for all her help in the initial stages.
Kate Winter, for making this book as organized and
lovely as it is.
The good folks at Neos Alexandria, without whose
talent and dedication this book would never have
come to be. Ill miss working with you guys!
Introduction

Its a chill November evening as I write these words.

Dead leaves litter the streets, the smell of their decay
perfuming the air. Theres something else in the air as
well, a crispness, a tenseness as the world prepares for
the long, dead winter months that are about to descend
upon us.

This time of year has always felt pregnant with the

spirit of Hekate for me. Her torches are reflected in
the brilliant reds and oranges of the leaves as they fall
one last brilliant display of color before they are
transformed into the mulch that feeds the earth and
the tree that shall be reborn with vibrant greens come
spring. Her kiss is the icy breeze that whips our face,
forcing us to bury our hands in coat pockets as we
walk a little faster, eager for the warmth of our homes.
Her voice is the growl of a hungry dog digging in the
trash for a desperate last meal. If it fails to find it, the
next morning will discover its fragile, forgotten
corpse on the side of the road, food for some other
creature.

Hekate is a strange and powerful goddess, a force of

primal transformation. She is hunger and longing and
dark mystery. She is also beautiful if you have an eye
to see it, and kind in her way though there is no
sentimentality to her kindness. She is willing to help,
but only if youre willing to do your part as well. She
wont coddle, and she cuts through all of our excuses
with a severity that sometimes seems cruel. In truth,
thats usually just the thing we need to jar us out of
our comfortable complacency.

The ancient Greeks recognized this about her. She

was never one of the familiar Olympian deities, but
they gave her an honored place nonetheless, for the
world isnt always a safe, sunlit place. There are
shadows and dangers and things that fit outside of our
expectations. And this is where Hekate can be found
on the outside: in the yard, protecting the home, at the
crossroads with the vagrants, dogs, and ghosts, in the
semi-barbaric lands to the north of Greece where men
are wild and women are witches.

Hekate haunts our dreams and the fertile places of

imagination. She alone of all the gods could travel
easily between the worlds of the dead, the living, and
the divine. And she has come through the centuries to
be with us today. Though a marginal goddess at best
in antiquity, Hekate is one of the most popular
goddesses in the pagan revival going on today. You
will find both Hellenic Recons and Wiccans praying
to her. Thanks to Shakespeare, even people who have
never poured out a libation know her name.

The wide appeal of the goddess is borne out in the

following essays, poems, short stories, and accounts
of personal experiences which fill the pages of this
book. Each of them has a fascinating story to tell and
a personal vision of Hekate which may differ from
person to person. We have allowed each of our
contributors to speak in their own words and describe
the Hekate that they know. Therefore you will find
Hekate as the dark crone and the lovely maiden, as the
guide of souls and protector of the home, as the
mistress of magic and a promoter of fertility in fields
and flocks. All of these are authentic visions of
Hekate, for she is an immense goddess and complex
as they come. Whether or not you see the Hekate you
know reflected in these accounts, one thing that will
hopefully be clear is the great respect and love that we
all have for this goddess. A book like this could not be
produced without that kind of devotion, and thus I am
proud to offer to the venerable goddess the
accumulated offerings of her community. Ie Hekate!

Sannion aka H. Jeremiah Lewis

Eugene, Oregon
3 November, 2009

Editorial Note

Throughout this book you will find the name of the

goddess alternately written as Hekate and Hecate.
Both are acceptable and popular forms. The first is an
attempt to render an accurate transliteration of the
Greek into English, while the second adopts
the Latinized version which was used throughout the
Roman Empire and in Classical circles until fairly
recently. Different authors have different associations
with these spellings, and therefore we have kept them
as originally written in the individual pieces.
Likewise, there are a number of unusual epithets
associated with the goddess. These are explained at
the end of the book.

The Key Bearer

by Michael Routery

I see you on the stairway with a flashlight

Dangling a huge ring of keys, formidable and ancient,
Going down to your locked basement packed with
secrets.
They say your mien was once much more pleasant
(but isnt that true of all?).
Out of peripheral vision
You seem dog-like,
Your head elongating and tripling.
I inhale sharply, enshadowed;
I know to be careful around here:
This building conceals an underworld gate.
So I construct a hekataion on the front steps
And sweep out shed cat-hair,
Dust and pollen early in the mornings.
One day I find a gift of sparkling glass,
Shards artificed into a delicate bracelet
And in the center a heart of green glass glimmers,
A light for my lantern when I descend the staircase
To where the beast growls behind the bars.

Finding My Way to Hekate

by John Drury

May the Goddess be pleased with this story.

My journey to Hekate has not been a simple one, and

the telling of it requires the telling of my own story
first. Readers, I hope, will grant their patience in this
telling.

Years ago, in sixth grade and in a small elementary

school south of the Mason-Dixon line, a kindly and
elderly librarian taught all of the students in that grade
about Greek mythology. I of course took the class as
well, and arrived at the awards ceremony at the end of
the school year eager to see how Id done in the class.
Parents were invited, and my mother attended. As
awards were handed out to the best students, I
received my grade: an F. I came in last in the class.
When I inquired to the librarian, her response was that
I hadnt turned in much work and that some things
are just not meant for certain people. She meant, of
course, that I was obviously not suited to studying
Greek myth.

She was wrong.

In college, I received a Bachelor of Arts with a double

major in History in Political Science, and a minor in
Classical Studies. The history field of study was the
Greeks, from the time of the Minoans through the
Ottoman Empire. Thus, not only was I exposed to
history, but also to the art, mythology, and language
of ancient Greece. Though I had to obtain the last
Greek class after graduation, I did obtain my minor
and am proud of the work that Ive done. I went on to
get an international MBA, and did extensive studies
on my own on Indo-European grammar and
comparative mythology.

Yet, throughout this time, Hekate never appeared to

me or held my interest. In truth, while I could name a
number of gods and goddesses in both the Greek and
Roman pantheon, Hekate was not one of them.

As the years passed I found myself learning of

paganism and, after some years on a pagan forum,
decided to begin studies in witchcraft and general
neo-pagan thought and practice. I found a teacher
and group with a structured study and began
attending. It was then that Hekate first came to my
attention. As a goddess of witches, especially in
modern neo-pagan thought, Hekates importance is
quite strong for many neo-pagan groups and practices.
I received general instruction on how many neo-
pagans invoked, or worked with, Hekate. Still, in our
group, we had a generic god and goddess and did
not emphasize individual deities. Additionally, most
of the work we did was low magick and not usually
associated with deities. It was good material, taught
well, but it provided only a foundation for craft
practices. The next step, the work with and worship
of deity, was left to the individual students to pursue
on their own.
It was at this point that the Greek gods began to assert
themselves in my life. It should come as no surprise
that the Greek gods were the first to make their
presence known. Looking back on it, They were
always there, simply waiting for me to become aware
of Them. Dionysos was the first, He who often is a
gateway deity. The Dioskouroi, for reasons Ive never
really understood, are strong in my personal pantheon.
But it was not until Persephone crept into my
conscious understanding that Hekate appeared. It was
then that I re-read the old myths concerning Demeter
and Persephone, and saw Hekates role in them.
Though she had not called to me directly, I knew that
it was time to begin the process of knowing the
goddess and giving Her the due She deserves.

Many modern neo-pagans begin their studies by

learning of the sabbats and esbats. The first,
involving the eight High Holidays are based on solar
events such as the equinoxes. The esbats, on the other
hand, are times of magick, as they correspond to the
full and dark moons. Hekate, I knew from class, was
often associated with the dark moon and with the
mysteries of magickal practices. Imagine my surprise
when I, again, learnt of her more complex nature. A
goddess of witchcraft emerged as a goddess
associated with childbirth, the dead, crossroads, and a
strong companion of Persephone and Demeter. As
with Nemesis and Tyche, she can bestow fortune
(good or ill) upon humans. In short, her complex
nature and strong chthonic powers came to the fore,
and I found myself hoping to establish some
relationship and cultus with this goddess.

Fortunately, both ancient and modern neo-pagan

practices merge here. For it is the end of the lunar
month, on the dark moon, that Hekates deipnon is
celebrated. It is a time to make offerings, to clean the
house and self of things to be discarded, and give
them to Hekate instead. For some time I had
wondered what to do to celebrate some of the esbats.
The deipnon gives a clear purpose, and a ready-made
avenue to work with Hekate regardless of the path
youre on or where you started. It was thus that I
celebrated my first deipnon in the early Summer of
2009. I prepared a meal of discarded food, and after
creating ritual space I introduced myself to the
goddess and asked for her cleansing powers in the
home in return for the food offerings. It was a
powerful experience, done at night, and walking to the
crossroads with the offering and leaving it there in
silence left a lasting impression.

In my own unverified personal gnosis, I believe that

Persephone leaves the world at Mabon (or the
Autumnal Equinox) and returns at Ostara (the Spring
Equinox). It was thus gratifying in 2009 to see the
dark moon fall within a couple of days of the
Autumnal equinox. Not only did I prepare a small but
full meal for Hekate, I made specific prayers for her to
accompany Persephone on her journey, and to provide
counsel during this time. I also asked that we humans
not be forgotten in these dark times, and that her two
torches lead us when we need them. It was by
torchlight, soon after, that I conducted a ritual
farewell for Persephone and a recitation for the dead.
I asked Hekate to assist, as her purview of the dead
overlaps that of Hermes, Nemesis, and Persephone. I
believe that the deipnons during the Winter months
will be the more powerful ones, and I look forward to
them with enthusiasm.

Hail bright-coiffed Hekate, goddess of magic, of the

dead, of the crossroads. May your torches shine like
beacons, and light the way for those mortals who seek
your counsel and assistance.

Hecate in My Life
by Allyson Szabo

When I was 19, I was living in Vancouver, BC

(Canada) with my Wiccan priest, Davydd, happily
learning how to be a good Wiccan. I enjoyed what I
was learning, and at the time, I think it was the best
thing I could have done. I learned a lot through
Davydds lessons, about myself and about the world
around me. When the time approached for my First
Degree, Davydd suggested a series of meditations
designed to allow me to connect with a matron
goddess, if I had one. While Wicca has its own
deities, it does not deny the existence of others, and
Davydd felt it was important to give me an
opportunity to find out where my allegiances lay. Of
course, I complied.
During my meditations, I kept running into a spiritual
brick wall. I would consistently be taken back to a
single face, a single goddess. I saw her as being
somewhat ageless, not really being maid, mother, or
crone as one would expect in the Wiccan paradigm. I
did not know at first who she was; I knew only that
she scared the bejeezus out of me and I wanted
nothing to do with her. Davydd suggested that I
explore what she had to offer, but I refused outright.

After some time, I learned that it was Hecate who was

appearing to me. This confused me further because I
had always heard Hecate was old, the crone aspect,
and yet this woman was not old in the least. I knew
she was the goddess of witches and that she was a
dark goddess. Because I was neglecting my
homework and ignoring her advances, I really didnt
know much else about her. She was persistent,
though, and would not take no for an answer.

Some days after my First Degree ritual was over, I

was engaging in a series of repetitive meditations that
I practice. I visualized myself as an owl, and I soared
through the night sky, skimming over trees and
through a forest, hunting and searching. Normally,
this meditation was very calming, and ended with the
capture of a fat mouse or vole, and I would end the
meditation before the feast began. Not that day,
though!
The visualization started out as usual. It was a waning
moon, and the sky was quite dim, with only a
scattering of far-off stars and a mere sliver of moon
casting a bit of light. From an owls perspective,
though, it was as bright as day. I had just spied
something moving below me, and focused on it, when
my world was turned upside down.

Suddenly, it was no longer night, and cool, and

relaxing. It was the middle of the day, with a burning
sun beating on my feathers. The wind was all
different, being dry and hot instead of moist and cool.
I started to panic as I realized that the feathers were
not my feathers, and I had no idea how to steer this
particular body!

I felt myself plummeting, a sensation that has always

bothered me since my early childhood. I couldnt
breathe, and I was flapping for all I was worth. Then
the body reflexes took over, and I was no longer
flapping and diving. I was soaring, and the whole
world spread out below me. A large canyon was what
I was flying over, but I could see for miles, the red,
dry earth stretching away into the curve of the planet
itself. Thats when I heard the whistle, and instinct
took over. I folded those lovely, strong wings, so
different from the owls soft wings, and I dived, down
down down, toward a single point where the sound
had come from. With barely a ruffle of those stiff,
brownish red feathers, I settled onto the arm of the
woman I had so fervently been trying to avoid.
To my extreme embarrassment, she hooded me,
blinded me with a leather cap, and then fed me. She
made the soothing sounds that one makes to a strong
and well behaved pet. I found myself preening,
leaning into her finger strokes, happy to be where I
was. It was then that I realized I would never be free
of this very strong goddess, and that I would always
be her creature. That was in 1991, I believe, and Ive
been her creature ever since.

Over the years, I have learned a lot more about the

goddess who has taken me as her servant. While she
does have her scary moments, and at rare moments
has appeared to me in an older guise, she is usually
very timeless in her appearance. For me, she often
arrives in robes that are dark yellow or red in color,
which I later learned were her usual colors. She is
sometimes called the saffron-robed goddess in the
traditional poems. She has her connections with magic
and witches, both ancient and modern. Her worship
was often performed at a crossroads, where three
roads came together. She has much to do with death
and pain, and other things that the Olympic gods have
no interest in.

Hecate is originally a Thracian goddess, not a Greek

one. There is quite a bit of evidence to support the
idea that she was worshipped in a similar way to
Hestia, being a goddess of hearth and home. When
she joined the Olympic gods, she lost much of her
home connections. However, many homes still had
small altars or shrines to her at their front door, and
offerings were left to her there every month at the new
moon. New moon offerings of food were also left at
crossroads, well into the modern historical era. She is
often depicted with hunting hounds, and with hawks
and owls. There are mythological connections
between Hecate and Artemis, strangely enough. And
Hecate maintains her position as protector of the
pregnant woman, and of newborn children. Even Zeus
himself was said to have gone to her for advice.

My own experiences with Hecate have been wide and

varied. I have memories of being quite young, around
7 or 8 years old, and being embraced by a female
deity who I simply thought of as god at the time,
but who I now believe was Hecate. She has been a
constant in my life, always with me through the
various changes and moves that I have made. Through
her graces, I have been present at two deaths, where I
gently directed the souls of the departed onward, and
it is something that I consider very important. I seem
often to have tasks to do that deal with death and
grief, and it doesnt seem to bother me as much as it
does others.

I am pleased to be a priestess of Hecate. I have always

felt very close to her, and she has been a vital part of
my life. It was her involvement in my life that I
believe short circuited my fluffy phase, something
that happens to a lot of Wiccans early on. I never held
the belief that everything was light and wonderful,
and I have always embraced the dark that comes along
with and enhances the light.
She Meets Me at the Crossroads and Shows Me the
Way
by Krysta S. Roy

In dewy mists of darkest night

On the plain of dreams I roam
Answering the call of victorious Sleep
Who fought my insomnia and won.
Tears streaming down my cheeks
I come to a tree with twisted limbs
Where a spider spins her silken web
Shimmering in the dim star light.
Incomplete, unfinished, not yet set in place
Much like my own destiny.
The story is not finished, not over
There is still more to be done.
But I do not see it, do not realize
And so I pass it by.

I come to a hill on which a black dog sits

Howling at a pale crescent Moon
The wailing echoing my broken heart
Mourning and tortured, shattered
Screaming to the heavens
I cannot take much more.
In the distance the dog hears an answering song
Another voice reaching out into the night.
Comforted that he is not alone
He moves towards its source.
But I do not see it, do not realize
And again I pass it by.

I come to a bed set upon the clouds

A full Moon shining high above.
I fall upon it weeping
And curl myself in a ball.
A snake twists itself at the edge of the mattress
Into the shape of infinity.
This pain is not all there is
There can still be so much more.
But I do not see it, do not realize
I turn my head, avert my eyes
Surrendering to my pain
Gathering the broken shards of my soul around me.
And then the snake coils, its patience spent
And strikes, biting into my flesh.
The venom flows like fire through my veins...
And then I finally see
Then I finally realize.
She stands before me in indigo robes
The stars themselves adorn her
And with her torches held high
She illuminates the darkness.
My bed sits in the center of the crossroads
I turn and see the road Ive walked behind.
She stretches her arms open wide
And nods her head towards each fiery torch.

Then I see in the blazing fire light

Two roads ahead I had not seen before.
You were meant to do more than this, she says
Her gaze now meeting mine
Will you let this beat you and keep you down?
Or will you trust in me and rise?
She places her torches in the bedposts
And reaches her hands out to me
In a silent challenge I cannot refuse.
I put my hands in hers
Trembling, shaking, terrified
As she pulls me to my feet.

Fear is not a weakness, she says

But courage is moving forward through it
Moving forward despite it.
If you will walk, I will be beside you.
I take the first stumbling step forward
And choose a new path to walk
The edge of the road glimmering
Like stardust in her torchlight.
My heart pounds like a frantic drum
As I step into the mists
Her hand still holding mine
And when I wake, the tears have dried.

A Triad for Hekate

by Rebecca Buchanan

I.Thrice-Beautiful

Deep is my delight
Great is my dread
For I have seen Your face
Thrice-Beautiful Hekate

II.Terrible Hekate

I am Terrible Hekate
I walk dark moon nights
I speak for the dead
Hear their voices.

III. Thracian

Thrice-Great Goddess
Graced with the head of
dog
and horse
and triple-tongued serpent
Who travels with the moon tides
Collecting offerings at the crossroads
sweet honey
and black lambs
and newborn puppies
Who grants or withholds at your whim
the blessings of sea
and sky
and earth
Thracian
Thrice-Great Goddess
Grant me a boon!

Who is Hekate?
by Amanda Sioux Blake
If one were to ask who the most popular Goddess in
the broad spectrum of modern Paganism was, Hekate
would certainly be a prominent contender, if not the
ultimate winner. Yet there are as many different
conceptions of this Goddess as there are worshipers.
Wiccans may tell you that She is a Crone Goddess,
part of the Grecian Triple Goddess, with Artemis as
Maiden/waxing moon, Selene as Mother/full moon,
and Hekate as Crone/waning and dark moon.
Yet this image varies greatly from that of ancient
Greece. Although Hekate is often pictured in triplicate
form, She is not a Triple Goddess. She was not seen
as a Crone, either, but as a comely young woman who
presided over the crossroads, particularly wherever
three roads meet. Some even maintained that Hekate
was a virgin Goddess,1 although others believed that
She was the mother of the sea-monster Skylla,2 and
others the mother of the famous witches Medea and
Kirke.3 Hekate is a Goddess of magic, wisdom, the
night, ghosts and the Underworld all things Wiccans
associate with the Crone aspect of their Goddess, so
the confusion is understandable. Similarly Selene is
not a Mother Goddess. She is a Goddess who happens
to be a mother, but She is not a Mother. That is, She
does not fulfill the role of Mother Goddess to
humanity. This does not mean that either of these
Goddesses do not currently manifest as such to their
Wiccan followers, merely these concepts where not
held in ancient Greece, where these deities were first
worshiped.
Hekate is a diverse Goddess, with many functions.
She is usually the child of the Titans Perses and
Asteria,4 or Perses and Persaios.5 However, another
text mentions Hekate as being a daughter of Nyx,6 the
ancient Goddess of Night whom even Zeus stood in
awe of. Nyx being Hekates mother would most
certainly explain Her power.
But whatever Her parentage, Hekate was one of the
most powerful, respected and sometimes feared
Goddesses of Greece. She alone has a power shared
with Zeus that of granting or withholding from
humanity anything She wishes. While She never
joined the Olympian company, Zeus honored Her
above all other deities (except Nyx) by giving Her a
special place and granting Her dominion over heaven,
earth, and the underworld. According to Hesiod She
became a bestower of wealth and all blessings of
everyday life, and in the human sphere She rules over
the great mysteries of birth, life, and death. A cursory
reading of the Theogony will make it clear that Hesiod
was especially devoted to Hekate. In the middle of his
genealogy of the Gods, he goes on quite a long
tangent discussing the many qualities and blessings of
Hekate, taking on an almost televangelist-like tone.
She is associated with childbirth and prophetic visions
as well. She is a guide of souls into the Underworld, a
complement to the male psychopomp, Hermes. Like
Hermes, She is a boundary Goddess. Many Hellenes
had an image of Her next to the front door of their
home,7 so She would protect the home and stop any
evil influences from entering. She is the Goddess of
the crossroads, where ancient magic typically took
place under cover of night. When in three forms
looking in three directions, She can see the past,
presence and the future. Her sacred animals are the
weasel or polecat8 and dogs,9 especially hunting dogs.
In fact She is often called Lady of Hounds and Nurse
of Puppies, and Nonnus in his Dionysiaca referred to
Hekate as the divine friend of dogs.10 One of Her
greatest symbols are torches, two of which She is
often pictured holding. Hekate carried torches while
She assisted Demeter with the search for Her
kidnapped daughter Persephone, and earned Herself a
place in the Eleusinian Mysteries as the guide of
initiates.
Later traditions make Hekate the daughter of Zeus and
Asteria11 and reduce Her power to only that of the
Underworld, childbirth and the waning to dark moon.
By Roman times She became chiefly understood as
the Goddess of the dark moon, crossroads, witchcraft
and ghosts.

Because Her nature was originally that of a

mysterious and somewhat unknowable deity, more
prominence was given in classical times to Her
gloomy or appalling aspects. The classical Greeks
emphasized Hekates destructive powers at the
expense of Her creative one, until at last She was
invoked only as Goddess of the netherworld and
secret rites of black magic and necromancy, especially
in places where three roads met in the darkness of
night.
The Greeks image of Hekate may have been
influenced by the Egyptian Goddess Heqit or Heket.
Heqit is pictured as a frog-headed woman, and was
believed to be the midwife who assisted with the daily
birth of the Sun. She is a Goddess of creation and
germination of seeds into plants. In Her connection to
childbirth we see where Her sphere and that of Hekate
intersects. Frogs are sometimes considered a symbol
of Hekate as well. Another intriguing connection to
Egypt is the Egyptian concept of Heka, roughly
translated as magic.
Although many deities of both Greek and Egyptian
origin were invoked in ancient spells and curses, the
two Gods most often associated with magic in the
Greek mind were Hermes and Hekate.12 Hekate is a
very complex Goddess, much more than just a
Goddess of magic, but by Roman times Her magical
aspects had swallowed up the other sides to Her, and
She became the witches Goddess that we know today.
Hermes Trismegestos, the Thrice-Greatest, evolved
to become a God of alchemy during the Renaissance.
It is appropriate that Hermes and Hekate have a close
relationship. Its said that an Underworld Goddess by
the name of Brimo gave Her virginity to Hermes,
sleeping with Him on the banks of the Lake Boibeis in
Thessaly,13 an area known in classical times for its
high concentration of witches and magic. Brimo,
meaning Angry or Terrifying, was an epithet of
Hekate. It was also a title of both Demeter and
Persephone. In this case Demeter is an unlikely
interpretation. Persephone would perhaps have been
justifiable, if the text in question had not said that this
Brimo had been a virgin when She lay with Hermes.
So these two Deities most often associated with magic
come to have an intimate relationship.

In Greece, Hekate was a pre-Olympic Goddess,

possibly a native of Thrake, in the northeast part of
the country. Unlike many other primordial deities,
Hekate was absorbed into the classical Greek
pantheon. And when the Romans absorbed Hekate
into their pantheon along with the other Greek Gods,
they did not even change Her name, merely Latinizing
the spelling to Hecate.

Hekate is one of those deities who greatly intrigued

me from a young age, but with whom I have had little
contact. When I first began worshiping Pagan Gods,
Artemis, Athena and Hekate were the deities who
drew me the most. I appealed to Hekate mostly as
Goddess of magic and divination. While I no longer
practice magic, I still appeal to the Gods on occasion
for divination through Tarot, astrology, and a few
private forms I created myself. I am not a devotee of
Hekate, and I have not had a major experience of Her
quite some time. Still, I look on my memories of Her
with fondness.

She is a fierce and independent Goddess. Although

not a virgin like Artemis, with whom She is often
associated, Hekate is wild and free. At a time in my
life when I was overly worried about the opinions of
my peers, Hekate forced me to work on myself. She
didnt care what others thought of me, and was very
insistent that I should not either. Hekate can be very
harsh at times, but She is never harsh without reason.
She teaches us some hard but necessary lessons.
Everything that is broken, lost or discarded belongs to
Her. She takes the broken soul to Her, and forges it
into something stronger, something better. She
demands strength, She demands sacrifice. And the
rewards, if you live up to Her expectations, are
beyond imagining. After being tested by this Goddess,
you will emerge stronger, more confidant, trusting in
your own strengths and intuition. You will have a new
steel in your soul, and Hekate will sit back and nod
approvingly while you take on the world, completely
on your own.
1) Apollonius Rhodius 3.840, Lycophron 1174
2)Apollonius Rhodius 4.827
3) Diodorus Siculus 4.45.1
4) Hesiod. Theogony 404 , Apollodorus 1.8
5) Homeric Hymn 2 to Demeter. 24, Apollonius
Rhodius. 3.1036, Diodorus Siculus. 4.45.1, Ovid.
Metamorphoses 7.74, Seneca. Medea 812
6) Greek Lyric IV Bacchylides, Frag 1B, Scholiast on
Apollonius Rhodius. 3.467
7) Aristophanes. Wasps 804 ff, Euripides. Medea 396
ff, Aeschylus, Fragment 216 (from Scholiast on
Theocritus, Idyll 2. 36)
8) Antoninus Liberalis. Metamorphoses 29, Aelian.
On Animals 15.11
9) Apollonius Rhodius. Argonautica 3.1194,
Lycophron. Alexandra 1174 , Ovid. Metamorphoses
10.403 , Virgil. Aeneid 6.257, Nonnus. Dionysiaca
44.198, Valerius Flaccus. Argonautica 6.110
10) Nonnus. Dionysiaca 3.61
11) Scholiast on Apollonius Rhodius 3.467 ap
Musaeus
12) Diodorus Siculus. Library of History 4.45.1, Ovid.
Metamorphoses 6.139, Seneca. Medea 570
13) Propertius. Elegies 2.29C

Shaking the Bones

by Melitta Benu

You shake my bones.

Your names drip from my tongue like honey:

Prytania, Invincible Queen.

Khthonia, dark like the deep earth.
Brimo, your wrath like the rolling thunder.

In the silence of my secret self,

I reach for you
Womb of the World
Who cycles our souls,
Resurrected,
Renewed.

Theurgist, Witch Queen, Night Walker

You dance among the dead
Like a yew wet with falling rain,
Like a charmed serpent,
Like a festival fire brand
Cutting a path through the dark.

You shake my bones.

Your names drip from my tongue like blood:

Antania, our enemy,

Soteira, our savior,
Aidonaia, secret bride of Hades.

In the mania of my darkest self,

I reach for you-

Luminary of katabasis:
Mad Alchemist, Arcane Priestess
The only one who knows the way
Home.

You are the poison which cures,

The pain which purifies,
The light that wanes and returns:
Anassa eneroi, a mystery concealed

And revealed in your own time.

You shake my bones.

Your names drip from my tongue like honey:

Megiste, Majestic and Mighty,
Atalos with a tender heart,
Beloved. Beloved. Beloved.

To Hekate
by Corbin

She stands at the crossroads under the cowl

Of the sky with goblets in all her claws.
Wind flutters her cloak, obscuring the moon,
Revealing the Book of the Laws.

Ruby wine beckons but I dare not drink

In the night with her eyes like coins of gold
Watching and her silence as ominous
And deep as the sea is old.

O seedless vision, Daughter of the Gates

Of Time, is your offer enlightenment,
Your gift illumination or demise?
Which brings the best contentment?

Kind Dark Mother, I will decline all cups,

Slip away, head bowed as in reflection.
Let me walk a bit longer in the air,
Goddess, but which direction?

Devotional Prayer to Hekate

by Antonella Vigliarolo
Dark Queen who walks among graves,
Saffron-clad, flanked by hounds and revered by
ghosts,
Virginal siren who dances in between thunder and
lighting, mantled by rain,
Coal-eyed Mistress of All Mysteries,
Wild and kind,
Fierce and wise,
Yours is the hand that severs the chord in our last
hour
And ties the knot once more when we are reborn.
Yours is the torch revealing our minds demons,
Cracking our masks beyond repair.
You are the ageless chant of mystical ecstasy,
The light and that same lights shadow.
You are the ardent gaze that delves into those subtle
distances of other times, other places, other selves.
Most ancient maiden who mirrors in the Crone,
Darkest face of the Muse,
Midwife Divine,
Hekate Trivia,
Hekate Enodia,
Hekate Soteira,
Hekate Prytania,
Hekate Phosphoros,
Hekate Kleidophorous,
I honor You.

Hekate, the Dark Goddess

by Diotima Sophia
Hekate, Cerridwyn, dark mother take us in, Hekate,
Cerridwyn, let us be reborn - Hekate, Cerridwyn,
Inkubus Sukkubus

So begins the simple chant on the Wild album: first

with a single voice, then with others added in obvious
but still pleasing harmonies. The song is evocative, in
most senses of the word. But, listening to it, I was
moved to muse is it accurate, at least in terms of
what we know of what the Greeks thought about the
goddess of the crossroads? The follow on question, of
course, is whether or not such accuracy matters?

Hekate is one of those goddesses who has been

adopted by many in the Neo-Pagan movement;
generally as a dark goddess, redolent of death, evil,
and the underworld. How accurate is this, for one
described as bright coiffed? As she is described as
maiden, can she really be a (or our) mother, of
whatever hue? And, perhaps more importantly, does it
matter if its accurate to what the ancient Greeks
thought, if its what is thought by people now?1

The first question might seem straightforward: how

did the Greeks view Hekate? We know she was
highly honoured by Zeus, but what else can we say
with any certainty at all? Unfortunately, as anyone
who has ever really delved into the fascinating and
frustrating study that is Greek mythology will know,
things are rarely straightforward.
Hekate is no exception to this lack of clarity. By this I
do not mean that the Greeks were unclear about her,
but rather, that we are unclear about what they,
themselves believed, where, and when. Partially, this
is a function of not being a people of the book
having one, central tome but rather being a people
of many books (and poems and hymns and tablets and
plays and stories and.). But mainly, its a function
of the fact that the Greeks didnt feel any need to
come to a straightforward conclusion about who and
what Hekate was, as they didnt see the point in trying
to pin down even something as obvious as a human
person, much less something as ephemeral as an old,
old god.2

And Hekate is old in the sense that she clearly

predates the Olympians. She is a Titan, daughter of
Titans. She is given her portion of the earth, sea and
sky by the leader of the Olympians, Zeus or to be
more exact about it, she is allowed to keep what is
already hers which points again to her antiquity as a
god.

In the chant mentioned above, Hekate is reckoned to

be a dark mother. And indeed, at times she is
recorded as being a mother (if not dark), as being the
parent of the sea monster Skylla, who so frightened
the Argonauts, or even of Kirke3 (Circe) and Medea
(which, considering the fairly constant relation given
between Hekate and witchcraft or magic, makes a
good deal of sense). Certainly Medea counts herself
as one of Hekates priestesses, and sees Hekate as her
goddess.

Unfortunately, even one of the same authors seems to

fluctuate on this point, calling her maiden in
another passage; and she is also called maiden in
another source. The simple explanation, of course, is
that these references are made to her before her
marriage, (which may have been to Hermes or to
Aeetes).

To confuse matters even more for modern readers,

Hekate is sometimes associated with other deities,
such as Artemis (who is at times called Hekate or
Diana or Athena). At least these associations lend
weight to the idea that she may have been a virgin
goddess, as do the representations in which she wears
the maidens short chiton rather than a matrons
longer gown. So she is seen as both maiden and
mother. Any suggestion of the threefold maiden,
mother, crone triplet, however, should be negated at
this point: while there are numerous triple gods or
gods with three (or more often many, many more)
versions or types in Greek mythology, Hekate
certainly does not present anywhere as the tripartite
maiden-mother-crone.

But what of the dark goddess image?

And does it matter?

Certainly Hekate is associated with darkness and the
night, and the dead...eventually. It is possible that
these associations only grew with time, as Marquardt
suggests; the early mentions of her have no chthonic
overtones, while by the end of the fifth century BC, in
Euripides, they are certainly there .

Chthonic deities from the Greek word meaning

earth were those associated with the earth, with
the dark, with the underworld. For some deities, the
chthonic version of themselves is obvious and well
known: Hades, for instance, the ruler of the
underworld; Kore (Persephone), who spends half of
the year underground is another example. However, a
dark side could be found to most of the well known
gods Hermes is the select messenger to Hades,
designated as such by his own father, Zeus, and often
functions as a psychopomp (guide of the dead) while
Hermes father Zeus also received chthonic sacrifices.
Dionysus, best known today for his love of wine and
revelry, has a chthonic side, as being associated with
that-which-comes-from-the-ground in spring. The
connection between these gods is not involvement in
dark workings, such as curses or blood work, but
rather their association with the agricultural cycle.
They are dark because the earth and what lies
under it are dark. Chthonic and dark should not
be interpreted as being in any way equated to some
simplistic delineation between good and evil, for
a number of reasons.
The first is that the Greeks were far more
sophisticated than to make such a distinction of deities
with whom they felt they interacted on a fairly
frequent basis: if individual people are rarely all good
or all evil, why should gods be any different? (The
concept of a god as being the best of everything,
some sort of superlative human, is not a Greek one).

Secondly, the Greek gods were not moral agents

they were neither bound by human morals nor were
they particularly interested in whether humans felt
bound by them, either. Certainly, some of the gods
were interested in particular mortals (often as not, as
mates, whether willing or no), or in human families.
And certain crimes were likely to annoy some of the
gods (especially ignoring the proper sacrifices, or
crimes against family). But for the most part, the gods
let humans get on with things and didnt get all that
concerned about them and certainly dont appear to
have worried about fitting in with moral codes. (And,
when you think about it, it is a pretty conceit to think
that our ways of understanding how things should be
done might apply to those who are more than
human.).

Finally, the Greeks didnt make that kind of dark-bad

(sinister, illicit), light/good (licit, allowed) bifurcation
of either their gods or, come to that, their own magic.
Yes, there are sacrifices to chthonic gods, which are
rather different from those to the Olympians the
chthonic ones tended to take place at night, to involve
rather more blood, black or dark sacrificial animals,
and often the entire animal was offered to the god as a
burnt offering (holocaust) rather than merely the thigh
and a bit of fat (as per Olympian sacrifices). What is
absent, however, is a sense that there was something
wrong, or furtive about such offerings they were
merely for a different purpose. There are curse tablets
(which are fairly dark by modern standards)
addressed to a very wide range of deities, indeed not
merely the dark ones.

Nor was magic (with or without its attendant and

modern k) something seen as dark or menacing in
and of itself. Yes, magic tended to be seen as
something that was rather exotic and slightly foreign
(hence Mithras typical Persian cap and the idea
that witches come from Thessaly4); but ordinary
citizens were very likely indeed to carry amulets,
carry out rites, invoke and sacrifice for their own ends
as well as for the ends of simple worship. So although
Hekate was renowned for her use of magic, this alone
would not have made her a dark god.

Hekates powers over the earth, which are said to be

wide-ranging, have to do almost entirely with
inhabited earth (men, fish, animals, cf. the young dogs
presented to her at crossroads) rather than with grain,
which was the province of Demeter yet one would
expect the cultivation of grain to be important to a
chthonic deity, the corn comes from the dead, after
all any society dependent on cultivation realises the
importance of what is in and under the earth . This
merely highlights the fine differentiations made by the
Greeks in relation to their own relationships with the
divine.

But she is also presented as almost a saviour of

humanity. Hesiod (the earliest to mention her at any
length) places her in counterpoint to Prometheus,
whose works are responsible for our separation from
the gods. Propitiation of Hekate, however, can bring
us some measure of comfort here in our earth-
bound existence. She is involved directly and
intimately in human lives, in general presented as
being benevolent but certainly capable of punishment
and withholding favour as well as granting it.

This involvement continues when she takes women

who have been transformed into animals as her
familiars or companions: Galinthias, Gale and Hekabe
become a weasel, pole cat and black dog, respectively,
serving Hekate.

Her connection to the dark and the night is

unquestionably ancient. And her association with the
dead, that is, with those who are dead, ghosts, is well
also well attested; Virgils journey into the
underworld begins with a sacrifice to her. But perhaps
we owe most of our view of Hekate as the mistress of
magic and witchcraft to Ovid, who depicts her as just
as willing to hunt humans as beasts, as the discoverer
of poisons (including aconite), and as demanding
human sacrifice. Truly a dark, brooding goddess...but
(and here, I suspect, we find the reason for the interest
in her) one of great power, and able to dispense that
power to her devotees, even as the Theogony
maintains.

Yet we are still left with a chant that has an

incongruous part to it, let us be reborn. There is
little, if anything, in the ancient conception of or cult
to Hekate that leads to any suggestion of rebirth or
resurrection in general, the Greek dead stay dead.
(Indeed, the differentiation between the gods and the
dead is one of the very marked aspects of Greek
religion). While its possible that the mystery cults
offered some measure of hope for rebirth in some
form, these were the exception rather than the rule.
Does such an imposition matter, though?

While the Greeks might not have understood the

concept of rebirth in this way, we certainly do, and it
makes sense to the modern mind to connect death and
rebirth (in a way that might not have made sense to
the Greeks, particularly those not involved in mystery
cults).

Do we do damage to the lore, to the myth of Hekate,

the goddess of the crossroads, when we impress upon
it (or, perhaps, upon her) modern ideas such as rebirth
from death, or the triple goddess? (There are indeed
depictions of Hekate as having three faces or indeed
three bodies but these are not in the mode of
maiden, mother and crone though one might be
forgiven for not realising that, reading some texts and
websites).
Yes, if we represent our interpretations as valid for the
originators of the lore: if we present Athenian views
of Hekate as being maiden, mother and crone, we are
certainly playing fast and free with the sources; the
same holds true if we interpret her actions in favour of
humanity in the Theogony as somehow being of the
same ilk as those who would raise the dead to life (an
action which after all earned Zeus rather great
displeasure when Asclepius attempted it).

If we say, rather, that this is what this goddess

represents to us, that seems to me to be a very
different matter. Yes, it is a change from the
original, but then Euripides portrayal of the
goddess is certainly different from some of what
preceded it, yet we accept his work as source material
(or at least, I have done so in this article). It would
seem that views of the divine change and grow (one is
tempted to add mature, but that seems to court the
charge of hubris who are we to say that we
understand the gods better now than our forebears?).
If we take what we know of Hekate from the lore
that she is powerful and defended as such by the ruler
of the gods; that she is associated with the night, the
dark; with magic, witchcraft and black dogs and add
that to our current conceptions of life (in this case, the
conception in the song that death is not the end of
life), surely we merely continue the process which
had been going on for centuries by the time Euripides
picked up his pen?
1
Does it matter, moreover, what Hekate might make
of it? Or how she and Cerridwen feel being so yoked
together? This question, while important, is not the
focus of this particular article, being better served by
other means...
2
I see no need to use the diminutive term, goddess
yes, Hekate is female but shes still a god.
3
This may point to yet another connection with
Hermes, for it is the messenger god who gives
Odysseus the herb (mole) that allows the adventurer
to resist the magic of Kirke
4
Yes, this is why Gaimans witch is called Thessaly
in The Sandman we are told, after all, that this is
not her real name.

Ashes for Hekate

by Amanda Sioux Blake

Pieces of a life
Ashes of a home
On the breeze
Soot floats away
Tiny curls of nothing
Easily crushed underfoot
Penelopes at the loom
Shredding apart the burial shroud
Under cover of nights gloom
What some would call destruction
Is really an act of creation
As she faithfully awaits Odysseus
As life never springs from a void
Creation must come from destruction
Life come from death
Change is invariably born in moments of pain
Most fear change, and treat Death with disdain

Hekate,
Fearsome Goddess,
Let me never be one to cower in my home
As your hounds bray across the night
Let me forsake the fear that binds my heart
And ride out to meet you at the crossroads
And embrace whatever comes
Lady of Ghosts
Let me meet death
With a smile on my lips
And a song in my heart

Heliotrope Hedgerow
by Christa A. Bergerson

shall we now enter the thorny thicket

the floor of the woods so fully clothed
wicked roses strangling pale picket
how neatly the grass seems to be mowed
behind the heliotrope hedgerow lives
Hekate, a lady who surely knows
the vision of Hermes Trismegistus
and emerald tablets that ghost grass grows
follow her to the other side of time
visit the man with the thousand faces
better hurry to be the first in line
pray that you will be in his good graces
take the key and cross through the clover door
transcend sublunary forevermore

Queen of Darkness, Heaven and Earth

by Frederick Villa

I wear the shadows

The night in my veins
I roam as I please
The keys in my hand
All show me reverence
All cross my path
The cross roads, the torches, all who are born
I am the counsel
By whom decisions are told
I rule the seas, the skies and the earth
Yet the death lands are where I call home
I am the granter of magic
The queen of the ghosts
Necromancers invoke me
With witches Im home
Black dog and polecat
My faithful companions
With them at my side
I rule my dominions
Blind to nothing
All I know
By my graces all mortals
Good fortune shall know
Goddess and titan
That is my blood
All paths I have taken
All roads I have trod

To Hekate Trimorphis
by Lykeia

Hekate I sing of thee, night crowned Trimorphis at the

gate,
Night loving, night dwelling, triple crowned are you.
O thunderous-eyed goddess, red-hooded, red-veiled,
Black is your gown in the underground, you a vein of
light,
Black gowned of the deepest sea, black of the darkest
night.

Phosphoros, a heavenly queen, girt in your immortal

shine,
A torch burning so bright, in the nocturnal grasp of
night.
The stars yield to your yew in their heavenly course,
Mapping out the seasons for the famers seed and
knife,
Good guide of weather-worn sailors on their oceanic
route.
And on your star girded throne you draw the
temptress night,
Hiding well the lovers embrace hand-maiden of
Aphrodite.
To the light the oceans and river sing, moist-limbed
Hekate,
They rush and draw about you as a lover would
caress,
A stir of life resounds within its waves and watery
breast.
The fish of the sea, and the aquatic beasts, do
increase,
Within the net, or revoked, proud fishermans blessed
gain.
You walk upon the water, kissing upon with your
silver light,
And there upon the beach you lay, to Khrysorrhapis
delight.

Companion of Oiopolos, to the fruitful beasts of men

you attend,
Khthonie you arise among the flocks, young arrive to
your embrace,
Sweet lullaby of life over the fields, earths tender
loving song.
And the caverns shake and open wide before your
descending path,
Within your domain lays the riches and wealth
treasured by man,
But to your ghostly-armed embrace, rushes the long
dead race,
The spirited deceased to you come, o divine bright-
coiffed Aidonaia.
Calling Across the Nights Invocation
by Pax / Geoffrey Stewart

Thrice Great Hecate, I call unto you,

Most honored amongst the gods,
Lady of the Earth and Sky and Sea,
Under brightest moon I call across the nights to you,
In the midst of darkest night I call out unto you,
Underneath the sunlit skies I call out to you,
The New Moons Mistress,
Torch bearing, Lady of the Hounds, hear me,
You who is The Queen of Phantoms,
The Place Where Three Roads Meet,
Keeper of the Keys of Creation,
Crossroads Golden Clad Guide,
Guardian of the Gates,
Gorgo, Mormo, Thousand Faced Night,
Come unto us oh Savior,
Come unto us oh Eldest of the Gods,
Who is also the Night Wandering Maiden,
Come unto us,
Attendant of Persephone and Demeter,
Come unto us,
Bless the incense,
Come unto us,
Bless us with your presence!

Daughter of the Night

by Bettina Theissen
They call you noctis filia, daughter of the night,
and indeed in darkness youre at home.
Yet into darkness you are bearing light
and your torch illuminates the way.

They call you Trioditis, Lady of the crossroad,

and on crossroads we do often meet.
Yet not on roads of stone and grass youre found
but in the twisted alleys of our lives.

They call you Kleidouchos who bears the three

worlds keys
and you do reign in heaven, earth and sea.
Yet most important: youre the one who sees
into all hidden secrets, dark and light.

I call you, Hecate, from soul and heart,

Trioditis, key-bearer, daughter of the night,
that your dark wisdom onto me impart
and with your torch illuminate my path.

Lady of Hounds
by Amanda Sioux Blake

Hekate, Lady of Hounds

Dark-haired haunter of the crossroads
Threshold-crosser, Boundary-walker
Protect my home from all evil influences
From those who would wish me harm
And those who would harm me unwittingly
Dark-haired Goddess clad in spidersilk
The wolf and the hound at Your side
The dark of the moon belongs to You
Hekate Triformus
Keeper of Keys and Walker of Ways
Let me partake of the secrets of the night
Let me speak with the animals at Your side
And share in Your khthonic wisdom
Let me return home to sleep in my bed once more,
To teach others of You, fierce Goddess
Let me be of Your world,
Yet remain in mine.

Devoted to One of the Ladys Hounds

by Bronwen Forbes

A baying of hounds was heard through the half-light:

the goddess was coming, Hecate. Virgil, Aeneid
6.257

Once upon a time there was a little beagle who didnt

trust people very much and had never been loved for
who she truly was. One day a Goddess stepped in and
taught her and her owner how to live happily ever
after. This is our story.

My love of beagles started when I adopted Herman

from a local no-kill animal rescue in 2001. Herman
was a red and white beagle/Parson Russell terrier mix
who was my once-in-a-lifetime canine soulmate. I am
a devotee of Herne; Herman was my god-touched
avatar a living representative of my hunting god in a
dogs body. He was my television-watching
companion on the couch after supper and slept with
me spoons-fashion in bed at night. I bought him for
my husband something I am still kidded about;
Herman was all mine and I was all his and it was
obvious to everyone five minutes after I brought him
home.

Five years after I adopted him, Herman was

diagnosed with a genetic disorder that prevented him
from digesting protein. In three weeks the doggy half
of my heart was gone I held him in my arms while
the vet gently completed what a midnight heart attack
(or possibly a massive stroke) started. I honestly did
not know how I was going to go on without Herman.
Ive had and lost other dogs in my life. I miss
them and grieved at their passing, but none of their
deaths affected me as much as Hermans.

In my grief and pain I panicked, and did the worst

possible thing a responsible dog person could do ten
days after Herman died I brought Bridey home.
Brideys job was to fill that Herman-size hole in my
soul and keep me connected to my God. Of course she
failed. Miserably.

Unlike my rescue mutt, Bridey actually has a

pedigree. Her father has won championship titles from
more countries than any other beagle in history, and
Bridey even had a short show career of her own.
Bridey also has a mild case of Musladin-Lueke
Syndrome, also called Chinese Beagle Syndrome,
which is very similar to Downs Syndrome in
humans, complete with a slightly lower than average
cognitive ability. The discovery of this defect is
what ended her show career.

Unfortunately, because she was on the dog show

circuit with different handlers the first two years of
her life, Bridey had no chance to bond to her humans,
or even learn how to express basic affection toward
her people. When we went to pick her up, she was
living in a home with twelve other show beagles. The
dogs were either in crates in the home at night or
kenneled outside in the back yard during the day.
There was absolutely no one-on-one play time or
cuddle time between Bridey and her former owner (an
owner, I should add, who drank several rum and
Cokes while we were there). This may not be normal
for all show dogs, but it was for mine.

In short, the only thing she had in common with

Herman was beagle ancestry.

For about six months, I tried to turn Bridey into a

spiritually connected avatar, like Herman had been. I
tried to get her to cuddle with me on the couch. Shed
get up and move away. I tried to let her sleep with me,
but since she (like the majority of show dogs) wasnt
reliably housebroken, I got tired of cleaning up
messes on my bedroom floor in the middle of the
night and gave up.
I even knew at the time that I was trying to turn one
dog into another, and I couldnt stop myself. And
when Bridey didnt miraculously morph into an
emotional clone of my soulmate dog, I did the
absolute worst thing I could do.

I gave up on her.

Oh, I still fed her and took her to the vet for shots, but
I stopped caring -- which probably reinforced
Brideys pattern of not reaching out to people because
she could sense they didnt love her. There were times
when shed escape from our fenced-in yard and, even
as I was chasing her down, part of me was hoping that
this time shed be lost forever so I could get a dog that
gave a damn about me. Ugly, but true.

My husband would look at me and say, You were

ripped off, and Id agree with him. I was stuck with
this lump of a dog that I didnt particularly care for. I
even seriously considered giving Bridey back to her
previous owner the one with twelve other dogs and
a fondness for massive amounts of alcohol in the
afternoon.

This went on for about a year and a half.

One day after my husband said no to another dog

for the millionth time, I decided to give Bridey
another try, to give our relationship another chance.
There was a bit of I guess Im stuck with her so I
might as well try to make the best of it in my
decision which, again, I am not proud of.

So instead of resenting the fact that she did nothing to

make me happy, I started to think of ways to make
Bridey happy. Who knows, maybe it would work. We
started a routine of nightly walks. Id had a couple
years to refine her house training skills, so I let her
sleep with me again. We worked together on basic
obedience commands. I bought her cow hooves to
chew on (our other dogs get sick if they chew
rawhide).

Finally, I decided to take her with me to a small, dog-

friendly local Pagan gathering, sponsored and
organized by a group dedicated to the Greek Gods
Hekate, primarily. Funny, it had never occurred to me
to take a dog to a Pagan gathering before, but I
decided that this might just be what our relationship
needed: weekend in the woods where wed be
(literally) attached to each other every minute, and
some shared ritual experience where I could ask for
divine help in trying to get through to my dog.

The first night changed our lives forever.

The organizers had planned an oracular ritual, and we

were given a choice between speaking (briefly) with
someone who was divinely possessed by Persephone,
Hermes, or Hekate. Ignorant of Hekates connection
with dogs, I couldnt decide which deity to go to.
Bridey chose for me. This twenty-pound dog literally
dragged me straight to the veiled priestess dressed in
black. I whispered to her attendant, Hekate? and the
attendant nodded. I knelt before the Lady, next to
Bridey, and was wiping away tears before I even
spoke.

I said, There is no connection between our hearts,

and gestured to the two of us. I want a connection.

There was silence for a moment. Then Hekate said, I

love dogs. And this one loves you, but she does not
trust. I will help you heal her, and help her trust you.
I thanked her, and moved aside for the next person. I
went back to the picnic shelter near the field, held my
dog, and cried.

Later on in the weekend, Lisa, the priestess who had

worn the mantle of Hekate, spoke with me at some
length. Not only had she been petitioning her Goddess
on my behalf, shed been observing Bridey and I with
the eyes of an experienced dog person. She watches
you all the time, Lisa said.

She does? Id never noticed.

And when you handed her off to someone so you

could make a sandwich, she was very upset.

She was? This is a dog that Id have sworn didnt

care if I lived or died. Its not like she even once got
off the couch to greet me at the door when I came
home.

What Lisa had gotten from Hekate after the oracular

rite was that Brideys intelligence wasnt the problem;
being passed around from handler to handler,
traveling from show to show, and having little if any
one-on-one quality time with her person was the
problem. Some show dogs thrive on all the go, go,
go. Mine shut down emotionally and it took a
Goddess to point it out to me. Just as I had to teach
my show dog how to sit on cue (show dogs are
deliberately taught not to sit, because to sit at the
wrong time in the show ring can disqualify them) and
pee outside, I also needed to teach her how to trust
me.

I was so ashamed when I heard that; I hadnt done

such a good job of that last item over the past two
years.

I wish I could say that Bridey and I were fully bonded

by the time the gathering was over, but I cant. Were
closer to it now, but weve got a way to go yet. She
greets me at the door when I come home; sometimes
she even wags her tail. She sits with me in the big
comfy chair while I watch television, and snores on
my bed when Im on the bedroom computer.

I did not see what I was doing to my dog until Hekate

and her priestess pointed it out to me. I love Bridey
now, and I wouldnt give her up for anything. She is
not my soulmate, nor is she a living avatar of my
chosen deity. But thanks to Hekates intervention,
Bridey has the most honorable and sacred duty any
dog can have, and she performs it well: she is my
companion.

Hekate is not my patron Goddess, but She seems to

continue to have a vested interest in my little beagle. I
am honored to have the opportunity to care for one of
the Ladys hounds.

Lady of the Hounds

by Diotima Sophia

Lady of the hounds

Hekate
Lady of the moon
The dark
The dead
Lady of magic
And witches
And poison
High honoured lady
Attended by hounds

Hekate of the crossroads

Guard my coming and going
Guard my myth and my magic
Lady of the hounds
Guard my night and my dying.
(Originally published in Dancing God)

Hekates Bitch: Hecuba and Other Greek

Traditions of Cynanthropy
by Phillip A. Bernhardt-House, Ph.D.

Ancient Greek tradition has given the rest of the

world the term lycanthropy, which is to say, the
phenomenon of humans turning into wolves.1 There
are a number of stories of lycanthropy in ancient
Greek and Roman sources,2 often associated with the
region of Arkadia and Mt. Lykaion, with the gods
Apollon Lykeios or Zeus Lykeios, and with the
legendary characters King Lykaion,3 as well as
Apollon himself4 and his mother Leto.5 However, an
analogous type of therioanthropy (human-animal
transformation) occurs in the form of cynanthropy, or
human-dog transformation. The two conditions
were linked in a medical treatise of the second century
by Marcellus of Side, who considered them
synonymous, and prescribed very gentle treatment to
those afflicted with this form of madness.6 However,
myth is not so limited when it comes to considering
the possibility of human-canid transformation, and is
nowhere near as reticent to have this occur in absence
of scientific and metaphysical etiologies (like
madness, demonic possession or illusion, etc.) for
how it can occur.

The existence of cynanthropy, however, in Greek

texts is far less frequent than lycanthropy. There are a
limited number of instances in which Apollon was
said to have transformed into a puppy to pursue the
daughter of Antenor, the result of which was the birth
of Telmissos and the city and people of that name;7
and there is also a similar but very minor incident
from Lycophrons Alexandra and the glosses on
Vergils Aeneid by Servius which indicate that the
river god Crimissus also assumed a canine (or ursine)
form to pursue Segesta (or Egesta), the Trojan
daughter of Phaenodamas, who in exile on Sicily
encountered the river god and duly bore Acestes
(Aegestus, Egestus), for whom Egesta in Sicily was
named.8 And, in Aristophanes Frogs, Xanthias
reports to Dionysos that the spectral Empusa assumes
many forms, among them that of a dog.9 The majority
of cynanthropic traditions in Greek and Roman
literature, however, are essentially limited to two
primary examples, both of which have some relation
to the goddess Hekate.10 The first is the story of
Hekabe (or, in the Latin version of her name,
Hecuba), the wife of King Priam of Troy, who was
said to have been turned into a dog after the death of
the last of her children. The second is the so-called
Wife of Ephesus tale, known only in one fragment
from Kallimakhos. These two sets of tales will be
examined here, but before doing so, it would be worth
looking at some of the further canine associations of
the goddess Hekate.11

The epiphany of the goddess Hekate is often

associated with dogs in a number of Greek sources,
including the poetry of Theocritus (Pharmaceutriae)12
and Apollonius of Rhodes Argonautika (3.1040,
1216-1218).13 Lukian of Samosatas Philopseudes
provides two particularly rich examples of this, with
Hekate appearing in one instance with gigantic
hounds the size of elephants and appearing as a
gigantic, gorgon-like figure herself but being unable
to assail the witness to her epiphany because of his
possession of a magic ring in one instance,14 and
another appearance from beneath the earth with
Cerberus, which included her changing shape from
woman to ox, and then puppy,15 the latter a
noteworthy instance of divine cynanthropy in itself.
She is also associated with canine or cynocephalic
(dog-headed) forms in a number of the spell formulae
from the Greek Magical Papyri, often in a tricephalic
form with one human head, one goat or cow, and one
hound.16 The chthonic associations of Hekate and her
own hounds (as well as other better-known hounds of
that type, e.g. Cerberus) seems to be present in her
appearances in the late second-century C.E. Chaldean
Oracles,17 including the implication that she is the
driver of dogs of the air, earth, and water,18 which fits
with her Hesiodic praises as having dominion over
those realms.19 Hekate is also called divine friend of
hounds in Nonnos Dionysiaca (3.74-75),20 and in
the Orphic Hymn dedicated to her, she is also praised
as hound-loving, and is connected to the three
realms.21 Hekates persistent general association with
dogs, particularly with chthonic dogs, and with both
cynanthropy in herself and cynocephalic forms,
therefore, makes it all the more appropriate that the
two complexes of Greek cynanthropic myths to be
dealt with here are intimately connected to her.

It has been suggested by Walter Burkert that Hekabe

(the Greek form of the name more commonly
recognized in its Latin form, Hecuba) is related to the
goddess Hekate simply due to a similarity in their
names.22 However, almost from her first literary
appearance in Homers Iliad, her role as wife of Priam
and queen of Troy, brought low in grief and disaster
after the ruin of her city, is established firmly; but the
particularities of her later development as a
cynanthropic figure seems to be foreshadowed as
well. In part of her lament speech before the body of
Hector is recovered in book 24, she says, In this way
for him did restless Fate spin with her thread at his
birth, when I myself bore him, that he should glut
swift-footed dogs far from his parents, in the power of
a violent man, in whose inmost heart I wish I could
fix my teeth and feed on it; then might deeds of
requital be done for my son (24.209-214).23 This
bloodthirsty wish for vengeance, expressed in canid
terms after speaking of her son being devoured by
hounds, is realized literally in a number of later Greek
and Latin literary works, the most famous of which is
Euripides play, Hekabe.24 The tragedy consists of the
queens fortunes after the end of the Trojan War, in
which she learns that her son Polydorus, Priams
youngest son who was sent to live with King
Polymestor for his protection, was killed by his host;
she avenges herself upon Polymestor by tricking him,
blinding him, and killing his own children with the
assistance of serving-maids, who are said to be like
hounds. In the end, it is prophesied by Polymestor
that she would turn into a hound herself for her
inhumanity, then fall from a mast-head, and her grave,
the Cynossema, would forever after be a mark for
navigation by sailors.25 Further fragments of
Euripides seem to attest to this same story, including
one which says Dog you shall be, pet of bright
Hekate,26 which occurs in Plutarchs On Isis and
Osiris 379 E.27 A further fragment of Aristophanes
likewise connects the two, saying that Hekabe
becomes a dog by the statue of Hekate Phosphoros.28

Further, Lycophrons Alexandra 1174-1178, has a

prophecy of Cassandra about her mother Hekabe,
which runs as follows:

Oh mother, O unhappy mother! thy fame, too,

shall not be unknown, but the maiden daughter
of Perseus, Triform Brimo [i.e. Hekate], shall
make thee her attendant, terrifying with thy
baying in the night all mortals who worship not
with torches the images of the Zerynthian
queen of Strymon [i.e. Hekate], appeasing the
goddess of Pherae with sacrifice. And the
island spur of Pachynus shall hold thine awful
cenotaph, piled by the hands of thy master,
prompted in dreams when thou hast gotten the
rites of death in front of the streams of
Helorus. He shall pour on the shore offerings
for thee, unhappy one, fearing the anger of the
three-necked goddess [i.e. Hekate], for that he
 shall hurl the first stone at thy stoning and
begin the dark sacrifice to Hades.29

This particular tradition differs slightly, with

Odysseus building a cairn for Hekabe in Sicily, after
having stoned her to death; however, the status of
Hekabe as canid attendant of Hekate still remains. In
Ovids Metamorphoses, there is a brief allusion to the
story in XIII.404-407,30 followed by the full tale of
Hecuba as known from Euripides (with insertions
from other sources and a few side stories), with her
final canine transformation taking place at XIII.533-
575.31 Two short poems in the Greek Anthology
allude to Hecuba,32 with the second one (by Lucilius)
critiquing the painter Diodorus on his work, making it
seem as if the poets child that was the subject of the
painting has been portrayed as cynocephalic like
Anubis, and that the childs mother therefore seems to
have been Hecuba.33 Hyginus Fabulae 111 follows
the same pattern as many of the previous tales, with
Hecuba throwing herself into the sea near the
Hellespont and being turned into a dog while the slave
of Ulysses.34 In Quintus of Smyrnas Fall of Troy
14.347-351, Hecuba is turned from a human to a dog
after the death of her daughter Polyxena, and then into
stone;35 this passage is presaged by an extended simile
in 14.280-288, in which Hekabes lamenting is
compared to a bitch who has lost her whelps.36 A
fragment of Nicander of Colophons Heteroeumena
tells the tale somewhat differently, with Hekabe
leaping into the sea when she saw her home city in
flames and heard her husband dying, and he specifies
that that she took the form of a Hyrcanian (or
Molossian) hound in doing so.37 Ciceros Tusculan
Disputations 3.26.63 also states that Hecubas sorrow
caused her to change into a dog.38 Servius
Commentary 3.6 says that as Hecuba saw Polydorus
body, she was transformed into canine form in her
sorrow, as she had wanted to throw herself into the
sea.39 The difference, however, between most of these
post-Euripidean literary traditions and the Greek
tragedy is that, instead of being transformed into
canine form due to her bestial revenge,
Hekabe/Hecuba is transformed due to her sorrow and
hound-like wailing.40

The story is also presumably known to a variety of

other ancient writers, who mention the existence of
her tomb/monument, the Cynossema near the
Hellespont, without elaborating much upon it. These
writers include Diodorus Siculus,41 Strabo,42
Pomponius Mela,43 and Pliny.44 A strange passage in
De Dea Syria 40 (attributed to Lukian of Samosata)
also indicates that a statue of Hekabe was enshrined in
the temple in Hierapolis.45 Hecuba is remembered
well into the medieval period, in CB16 of the
Carmina Burana manuscript (which was made into
the second song of Carl Orffs musical setting of
Carmina Burana, Fortuna Plango Vulnera), and in
Dantes Inferno 30.13-20, with the latter featuring her
canine transformation.

In many respects, our final tale, that of the Wife of

Ephesus, is far simpler, as it only occurs in one
source a fragment attributed to Kallimakhos and
yet the implications for it are far more complex than
the Hekabe/Hecuba story. The fragment is from
Kallimakhos Hypomnemata, and details how a king
called Ephesus (a ruler of that city) had in his house a
woman who offended the goddess Artemis by
refusing her hospitality and expelling her from the
house; in anger, Artemis changed the woman into a
bitch, but then felt pity for her and returned her to
human form. The woman was ashamed and hung
herself with her girdle, but Artemis removed her own
finery and adorned the womans corpse, naming her
Hekate.46 This compares to a tale in which the tyrant
Pythagoras of Ephesus killed the Basilids, but allowed
one girl to be spared, though she was confined to a
temple; she hung herself to escape starvation, after
which plague and famine struck the city, and the
Delphic Oracle suggested erecting a temple and
burying the dead. Fontenrose suggests that perhaps
we are to understand that Artemis was in the form of
the girl in this case.47 This story fits several of the
details, including the location, of the Wife of
Ephesus tale. However, the story also compares
quite closely to the change of name for Iphigenia, a
maiden who in the pre-Trojan War period was
sacrificed to Artemis, into Hekate under Artemis
favor. The latter story, in terms of the specifics of the
name change and the goddess who brings it about,
also must be considered in juxtaposition with the
Wife of Ephesus tale.48 Are we to assume that the
woman became the goddess, or merely an attendant
for Artemis with the goddess name? It is difficult to
say whether or not there is more significance to this
story from Kallimakhos than what our single fragment
indicates, but it is another intriguing occurrence of
Hekate in relation to cynanthropy.

To conclude, there is a persistent chthonic association

with dogs in many cultures, including Greece, Rome,
and Egypt, with monstrous hounds or cynocephalic
creatures often serving a psychopomp function. As
Hekate does have a likewise perennial connection
with the earth, with the dead, and with pathways, it is
also no surprise that a canine association has
developed with her, both in terms of ordinary hounds
reaction to her approach, the presence of monstrous
chthonic hounds in her entourage, and traditions of
both cynocephalic forms as well as being involved
with cynanthropic transformations in herself and
others. In both the cases of the Wife of Ephesus
and Hekabe/Hecuba, sorrow and suicide play into the
picture greatly.

As a possible suggestion for interpretation of this,

based perhaps on later philosophical traditions,
Hekate (and her alternate form, Physis) are often
connected to leading particular daemonic dogs in the
Chaldean Oracles, as mentioned previously. These
are earth-bound, non-transcendent creatures, an
encounter with which is not generally sought after,
and which in fact might impede the progress of a
would-be theurgic practitioner. Becoming mired in
the physical through excessive sorrow, and then
rejecting life and the physical through suicide, may in
fact doom someone to become such a spectral hound.
Dogs are universally ambivalent, both mans best
friend as well as potentially the lurking wolf at the
door at all times, great allies in hunting and guarding
and even in warfare, and yet also nuisances in their
incessant barking and howling and potential to carry
diseases. Likewise, Hekate is a benevolent and
beneficial goddess in many circumstances,
particularly for the likes of theurgic practitioners and
for those who interpret her along the lines which
Hesiod did; but she can equally be baneful and
dangerous, even to otherwise unsuspecting
individuals. An ambivalent goddess, an ambivalent
creature, and an ambivalence to life and physicality
may in fact all add up to the expected conclusion of
canid transformation in association with the goddess
influence, therefore.

Greek and Latin literatures generally provide a rather

negative view of human animal metamorphoses, no
matter how fascinated they seem with it, and it would
not be until much later in European literature that
positive manifestations of lycanthropy and
cynanthropy would become possible in narrative
literature. But, for the present, we can marvel at the
ways in which canid symbolism in relation to Hekate
is deployed in myriad ways, signifying deep-seated
fears as well as fascinations with the limits and
boundaries of what it means to be human, animal, or
divine.
1
General accounts of Greek lycanthropy include
Montague Summers, The Werewolf (London:
Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, & Co., Ltd., 1933),
pp. 133-177; Richard Preston Eckels, Greek Wolf-
Lore (Philadelphia: 1937), pp. 33; Walter Burkert,
Homo Necans: The Anthropology of Ancient Greek
Sacrificial Ritual and Myth, trans. Peter Bing
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983),
pp. 83-93; Richard Buxton, Wolves and
Werewolves in Greek, Thought, in Jan Bremmer
(ed.), Interpretations of Greek Mythology (London:
Routledge, 1987), pp. 60-79; Philippe Borgeaud,
The Cult of Pan in Ancient Greece, trans. Kathleen
Atlass and James Redfield (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1988), pp. 23-44; Daniel E.
Gershenson, Apollo the Wolf-God, Journal of Indo-
European Studies Monographs 8 (McClean, VA:
Institute for the Study of Man, 1991), pp. 98-106.
2
Including accounts in Herodotus of the Neuri, a
people who were said to transform into wolves on
one day a year, in 4.105; Robin Waterfield (trans.),
Herodotus: The Histories (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1998), p. 270. This is also
repeated in Pomponius Melas De Chorographia
2.14: Charles Frick (ed.), Pomponius Mela, De
Chorographia (Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1880), p.
31, translated in F. E. Romer, Pomponius Melas
Description of the World (Ann Arbor: University of
Michigan Press, 1998), p. 72; and also in Caius
Julius Solinus De Mirabilibus Mundi, Cap. 16: see
http://www.thelatinlibrary.com/ solinus2.html#XVI.
Furthermore, in many Greek and Roman sources,
 the witch Circe is said to have transformed some of
Odysseus men (or their predecessors) into wolves:
these include Homers Odyssey 10.210-219;
Strabos Geography 6.1.5 (which gives the identity
of the figure in the Pausanias passage noted below);
Vergils Aeneid 7.10-20; Pseudo-Apollodorus
Bibliotheke (Epitome) 7.14-16; Athenaeus
Depinosophistae 1.10; Pausanias Description of
Greece 6.6.7-11; Boethius Consolation of
Philosophy 4.3.17; and Augustines De Civitate Dei
18.17-18. This is only a small selection of possible
examples from Greek and Latin literature.
3
The earliest of these is from Platos Republic
8.565d; see John M. Cooper (ed./trans.), Plato,
Complete Works (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing
Company, 1997), pp. 1176. Further extant Greek
references include Lycophrons Alexandra 480-481:
A. W. Mair and G. R. Mair (eds./trans.),
Callimachus, Hymns and Epigrams, Lycophron,
Aratus (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1955), pp. 360-361; (Pseudo-) Eratosthenes
Katasterismoi 8: Theony Condos, Star Myths of the
Greeks and Romans: A Sourcebook, Containing
The Constellations of Pseudo-Eratosthenes and the
Poetic Astronomy of Hyginus (Grand Rapids, MI:
Phanes Press, 1997), p. 55; Pausanias Description
of Greece 8.2.1-6: W. H. S. Jones (ed./trans.),
Pausanias, Description of Greece, Vol. 3
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1933), pp.
350-353. Latin references include Ovids
Metamorphoses 1.163-243: Frank Justus Miller
(ed./trans.), Ovid, Metamorphoses, Books I-VIII,
 revised by G. P. Goold (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1977), pp. 12-19; Hyginus Poetic
Astronomy 2.4: Condos, Star Myths, p. 56;
Hyginus Fabulae 176: Herbert Jennings Rose (ed.),
Hygini Fabulae (Lugduni Batavorum: A. W.
Sijthoff, 1934), p. 123; Plinys Historia Naturalis
8.34: H. Rackham (ed./trans.), Pliny: Natural
History (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1940), Vol. 3, pp. 58-61; and the Christian
Augustine of Hippos De Civitate Dei 18.17: Eva
Matthews Sanford and William McAllen Green (ed./
trans.), Augustine: The City of God Against the
Pagans, Vol. 5 (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1965), pp. 420-421. The tradition of Lykaon
continues into the medieval period, with John
Gowers Confessio Amantis 7.3355-3386.
4
Servius Commentary on Vergil 4.377: George
Thilo and Herman Hagen (eds.), Servii Grammatici
qui feruntur In Vergilii Carmina Commentarii
(Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner, 1923), Vol. 1,
pp. 531-532.
5
Homers Iliad 4.101 (Apollo, the wolf-born god):
A. T. Murray (ed./trans.), Homer, Iliad Books 1-12,
revised by William F. Wyatt (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1999), pp. 170-171; Aristotles
History of Animals 6.35: A. L. Peck (ed./trans.),
Aristotle, X, History of Animals Books 4-6
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970), pp.
342-345; Antigonus of Carystus Historion
Paradoxon Synagoge 61: Anthony Westermann
(ed.), Paradoxographi Graeci (Amsterdam: Adolf
M. Hakkert, 1963), p. 77; Aelians De Natura
 Animalium 10.26: A. F. Scholfield (ed./trans.),
Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals, 3 Vol.
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1959), pp.
320-321; and Thomas Gaisford (ed.), Etymologicon
Magnum (Amsterdam: Adolf M. Hakkert, 1967), p.
680, lines 21-34.
6
Daniel Ogden, Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the
Greek and Roman Worlds: A Sourcebook (Oxford
and New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp.
177-178 142. In relation to Marcellus writings on
cynanthropy and the subsequent discussion of
Hecuba, see also W. H. Roscher, Das von der
Kynanthropie handelnde Fragment des Marcellus
von Side, Abhandlungen der philologisch-
historischen Classe der Kniglich Schsischen
Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften 17 (1897), No. 3.
7
Dionysius of Chalcis fragment 4: Charles Mller
(ed.), Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum Vol. 4
(Paris: Ambrosio Firmin Didot, 1868), p. 394.
8
Lycophron Alexandra 961-964: Mair and Mair, pp.
400-401; Servius Commentary on Vergil 1.550;
Thilo and Hagen Vol. 1, p. 169. See also Saara
Lilja, Dogs in Ancient Greek Poetry (Helsinki:
Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1976), p. 103.
9
Jeffrey Henderson (ed./trans.), Aristophanes:
Frogs, Assemblywomen, Wealth (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 2002), pp. 64-65.
Another case of serial shapeshifting, which includes
a canid form, would be the Hellenistic/Ptolemaic
Papyrus Jumilhac, which includes a sequence in
which (after Isis has spied upon Set in the form of
Hathor) Set pursues Isis, and both assume animal
 forms, with Set as a bull and Isis assuming the form
of a dog with a knife on the end of its tail; see Susan
Tower Hollis, The Ancient Egyptian Tale of the
Two Brothers: A Mythological, Religious,
Literary, and Historico-Political Study, Second
Edition (Oakville, CT: Bannerstone Press/The
David Brown Book Company, 2008), pp. 197-198.
10
Indeed, Empusae were connected to Hekate, and
thus the previous example given also relates to this
pattern. See Lilja, p. 80.
11
For a good general account of the goddess, and the
many associations she has with dogs, see Robert
Von Rudloff, Hekate in Ancient Greek Religion
(Victoria, B.C.: Horned Owl Publishing, 1999),
passim.
12
George Luck (ed./trans.), Arcana Mundi: Magic
and the Occult in the Greek and Roman Worlds
(Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins
University Press, 1985), p. 68; Lilja, p. 92.
13
E. V. Rieu (trans.), Apollonius of Rhodes, The
Voyage of Argo (London and New York: Penguin,
1971), pp. 136, 141; Lilja, p. 101.
14
Odgen, Magic, Witchcraft, pp. 272-273 275; In
Search of the Sorcerers Apprentice: The
Traditional Tales of Lucians Lover of Lies
(Swansea: The Classical Press of Wales, 2007), pp.
54-55 22-24.
15
Odgen, Magic, Witchcraft, pp. 254-256 244; In
Search of the Sorcerers Apprentice, pp. 50-51 13-
15.
16
Hans Dieter Betz (ed./trans.), The Greek Magical
Papyri in Translation including the Demotic Spells,
 Volume One: Texts, Second Edition, with an
updated bibliography (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1992; paperback edition 1996), pp.
65 (the goddess is addressed as O Black Bitch), 75
(cow and dog heads), 92 (goat and dog heads);
further, Brimo (often taken as a by-name of Hekate)
is described as a dog in maiden shape, as well as
wolf-formed and dog-shaped, in a spell on pp.
78-79.
17
Sarah Iles Johnston, Hekate Soteira: A Study of
Hekates Roles in the Chaldean Oracles and
Related Literature (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990),
pp. 134-142.
18
Ruth Majercik, The Chaldean Oracles: Text,
Translation, and Commentary (Leiden: E. J. Brill,
1989), pp. 84-85 91, and commentary, pp. 176-177.
19
Glenn W. Most (trans.), Hesiod, Theogony, Works
and Days, Testimonia (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 2006), pp. 36-39.
20
W. H. D. Rouse (trans.), Nonnos, Dionysiaca, Books
I-XV (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1984),
pp. 104-107.
21
A. Tsolomitis (ed.), Orphikoi Hymnoi (Samos:
University of the Aegean, 2001), p. 2.
22
Walter Burkert, Greek Religion, trans. John Raffan
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1985), p.
65.
23
A. T. Murray (ed./trans.), Homer, Iliad Books 13-24,
revised by William F. Wyatt (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1999), pp. 578-579. A choral lyric
fragment quoted by Dio Chrysostom has Hekabe
made into a fiery-eyed bitch by the Erinyes:
 Theodor Bergk (ed.), Poeta Lyrici Graeci, Vol. 3
(Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1882), pp. 720-721 101;
translated in Judith Mossman, Wild Justice: A Study
of Euripides Hecuba (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1995), p. 35.
24
For an excellent commentary on this play, see
Mossman, particularly pp. 35-36, 194-202, 214-217,
which discuss the cynanthropic aspects and legacy
of this character. See also Raanana Meridor,
Hecubas Revenge: Some Observations on
Euripides Hecuba, American Journal of Philology
99 (1978), pp. 28-35; Anne Pippin Burnett, Hekabe
the Dog, Arethusa 23.2 (Spring 1994), pp. 151-164;
Lilja, pp. 64-66.
25
David Kovacs, Euripides, Children of Heracles,
Hippolytus, Andromache, Hecuba (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 2005), pp. 400-519; for
Polymestors prophecy, see pp. 512-515, lines 1259-
1273.
26
Christopher Collard and Martin Cropp, Euripides,
Fragments, Aegeus-Meleager (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 2008), pp. 72-73 62h.
27
Frank Cole Babbitt (trans.), Plutarch, Moralia,
Volume V (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1936, reprint 2003), pp. 164-165. Mossman, p. 35,
debates Burkerts identification of this fragment as
relevant to Hekabe, but Von Rudloff, p. 56 and
elsewhere, as well as many other commentators,
accept the relevance of this fragment to Hekabe.
See also Deborah Lyons, Gender and Immortality:
Heroines in Ancient Greek Myth and Cult
 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), pp.
154-155.
28
Jeffrey Henderson (ed./trans.), Aristophanes,
Fragments (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
2008), pp. 416-417 608.
29
Mair and Mair, pp. 416-419. For commentary, see
Lilja, pp. 102-103.
30
Frank Justus Miller (ed./trans.), Ovid,
Metamorphoses Books IX-XV, revised by G. P.
Goold (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1984), pp. 256-257.
31
Ibid., pp. 266-269.
32
W. R. Paton, The Greek Anthology, Books XIII-XVI
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1918), pp.
40-41 (XIV, 27).
33
W. R. Paton, The Greek Anthology, Books X-XII
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1918), pp.
172-173 (XI, 212); Lilja, p. 122.
34
Rose, p. 81.
35
A. S. Way (trans.), Quintus Smyrnaeus, The Fall of
Troy (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1913),
pp. 590-591. Lactantius commentary on Ovid says
fundamentally the same thing: Hugo Magnus (ed.),
P. Ovidi Nasonis Metamorphoseon Libri XV,
Lactanti Placidi qui dicitur Narrationes Fabularum
Ovidianarum (Berlin: Weidmann, 1914), pp. 700-
701.
36
Way, pp. 586-587.
37
A. S. F. Gow and A. F. Scholfield (eds./trans.),
Nicander, The Poems and Poetical Fragments
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953),
pp. 144-145 62; Lilja, p. 104.
38
J. E. King (trans.), Cicero, XVIII, Tusculan
Disputations (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1927), pp. 300-301.
39
Thilo and Hagen, Vol. 1, p. 335.
40
Mossman, pp. 214-216.
41
Diodorus Siculus Library of History 13.40.6: C. H.
Oldfather, Diodorus Siculus, Library of History,
Books 12.41-13 (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 1950), pp. 230-231.
42
Strabos Geography, 7 fragment 55: Horace Leonard
Jones (trans.), Strabo, Geography III, Books 6-7
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1924), pp.
376-77; and 14.2.14: Horace Leonard Jones (trans.),
Strabo, Geography VI, Books 13-14 (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1929) pp. 280-281.
43
Pomponius Melas De Chorographia 2.2.26: Frick,
p. 34.
44
Plinys Historia Naturalis 4.11.49: H. Rackham
(trans.), Pliny, Natural History, Books 3-7
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1942), pp.
154-155. See also Jennifer Larson, Greek Heroine
Cults (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press,
1995), pp. 21 and 165n76, for alternate traditions of
Hekabes death and the location of her tomb (mostly
in scholiae on Lycophron).
45
Harold W. Attridge and Robert A. Oden
(eds./trans.), The Syrian Goddess (De Dea Syria)
Attributed to Lucian (Missoula: Scholars Press,
1976), pp. 48-49.
46
Rudolf Pfeiffer, Callimachus, Volumen 1:
Fragmenta (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1949), pp. 352 461.
47
Joseph Fontenrose, The Delphic Oracle, Its
Responses and Operations, with a Catalogue of
Responses (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1978), pp. 76-77.
48
Larson, pp. 153-154; Sarah Iles Johnston, The
Restless Dead: Encounters Between the Living and
the Dead in Ancient Greece (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1999), pp. 242-246.

Hekate Devotion
by Marian Dalton

I am the sound of midnight in an empty house

I am the frozen silence of the grave
I am the mistletoe that strangles the oak
I am the cessation of breath and the slowing of the
heart
I am blood-let and life-stop
I am white as bone, red as blood, black as earth
I am the end of every quest
I am the closing of the eyes
I am the crossing of the hands
I am the coin upon the tongue
I am the memento mori
Inescapable

Dark Moon Light

by Christa Bergerson

Go now conjurers
deep in the land of bones and stones
where wailing willows walk
betwixt the roads
fern grass grows ghost petals
trees wear faces in their cloaks

Follow the twisted cypress

down the meandering path
listen when hounds howl
she will rise, wax
luminescent
a willo-the-wisp
lantern beckoning
shades wandering through woods
where incantations flow
from the babbling babbling brook

Prayer to Hecate
by Holly Cross

Hecate, goddess of blinding light

goddess of illumination, show me the way.

Hecate, goddess of the crossroads

goddess of protection, bless my path.

Hecate, goddess of the baying hounds

goddess of fear, allow me to conquer.

Hecate, goddess of the sky, earth and sea

goddess of the three realms, teach me about nature.
Hecate, goddess of the three heads
goddess of the Arts, grant me the power of sight.

Hecate, goddess of menstrual blood

goddess of women, bestow upon me, your power.

Hecate, goddess of womens magic

goddess of the craft, lend power to my workings.

Hecate, goddess of ancient witches

goddess of the old ways, help me keep the mysteries.

Hecate, goddess of blazing torches

goddess of the lost, deliver me to safety.

Hecate, goddess of Circe and Medea

goddess of sisterhood, be a mother and sister to me.

Hecate, goddess of night and darkness

goddess of the midnight sky, wrap me in secrecy.

Hecate, goddess of the black butterfly

goddess of change, transform me.

Hecate, goddess of shimmering keys

goddess of knowledge, open the world to me.

Invocation to Hekate
by E. A. Kaufman
Hekate of the Three Ways, I invoke You,
Maiden of the Land, the Underworld & the Seas as
well,
Chthonia, Enodia, Phosphoros,
Propylaia, Atropaios, Propolos,
Kourotrophos,
Adorned in saffron robes, shining in the Night,
Nocturnal One, Keeper of the Keys, Lady of Torches,

Hekate, hear me.

Upon this night, the way is open,
Be with me at the Crossroads of the Worlds.
You who are Keeper the Mysteries,
You who lead me to journey across the River,
You who are the Pale Mother,
Be present at this my Hallowed Rite.

I bow to You, Lady.

With scent & flame I make offerings to You.
With honey & cider I pour a libation to You.
I have given my blood that You may know me,
Keep me.

For I am one of Your Especial Breed.

I bow before You, Hekate,
Come, Hear me, Know my Name,
Be with Me.

Saffron Robed
by Diotima Sophia
Bright coiffed Hekate
Mistress of magic
Mistress
Of the dead
Saffron robed
Highly honoured
Cross roads call you
Lady of the ways

(Originally published in Dancing God)

Dancing Hands
by Holly Cross

Magic from afar

starts with magic close at hand.
Sister Hecate sways
as she grinds the herbs beneath the pestle.
Her long, slender fingers of white
work quickly, gliding
through the steps of the spell.

With one drop of rain, herbs of the earth

and salt from the sea, she pours herself
into the bowl, impregnating the preparation
with power.

She spins to face the distance

and sees the destination in her mind:
a man on a horse, dressed in armor.
She scoops the compound into her palms
drinks in the wind
and blows the words across her dancing hands.

The soldier sees a comet coming for him

and then he falls to the cleansing earth.
The horse bolts, leaving her master behind.
His message of war will never arrive.
His cold heart was stopped by the dart of a Queen.

Hekates Offering
by E. A. Kaufman

I am the darkness,
Waiting, silent in stygian stillness.
I am the silent stillness,
Waiting, full, ripe with knowing, bliss.
I am the amorphous knowing,
Waiting, bringing truth, healing.
From Beneath, within the rich, redolent Earth,
I wait.
From beneath, within the crystal, renewing waters,
I wait.
From above, within the winds that whisper and take,
I wait.
The darkness holds and heals.
The water blesses and heals.
The wind cleanses and heals
These are my offerings. Will you accept them?
Here is my torch, I hold it for you,
Opening the path.
Light within darkness.
Here from beyond.
Wisdom from knowledge.
As you have offered to me time and again,
Blood and honeyed wine, herb and egg,
Garlic and almond, fig and date,
Now, I offer to you.
From the three realms I come
To the crossroads where you have called to me.
Will you join me there?
Will you journey with me
To my caverns of darkness and light, soft and still,
Mothers embrace?
Will you accept my gifts: visions, dreams,
Let your spirit fill and flow?
Will you come, O priestess of Hekate,
priestess of mine?
Come, be with me, I am waiting.

Windsong
by Bettina Theissen

I can see you

in the darkness
ahead of me.
The light of your torch
is barely enough to illuminate
the distance between us.
Somehow
I stopped once again on my path
and now you are waiting,
waiting for me to resume my rightful place
at your side.
I hurry up.

Serving Her
by Allyson Szabo

Ive been serving Hecate for a long time. Over those

years, Ive worshipped her in different ways, for a
multitude of reasons. One of the most touching and
intense ways I have served her is as psychopomp, as a
person who helps conduct the souls of the dead to
their resting place. I take this particular role very
seriously, and have engaged in it since prior to
learning about Hellenism.

My lessons as a working psychopomp began when my

maternal grandfather fell gravely ill. He suffered a
massive, fatal stroke, and was kept on life support
only long enough for me to travel home (I lived some
2000 miles away at the time) to say goodbye. I arrived
late in the day and rushed to the hospital, where
nurses told me that he would be removed from life
support and would likely die within the hour. The
family gathered around his bedside, to be with him
and to provide one another with comfort during our
time of grief.

He did not die.

His body struggled on, unwilling to pass. He had
always been a strong man, vital and in control, and his
passing was difficult. The family decided that an
airway would be left in, in order that he should not
suffocate to death (an option none of us found
acceptable), but that no other measures would be
taken. We were assured he was basically dead
already, but that it might end up being several days
before he finally let go and died.

I felt him, that night. He hovered close, and it felt as if

he were waiting for something. After a long
discussion, I convinced my family to leave me at the
hospital, and to take my grieving grandmother home
and care for her and see that she got some sleep. The
nurses provided me with a cot so that I could sleep in
the little room theyd provided for him as a courtesy. I
sat in the chair beside him and talked.

Instinctively, I had felt that I needed to say words and

prayers to help him move on. I had known that before
I ever walked into the room, but when I entered, it
was even more obvious. I had brought along a copy of
the Egyptian Book of the Dead, not knowing what else
to use, and I began to read. I told him about his
grandchild, about my life, and when his breathing
calmed and became quiet, I told him that my
grandmother was at home in the arms of the family,
and that it was alright to go. I told him we loved him,
and that it was his time, and that I would be with him.
I sat there for hours, holding his hand into the night. I
stayed there until his last breath came out of his body.
I stayed there until his skin cooled to my touch, and I
felt his essence was gone. It was a powerful moment
for me, and I was surprised. I did not feel grief; I felt
joy! I was sad that he was gone, yes, but the fact that I
was there with him at the end made me feel a sense of
quiet calm, of welling love for this man who had
loved me unconditionally.

I was proud to stand as minister at his funeral, and it

was my first official act as a minister. It has touched
my ministry in many ways. It is my belief that Hecate
saw something in me as a child, and later as an adult,
and that she picked me because I have the capacity to
deal with death without the uncontrollable grief most
others experience. It isnt that I dont grieve at all I
do, very much so. Even those who I didnt know well,
such as a boyfriends father who died while I was
present, elicit feelings of grief. But for me, it is not a
crippling thing, but something freeing.

In my time as a pagan, and later as a Hellenic

polytheist, I have dealt with several deaths. Some of
them have been far away, and I have been called on to
bring comfort and aid the grieving process for those
left behind. Others I have attended personally,
standing by as I did with my grandfather. I take my
responsibilities as Hecates priestess very seriously,
and try to convey that seriousness to others. I find that
people turn to me in grief, almost instinctually, and
often the right words come to my mouth without my
seeking them. They are just there, when I need them.
When those moments come, I do my best to be a
vessel, to stand and let the light of my goddess pass
through me, to give succor and balm to those who
hurt.

Hecate is a goddess of many things. Shes an enigma,

a mystery. Her prominent place in the Eleusinian
Mysteries has confused scholars through the ages.
Ive found that its better to simply accept what
Hecate sends my way, to roll with the punches, so to
speak. Struggling against the tasks she sets me to
seems to only make my life unnecessarily difficult.
Her mysteries are vast and innumerable, and Im
proud to plumb them in the various ways that I do.

On the Modern Worship and Understanding of

Hekate
by Lykeia

When taking into consideration the majority of

general pagans out there who worships Hekate, it is
disturbing to see how many align Hekate within a
very narrow function: Hekate is granted Queenship of
the Underworld. The temptation is there, of course, to
ask what happened to Persephone, but that will
generally be met with a firm belief that Hekate ruled
the Underworld before Persephone regardless of the
fact that evidence indicates that she was not a true
underworld goddess.
In the rape of Persephone, Hekate was not located
within the underworld, but rather within her cave. A
cave is a mediation point between the worlds of the
living and dead; and therefore associated with many
chthonic pastoral gods (think: cave of Pan). It was
from this vantage point that Hekate was a witness.
Other than declaring herself as Persephones
handmaiden later in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter,
and with Hermes aid guiding the goddess back to the
world of living, Hekate doesnt have a lot of direct
influence over the underworld. Another example
would be her function in the Aeneid where she had to
be drawn from her caves that lay at the passage into
the underworld so that Aeneas could slip past and
within. More commonly she is associated with ghosts
instead, and is seldom mentioned as literally being in
the underworld other than in reference to the Hekates
lunar light traveling to the underworld and the moon
absent from the sky.

Rather than an underworld goddess Hekate is more

likely a goddess of transition between life and death.
Her deipnon, or feast, was offered not in either
traditional chthonic or celestial practices. Neither
buried nor burned, but rather left out in a manner
appropriate to a goddess between the worlds, and
offered at the crossroads where the spirits lurk. At
birth Hekate is there, and at death Hekate is there.
There must be a reason why dead women accompany
the goddess. Why wouldnt they if she were leading
them to their place of rest. They are spoken of very
generically in a manner that would suggest that it is
not the same group of women accompanying her
everywhere, unlike Artemis and her specific nymphs
and hounds. It is unlikely to be a permanent thing, but
rather as she wanders the night she draws the souls of
dead to her train. She doesnt rule over the
Underworld but she is queen over those earthbound
ghosts that exist between the worlds, even as she leads
others into the next world. Those who died violently
before their own time was up, much as Hecuba is in
her company, the grieving wife of Priam whom
Hekate took in the form of a night black dog. But
even these angry spirits are unlikely to stay with her
forever.

Even dogs themselves are connected to both the land

of the living and that of the dead. Friend of men, the
baying hounds of Hekate and Artemis, and the
guarding Kerberos. Dogs are very much a part of our
living lives, unlike dragons which have a history
associated with chthonic goddesses such as Gaia and
Demeter. The fact that dogs were offered in sacrifice
to Hekate says much about this. Hekate has been
linked to the whelping bitch as a fertility symbol
bearing her litter of pups, who nurses and nurtures.
This is highly represented of her nature in presiding
over fertility, as much as goats (who get a bad rap for
their later associations with Satanism). Hekate
appears as both, and received sacrifices of both. That
the fertile earth gives way to death and life renews
again.
However the crossroads seems to be the most well
known component in Hekate worship. And why
wouldnt it be since the crossroad goddess looking in
three ways is very popular in Hekatean art. Though it
does seem to be stressed primarily as the spot where
Hekate lurks more than anything else, for one would
leave feasts to the goddess at these crossroads. These
feasts were given to the goddess in preparation and
purification for the coming of the new month. By the
very nature of the feast belonging neither wholly to a
heavenly god nor the chthonic gods below, it invited
the hungry poor to feast at her plate. Whether this was
viewed as acceptable can be debated, but there were
those who took advantage of the goddesss feast. With
this in mind, there is a grisly fascination with the
crossroad goddess and her feast as it inspires the
imagination of wandering spirits, snarling hounds, and
the goddess with the serpentine hair wandering on her
darkest night.

Still this image persists, accompanied by her control

of sorcery. When you get right down to it Hekate is
not really depicted as a sorceress. However as a
goddess that illuminates the hidden it would be
common knowledge for her. She is presented more
frequently in teaching the arts to those who are
favored by her. As a goddess of the sea she can
whisper about the powers of the sea that can be
harnessed. As a goddess of the earth she can whisper
of the growing things that can be gathered and used.
In her connection with the moon she can tell of how
to ensnare the moon, and as such and her starry
heavenly realm she guides the course of good days for
planting, gathering and this guide can be equally
useful in sorcery. So while she aids and instructs the
sorceress, it is more in her revealing and all knowing
capacity rather than as a literal goddess of sorcery.
Though despite this there is no denying that she does
preside over the magical and mystical.

Overall there is little support for the doom and gloom

Hekate that is valued by so many as a terrible
goddess. Yes she is an awesome goddess, with a
primal power that will invoke fear into those who are
not familiar with her. Primal is the best description for
her as it illustrates her nature as being one of
wilderness and natural laws. The raw power of a
Titaness connected intimately with the natural world.
We depend on her to eat, whether in gathering fish or
having fruitful herds for these things are within her
hands. Fertility, life, and death. The sexual urge to
mate and reproduce. The mother to nurture from her
own flesh. In these things she shares her world with
Hermes who, like her, assists the dead back to their
final abode, masters the herds, and travels between the
worlds. He is also one who shares in the chthonic
snakes, goats and barking dogs.

She exists outside of civilization even as she is at our

roads and homes. And there she exists walking all
roads of the earth, below, and between us and the
gods. Civilization cannot exist without the consent of
the wilderness. The Latins claimed Diana as goddess
of civilization even as the Romans recognized the
contribution of Silvanus. Hekate straddles both
worlds: civilization, and wilderness, as she straddles
the worlds of the living and the dead. Probably not
such a far stretch in associations considering that
forests were considered dangerous places filled with
predators.

But what, then, of the night? Isnt the night under her
domain and associated with death and danger? True,
she is associated with the night, but as the nocturnal
light. The bright light of the full moon sheds enough
light to see comfortably by, enough so that
particularly bright moons are called Hunters Moons.
She illuminates without dispelling the darkness. Even
her governing of the starry heavens is governing of
the brilliance of light sparkling. She does not dispel
the dark for it is in the night that she shields the lovers
embrace, and in this fashion has been called the
Handmaiden of Aphrodite; for Hekate can conceal
even as she reveals. She is both the brilliant light and
dark blanket of night.

This is the nature of Hekate, one that is both simple

and complex and the same time, often contradicting;
and one that needs to be taken into more account by
the general pagan populace of those who worship and
serve her.

Hekate
by Hearthstone
Hekate, wise one, walker in the dark
who moves swiftly along hidden pathways.
In bright flames in the night, uncertain roads
made clear, in shifting lucent visions,
in hard choices made, in shadows embraced,
in all these are you well known, Hekate.
Hekate, knower of things unknown,
seer of things unseen, guide of the lost,
guardian of spirits, friend of the helpless,
we thank you for comfort and for shelter,
for a despairing hearts flutter of hope.
O Hekate, we praise and honor you.

Oblation
by Holly Cross

Hecate, I offer you the honey of the swarming bees.

Hecate, I offer you fish, fresh from the sea that is
yours.
Hecate, I offer you eggs, whole with the promise of
new life.

Hecate, I offer you blood, red as the birth blood that

marks your hands.
Hecate, I offer you flowing water from which all life
springs forth.
Hecate, I offer you wine, sweet and fit for a goddess.

Hecate, I offer you meat, just as the followers of old

did.
Hecate, I offer you almonds, leached of their poison.
Hecate, I offer you olives from the trees of your
homeland.

Hecate, I offer you cakes and ale to share with you.

Hecate, I offer you cheese, made from the milk of
goats.
Hecate, I offer you fresh figs, the sacred fruit of the
lands to the east.

Hecate, I offer you mint, the herb of many names.

Hecate, I offer you garlic, the herb of magic and
medicine.
Hecate, I offer you aconite the herb of moth food and
witch potions.

Hecate, I offer you the black poppies of night and

sleep.
Hecate, I offer you the yew berries of death and
rebirth.
Hecate, I offer you saffron, the plant of endless uses.

Hecate, I offer you my ruddy feet to walk your path.

Hecate, I offer you my henna-stained hands to do your
work.
Hecate, I offer you my dancing like the women of the
temples once did.

And all these things, Hecate, I offer you me.

My Journey With Hekate

by Krysta S. Roy
I have been devoted to the Hellenic deities for over a
decade now, but it was just about 3 years ago that I
encountered Hekate for the first time. Up until then, I
hadnt heard much about her, and what I had heard
was mostly misinformation: she was evil, she was
scary, shes an old crone who spawns demons,
shell feed you to Cerberus if you so much as look at
her the wrong way. I knew better than to believe
everything I heard, especially from the sources it was
coming from, but nonetheless, Hekate was still a
goddess I felt very wary of for a long time. And as I
was preoccupied with Athene and Apollon at the time,
I really didnt give it too much thought.

And then I fell on particularly rough times, a real

dark night of the soul. I was alone, bleeding and
broken, or at least thats how I felt. I spent most of my
time fighting back tears during the day at work, letting
the floodgates open when I got home. My anxiety was
at an all-time high, and I felt almost paralyzed. I was
just going through the motions of life and not really
living. I didnt sleep much, but when I finally passed
out from sheer exhaustion, that was when the dreams
began.

What struck me most about these dreams was that

they were so very vivid. Almost three years later, I
can still remember exactly how everything looked,
felt and sounded, even though most dreams fly away
from my memory almost as soon as I wake. At first I
didnt know where the dreams were coming from, I
just took notice because they were so powerfully
memorable. I dreamt of a spider spinning a web in a
tree whose trunk split into three main branches. I
dreamt of a black dog on top of a hill howling at the
crescent moon like a wolf. I dreamt of floating keys
finding their way into locks that were invisible until
the moonlight shone upon them.

After several weeks of these dreams repeating, then

came the grand finale. All the different dream
images from before seemed to blend into one. I was
on my bed in the dream. The tree with the spider and
her web was to one side, the dog on the hill was to the
other. The bed was set in the middle of a crossroads,
with one road behind me and two roads stretching out
in front of me. A snake coiled and struck me, biting
me on the arm. The full moon was overhead and a
woman who looked about my own age suddenly stood
in front of me, wearing indigo robes and a key tied to
her waist, holding two torches. I guess if you know
her well, the neon signs would have been flashing
long ago, but at the time, I didnt realize it until all the
symbols came together in this dream.

The woman came up to my bed and set her two

torches into my bedposts and gave me a look that I
can only describe as pity mixed with exasperation.
You were meant to do more than this, she said in
almost a sigh. You had dreams, you had goals and
now youre frozen in place like a statue. She reached
her hands out to me. Its still your choice. Will you
let this beat you? Will you let those who arent even
worth your time keep you down? Or will you trust me
trust in yourself and rise up?

I took her hands and she pulled me to my feet. Then

she said, Fear is not a weakness in itself, but courage
is moving forward through it, moving forward despite
it. If you are willing to move forward, then I will be
beside you. The two roads ahead began to glow
around the edges, and stars began to appear in the sky
around the moon. And as soon as I took the first step,
I woke up. I grabbed my journal and wrote everything
down just in case the dream faded, though as it turns
out, it hasnt faded at all. Nor have I ever had a repeat
dream visitation like it.

After I got out of bed and went about my day, I

started doing some research. Though I had an inkling
after the two torches in the dream, a friend confirmed
my hunch and suggested I start researching Hekate. I
ordered a few books and did a lot of web research in
the meantime. And while I would say that shes
definitely a goddess that wont put up with any BS,
shes also not quite the scary goddess I had
originally been led to believe she was.

It was through researching Hekate that I came upon

the religion I now practice, Hellenismos. I also found
out about Hekates deipnon and started doing a ritual
to honor her each month. While the vivid dreams have
not made a reappearance, I find Hekates guidance
comes particularly strong through divination, and the
readings I do after addressing my questions to her
directly always seem to be easier to understand, and
Im able to know just how they apply to my specific
circumstances.

Shes the goddess of the crossroads, and its fitting

that she came to me at a time when my own life was
at a crossroads. I credit her with helping me heal and
regain my strength, helping me pick up the pieces of
my life and make more empowering choices for my
future. My instincts feel stronger and Ive been
learning to trust my own intuition more. I feel more
guidance and inspiration than I did before, as well as a
strong push to actually do something with my talents.
I feel as though Im living my life with a greater sense
of meaning, able to focus more on whats truly
important and to get less caught up in whats not so
important.

I am so very grateful for Hekates presence in my life

and all she has done for me. I continue to honor her
on a daily basis, and hope that the living of my life
itself can do her honor. One thing is for sure, I am so
much better off than I was before she entered my life.
She continues to guide me and inspire me each and
every day.

Apology to Hekate
by Jennifer Lawrence

I tell people I dont know you,

But thats really not true, is it?
Early on in my studies,
I heard a lot from those who I considered
Less intellectually rigorous than me,
About how wonderful you were,
how powerful you were,
how mystical you were.
Mysticism has never been an interest of mine,
Magic never something I cared to pursue.
History was what caught my attention,
And literature,
And it angered me to no end
To see those who did not even
Worship you in your proper context
Glorifying you while in the same breath
They claimed you were the very same
As Kali and the Morrigan
(And I see some similarities,
But you are not they,
And they are not you,
No matter how many people may
Believe it to be so,
Nor will it ever be, no more than
A bird is the same thing as a bat or a plane,
Simply because all three things can fly.)
So, yes, I know of you,
Although you and I have never been close,
But it is not your fault
What fools may believe of you,
So I should save my anger
For those of a fools bent
Rather than blaming a god
For the deeds of their worshippers.
Therefore, I ask your forgiveness,
Prytania, Crataeis, triple-headed crone,
Mistress of the crossroads
And the hounds that howl at midnight.
Henceforth, no longer will I deny it
When folks ask if I know you,
And perhaps someday,
We might be more than strangers,
Two ships passing each other in the darkness.

On the Edge
by Jeremy J. Baer

You may think, dear reader, I have a moving essay for

you concerning how Hekate suffused every fiber of
my very soul with a transcendent joy and imminent
clarity of purpose. I have no such story, however. In
fact, Hekate is low on my list of divine priorities.
And that is what I want to share with you, actually.

Please do not mistake me. I have no intention of

besmirching or belittling a profound deity. In fact, the
public defamation of a divinity what some people
call blasphemy is against my own personal creed as
well as the creed of Neos Alexandria. Rather, I wish
to present a contrast to most submissions in this
anthology, which presumably were written by people
who consider Hekate their patron or primary deity.
One does not need to be so close to the goddess to
appreciate her. She can stand comfortably at the
edges and, in fact, the periphery is where she often
best belongs.

Polytheism is a complex web of overlapping relations

between human and divine in a great drama of life.
The stars of the show the most popular deities who
are usually proclaimed as patrons can dominate the
press. The supporting cast and bit actors need to be
appreciated for what they are. Going back to the
original point, then, Hekate is a great supporting
actress and can be easily honored within the
constraints of that role.

In modern Hellenic polytheism it is quite common to

devote oneself to one or two deities above the rest
(commonly called patron deities, though some dispute
the term). Then below them there may be a few more
deities whom one honors fairly regularly but not with
the same intensity of a patron. Further still, beneath
those there may be various deities one honors
infrequently. Ones choice of a particular hierarchy is
defined largely by personal proclivities, though
historical realities such as lunar calendar observations
and yearly festivals tend to factor in as well. Hekate
can and does fit quite easily into the lower scheme of
things. Let us find out how.

In ancient Athens, during the last day of the lunar

calendar the dark of the moon food offerings were
made to Hekate, a meal called a deipnon. The
goddess was a guide and guardian of liminal bounds,
not unlike Hermes. There was often a shrine to
Hekate on the doorstep of peasant homes. It was in
this capacity the Athenians best knew her. She was
an outsider, warding away certain unsavory elements
from the inner sanctum of ones home. A literati
named Hesiod had tried claiming Hekate was second
only to kingly Zeus, but most Athenians would have
none of it. She simply wasnt in the company of great
deities who dwelt on Olympus.

We shouldnt underestimate the importance of

household worship, of course, but equally we
shouldnt overestimate it. The home is the most
immediate social unit in someones life. But it is not
necessarily the most important. Classical Athens was
a very communal society and the civic life of the city-
state is where citizens directed their attentions. The
Athenian citizen lived life on a very public level in the
social milieu demanded by neighborhood (demos) and
the greater city-state (polis). Other gods who had a
role to play in household worship, like Zeus and
Apollo, had internationally renowned panhellenic cult
centers. Hekate did not have this.

Modern Hellenes inspired by ancient Athenian

religion often afford Hekate the same monthly
devotion as the ancients, on the dark of the moon.
And they view her in the same capacity a guide and
guardian situated at the edge of domestic
considerations.

My own view of Hekate aligns somewhere with this

model. Given that the city-wide public festivals are
gone (probably for good), domestic worship is the
most easily reconstituted level of Hellenic religion.
An offering once or month or so for guarding the
proverbial or literal doorway to the home seems
incumbent. Beyond this, I have no great relation to
the goddess, nor feel the need for one. My higher
devotions are to other divinities who more fully
command my interests.

But what of the popular image of Hekate as the ber-

goddess of spellcraft? Later in Greek religion she did
become associated with sorcery, ghosts and the
underworld. This is the aspect of Hekate most
consonant with neopaganism though, strangely,
neopagan devotees tend to portray the lithe, torch
bearing young maiden as a Gothic crone. And despite
the Gothic love of the macabre, modern imaginings
tend to gloss over certain facts of her ancient cult,
such as the fact that puppies were sacrificed to her. In
any event, I have never been particularly interested in
witchcraft, especially when it merely serves as a
convenient scheme of empowerment for alternative
minded individuals.

Deities demand different things of different people,

but to some people a deity may neither demand much
nor promise much. The guardian of the crossroads and
the doorway teaches me to look at the bigger picture
and recognize those blurry elements in the
background we may initially gloss over. By keeping
watch at the gates, I feel secure in the privacy of my
domicile, and am better able to devote my deeper
attentions to other things. It is here, on the edges, in a
modest but respectable role, that I found the goddess.

And it is there that I leave her.

Finding Hecate Where Three Roads Meet

by Pax / Geoffrey Stewart

Goddess of the Liminal Points, Lady of the

Wilderness, Queen of Ghosts, Thousand faced Night,
Mistress of Sorcery, mighty Hecate may your lanterns
light shine forth in the darkness and guide my head
and my voice, guide my heart, my hands, and my feet
as I tread these cross-roads paths.

Hear and attend my friends, of my first meeting with

Hecate, and how I didnt recognize Her at the time.

It was a bit more than a decade ago, I was newly self-

dedicated to Neo-Pagan religious Witchcraft (of the
kind popularly called Wicca). It was the early 90s
and after a lifetime of fascination with history and
mythology and the occult I had found modern
Paganism and was reading voraciously and throwing
myself at the gates of mystery with all the eagerness
of a newly minted Pagan. I was living in downtown
Anchorage, Alaska and working in Midtown. I was
working the night shift and walked home along some
of the bike trails near West High School and
Westchester Lagoon.
A dear friend of mine had recently given me a sealed
letter and told me to hold onto it for her and if
something happened to her I was to give it to her
parents. I was deeply worried, and she was short on
giving me any details. It seems so melodramatic and
teenage, even though we were both in our 20s, but at
the time it was horribly serious. Not knowing what
else to do I turned to the Gods, or rather a Goddess.
At the time I felt a pull from the Celtic gods and
goddesses. It was the early 1990s and all things
Celtic were all shiny and popular.

I was walking along a bike trail after work one night

at about 2am. I had been doing a lot of thinking about
whom to pray for, for protection for my friend, and
decided upon the Morrigan. I had also decided that I
should utter this prayer at a cross-roads. I really am
not sure why, it felt right at the time, what little I
could find out about the Morrigan she had a cross-
roads/liminality about her, at least to my mind and
soul at the time.

I thought hard about my words and, as I walked home

that fateful night, I approached this place where three
bike trails intersected forming an imperfect Y. I
spoke my prayers to the Morrigan, prayers of
protection and defense for my friend, just as I crossed
the boundary from the path to the cross-roads and
finished my prayer at the center of it.

Then, the Morrigan deigned to notice me

There was an intense onrushing of Power and
Presence, as deep and powerful and ancient as the
ocean and its tides or the majestic mountains of my
childhood. I stood there feeling as if I was being
picked up and examined from every angle. Held
carefully in strong yet gently cupped hands.
Scrutinized to the deepest part of my head and heart
and soul. Then there was a sense ofdecisionand
then She was gone.

I stood there, stunned and not quite sensible at that

point with every last wit scared right out of me. It is
one thing to believe in the Gods, it is another to be
closely scrutinized by one and have their reality
thrown into the depths of ones psyche. As an
acquaintance of mine used to say, truly a This shit is
real!!! experience. I stood there, stunned both by the
encounter and its implications, not knowing what to
do or where to go next, then She came.

There was this much lighter sense of presence. A

sense of amusement, not at my expense so much as at
the foibles of youth, gentle and kindly and as old and
enduring as the wilderness. I heard these thoughts that
were not quite/entirely my own

Its OK. The Gods are like that sometimes; try not to
make too big a deal about this. Go home, get some
sleep. Things are being taken care of as they should.
Its all-right Not words so much but thoughts and
feelings. As I stumbled home from the cross-roads the
voice and presence stayed with me
dragging/escorting me safely home.

Now I know that that presence was HecateI had

called to Morrigan, but Hecate is always there. She is
the cross-roads, at the liminal points where decisions
must be made, she even stands as Guardian of the
Gates as one of the Gods of protecting the home. One
of her many roles is that of guardian and guide.

At the time, I slept, and did not think much about the
experience for years, scared away from exploring the
Celtic pantheon especially but wary of the Ancient
Gods in general. I kept to the Lady and Lord of
Witchcraft and didnt muck about with any other gods
for a good long time.

Life happened, and I studied my Craft and grew and

learned and wandered off the spiritual path, and then
back on. In that time I also moved across the country.
A couple of years ago I was beginning to get involved
and active in a local Pagan community group when
some extremely unpleasant e-mails led me to back
away from being involved with them. I was saddened
and depressed by this turn of events and felt the urge
to write a prayer for guidance, and following some
inner urging to pray to Hecate, of all gods, I wrote the
prayer that begins this piece.

After that I found myself seeking or running into

information about Hecate whenever I was online. I
had some realizations about my cross-roads moment,
and I also offered a place in my life and heart to the
Saffron Veiled Lady.

I am now, and always, a Witch; I am also a budding

Hellenic Polytheist, a devotee of Hecate, a Bacchant,
a citizen of Neos Alexandria, and a Seeker once more.
Whatever happens and wherever I journey in this
lifetime, I am really not all that worried because She
is with me.

Hekate Soteira
by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus

Khaire Hekate Soteira, triple-formed,

lady of lions, mistress of hounds,
favored-one of Zeus, above all
triumphant over earth, ocean,
and vaulted heaven flecked with stars.

She is glimpsed by the dark of moon

at crossroads and on-ramps alike,
no door, no gate can obstruct her path;
horse and sail are hers to influence,
whirring engine and tail-lights at night.

With bright torch and barking dog

god and titan, nymph and satyr,
daimon and psyche, man and hero
have no choice but to go wherever
she has directed the crowd to surge.
The three who are one, the one who is three,
knowing virgin, ferocious mother,
animal-headed, cynanthropic,
the one who is three, the three who are one,
the voice of the formless fire, Khaire Hekate Soteira.

Hekate, Briefly in a Dream ...

by Renee Rhodes

I was falling through space. Falling through dark,

endless, lightless space when my feet suddenly
touched the floor. There was still no light, no way to
guide me, I couldnt see. I only knew that there was a
solid floor beneath my feet, and somehow I knew that
I was in a hallway despite there being no tangible
walls.

I had fallen like this several times, each time, the floor
dissolving beneath my feet. This time, the floor hadnt
dissolved and I considered whether to walk forward or
not. Before I really had time to think, there was a
presence, intangible and solid all at the same time,
sinuous and serpentine, flowing around me on all
sides then expanding until I was completely
surrounded.

I felt pressure, a pressing into my skin from every

point. It was an odd sensation, but somehow not
intrusive or overwhelming. Then I had the sense of
someone walking around me in circles, as if
inspecting me. Eventually, I had a feeling of approval
I had passed this inspection or whatever it was.

And once again, I was falling through space.

Long Beach, Hekate

by Todd Jackson

Under dark She rolls the waves.

She is phosphorus curled inside the wave
That has caught light off the piers lights that shine
downshore.
The waves skin grey-black from the sea-floors soot,
and above,
Grey-black from the clouded Night. The Night-clouds
that mass and ripple, Hers,
Not less than the phosphorus glowing, curled inside
the grey-black waves.

Hekate at Lagina and atalhyk

by Tim Ward

[Excerpted, with the authors permission, from

Savage Breast: One Mans Search for the Goddess]

Anatolia, Turkey

O nether and nocturnal, and infernal

Goddess of the dark, grimly, silently
Munching the dead,
Night, Darkness, broad Chaos, Necessity
Hard to escape are you...: youre Moira and
Erinys, torment, Justice and Destroyer,
And you keep Kerberos in chains, with scales
Of serpents are you dark, O you with hair
Of serpents, serpent girded, who drink blood
Who bring death and destruction, and who feast
On hearts, flesh eater who devour those dead
Untimely, and you who make grief resound...

Papyri Graecae Magicae, a 2nd Century A.D. Hymn

to Hekate1

It raises the hackles on the back of my neck, this late

hymn to Hekate. Can we imagine her as this poet did,
in the second century after Christ, as a goddess who
munches the dead? She is so clearly the vessel into
which the destructive spirit of the Furies were poured.
The hymn even calls her Erinys, the Greek word for
Furies and describes her with serpent hair and
scales. Dogs were sacred to Hekate because they ate
corpses, and so Cerberus, the three-headed hound of
who guards the gate to hell is under her control, as the
hymn proclaims. This portrait reminds me of Kali,
Hindu Goddess of Chaos who I encountered in India,
who also a drinker of blood, queen of charnel-
grounds, and devourer of the dead.

Yet when I began to research Hekates origins, a

startlingly different goddess appeared. Pre-classical
drawings and sculptures depict Hekate as a torch-
bearing maiden. She is described as bright coiffed
in a Homeric Hymn, and lovely in an Orphic Hymn.
In Theogony, Hesiod says Zeus honored her above all
others. He describes her as a noble goddess who
grants supplicants their wishes, makes journeys safe.
She blesses fishing, flocks, competitions, battles and
childbirth. Hesiod tells us her parents were Titans,
which indicates that her cult was pre-Olympian. Yet
Zeus treated Hekate better than the Titans he defeated
and banished. He did not use force on her and took
away none of the rights she held under the Titans,
those older gods, writes Hesiod. While other
goddesses were raped or married, Hekate was
singularly respected by Zeus. For 41 lines Hesiod
lavishes praises on Hekate, far more than he devotes
to any other goddess. You get the sense that he is
trying to curry favor with her, and wants to stay on
her good side.2

There is only one myth in which Hekate shows up as

a key figure. Its the tale of the rape of Persephone.
Hekate is the one who hears the girls cries when
shes being abducted, and it is she who leads Demeter
to the sun god Helios who tells them what happened.
Hekate appears again near the end of the story, when
Demeter agrees that Persephone will go back and
forth between earth and the underworld. Hekate offers
to be the girls constant companion and guide.3 This
close connection with Persephone and Demeter has
led many to identify Hekate as the third phase in a
fertility trinity of maiden, mother and crone. But the
relationship between these goddesses is much more
complex. Hekate is also called Aidonaia, or Lady of
Hades, and Perseis, after her Titan-father Perses, The
Destroyer. The root and meaning is the same as
Persephone. Hekate is also identified as Brimos the
Terrifying One the name given to Persephone at
Eleusis, the goddess who gives birth in fire. What
some experts make of this is that the underworld role
of Hekate got mixed in with the Olympian myths,
obscuring her older, pre-Greek identity.

So who was she originally? Some scholars point to

Anatolia in Turkey, where her cult center was located
among the Carians, and the ruins of her main temple
stand today. Other scholars have called attention to
the Egyptian Hekat, the mid-wife goddess whose
sacred animal was the frog (because of its
resemblance to a fetus). To the Greeks, Hekate was
also known as Kourotrophe, Nurse of the Young. But
she was also called The Three Formed a three-
headed goddess who oversaw many things with triple
phases, including the moon. She dwelled in wild
hilltops, moors, and desolate places, but also by roads,
harbors and cemeteries, and if ever someone was out
all alone, and felt suddenly afraid that was Hekate
he or she was sensing. Additionally she was guardian
of doorways, crossroads, and keys. All these multiple,
diverse identities confused me at first. Yet in them a
common thread can be discerned: Hekate is a goddess
of transitions, and a guide whose torch leads the way
from one realm to another. Altars to her were set up at
the doorways of houses, and also temples thresholds.
They were also raised to her at crossroads, where
travelers have to choose which path into the unknown
they would have to take. Transitions were fraught
with danger, even terror, in the ancient world:
childbirth, death, meeting brigands or wild animals on
the road, stepping through a temple threshold into the
presence of the divine, even leaving the safety of your
own home. As a goddess of change, Hekate was
invoked to bestow her gift of illumination, a torch to
guide one safely to the other side.

So how did a goddess so highly honored degenerate

over time into the repository for all the dark and
fearsome forces of the feminine divine? In truth,
Hekates destiny was the exact opposite of Athenas,
who became the repository of positive forces. I
suspect it was due to Hekates unpredictable nature.
You could pray to her when crossing a threshold, but
not take her attention for granted. She could curse as
well as she could bless. As the centuries progressed,
Hekates realm became more focused on concrete
thresholds: crossways, doorways, and graveyards. She
also began to be associated more exclusively with the
unclean byproducts of these threshold such as rubbish
(swept out over doorways) and corpses. The later
Greeks made her a hideous hag and flesh-eating
ghoul, her skin pallid and decaying, her robes a
shroud. Jacob Rabinowitz, author of a modern treatise
on Hekate, The Rotting Goddess, points out that her
descent reveals Greek attitudes towards material
existence. He writes that they yearned for the clean,
heavenly air of Olympus, the purity of Pythagorean
mathematics and Platos ideal forms. Ooze and decay
have no place in the life of a disembodied mind, yet
the messiness of birth, sex and death refuses to
disappear. It is one more version of conflict of Apollo
and the Python called Rot.

One other attribute of Hekate became prominent in

later times. She was known as Queen of the Witches.
As goddess of transitions, Hekate was naturally
connected with prophecy, consultation with the dead,
potions, and magic. Hekates daughters were the two
most famous witches of Greek mythology: Circe (who
turned Odysseus sailors into pigs), and Medea (who
used her magic to aid the hero Jason). A 3rd Century
B.C. epic, Argonautica, describes Medea as a
priestess at Hekates temple, and goes into great detail
about her magic rituals. Media was notoriously
bloodthirsty. To aid her and Jasons escape from her
father (from whom they stole the Golden Fleece),
Medea cut up her brother and threw pieces of him into
the sea. This slowed her fathers pursuing ships as
they stopped to collect the dismembered parts. Later
she tricked the daughters of a politically troublesome
king into chopping their father up and cooking him.
She did it all for love of Jason. So when he jilted her
for a Greek-born princess, Medea exacted her revenge
by murdering her and Jasons children.

As Queen of the Witches, Hekate lived on long after

the establishment of Christianity in Europe, and our
fairy tale notions of witches have much in common
with the later Greek characterizations of her. We all
know witches are old, warty, foul, vindictive and
cruel. They live in forests, on the boundary of the
wild. Their pots bubble with threshold creatures like
snakes and bats, frogs and newts, which they use to
cook up powerful spells. Fairy tale witches may eat
children, and certainly they ride Hekates broom (the
broom we still use for sweeping rubbish out the
threshold). In reality, of course, the women who were
accused of witchcraft were not especially foul or
warty. They practiced midwifery, divination, and
herbal medicine. Like Hekate, they were helpers
through difficult transitions...birth, troubles, sickness,
death. The Church could not tolerate the competition.
Its sacraments and prayers were to be the sole guide
through lifes transitions. The Church killed ruthlessly
to ensure its monopoly. Although the witch hunts had
many social and political causes, I wonder how much
of it was the obsessive theological urge to root out the
last vestiges of the old order. What made it easier to
demonize witches was that they could so easily be
cast in Hekates gruesome image, an image that
already terrified people for centuries before the church
rose to power.

If long ago we projected this fear of the Rotting

Goddess onto witches, today we have only ordinary
women to be the repositories of this peculiar loathing.
And it is weird that this creepy feeling is only
attached to old women, and not to old men. Perhaps
this explains why so many men as they grow older
dump their wives for younger women. To be married
to a crone at the archetypal level is to consort with
death. So, like old Hades, aging men seek out
Persephone, the maiden, with hopes shell make them
young again. But Hekate is inside of us, inhabiting a
dark corner of our anima. We cant get rid of her.

I get a flicker of something vile when I contemplate

the image of the Rotting Goddess. She viscerally
repels me, yet draws me, as if she holds a secret for
me inside her fetid mouth, a flicker of truth about
mens revulsion towards feminine flesh. I remember a
friend of mine he was only in high school at the
time, and yet he understood this all so well told me
he had found an easy way to break up with a
girlfriend after he no longer wanted to be with her.
When they started making out, he said he would keep
his eyes open, and he would just examine her, as if
through a microscope. He would stare at the
glistening pores, pimples, blackheads, the creases,
hairs, erupting moles and folded skin. He would feel
nauseated, and that would be the end of his attraction
for her. In my twenties, in India and Thailand, I
learned Buddhist techniques for eliminating sexual
desire that followed much the same course. I was told
to imagine a womans body split up into five heaps of
skin, nails, hair, teeth and internal organs, or to
visualize a woman as nothing but sacks of blood and
pus and shit. Feel desire for that? Thus men learn
what it is to treat women like dirt (as matter, not
Mater) and break their spell over us.

To dig up the origins of Hekates cult to exhume

her, if you will required going back to a time long
before the Greeks, before the Minoans and Maltese
Temple Builders. Back almost ten thousand years to a
time when grasses had been newly tamed into wheat
and barley and wild game into goats and cattle, to a
time when people ceased their nomadic wanderings
and began to live in villages. One such settlement on
the edge of the great Anatolian Plain got conditions so
right that between 7,500 and 5,500 B.C., seven
thousand or so people lived stacked together at one
time. Houses were built upon houses in successive
generations until they formed a great mound, the only
hump on a vast and marshy plain. It was an
unprecedented massing of humans so astounding that
the world would not see its like again until the city
states of Mesopotamia, three thousand years later.
This was a crucible of civilization, and in its many
shrines one finds the symbols that dominated western
religion throughout the ages and still echo for us
today: atalhyk, the first city.4

Teresa and I climbed to the top of the mound, wild

grasses swishing at our knees, and looked at the
trenches of the first excavations, made barely thirty
years earlier. The finds are now in Ankara, some on
display at the National Museum, a vivid window into
the past. You might think they would have been a
simple people, occupied with their animals, plants,
basket weaving, still hunting game on the grasslands,
maybe carving rudimentary totems. Take one look at
the reconstructed shrine room in Ankara, and you see
how wrong such a picture would be, see how fruitless
it is to interpret the past by drawing a line back and
down from the present.
Against the smooth plaster wall of the shrine, three
bull skulls line up, floor to ceiling. The heads are
covered with smooth clay, leaving the wide horns
sweeping out in triplicate. Above them, sculpted right
into the wall, a splay-legged woman squats. She
seems part frog, part human. It appears she is giving
birth to the triple bulls beneath her. My mind reels. Is
Hekate here? More bull skulls jut up from the floor on
columns. The shrine walls were once covered with
paintings. On the walls of the museum some of these
drawings have been lifted intact from atalhyk,
providing a vivid window to the past. There are
scenes of a hunt: a massive aurochs bull, a stag, a boar
surrounded by tiny black men holding spears. The
human figures seem to dance and float around their
prey, perhaps even leaping over it, prefiguring the bull
frescos of Crete by over 4,000 years. The city itself
appears on one scene, with an erupting volcano far in
the background. Another panel shows the great black
wings of griffin vultures, flapping around headless
bodies of the dead.

James Mellaart, the British archaeologist who first

excavated atalhyk in 1960, believed they
practiced excarnation, the removal of flesh from the
bones of the dead. Vultures and other carrion eaters
served this ritual purpose quite well.5 Mellaarts team
removed over three hundred skeletons from beneath
the floors of excavated houses, where the picked-
clean remains were buried perhaps to keep the
spirits of the ancestors close to home. One portion of
a wall painting shows tall wooden towers, each with a
stairway to the platform at the top. On one platform,
vultures tear at a headless corpse. On another, they
feast on a head without a body. The head seemed to
have a special spiritual significance and served as a
special offering, or as a container of power. Human
skulls were found on the floors of the shrine rooms in
company with the bulls, and a few (male) skeletons
have been found decapitated.6 A third wall painting
shows a peculiar symbolic pattern that hints at the
meaning of some of these rites: a double row of
vultures face each other, their bent wingtips touching
each other to form a diamond shape; and in each
diamond, the body of a woman; and within each
womans belly, the dark outline of a child. The flesh-
eating vultures seemed intimately connected with
birth. I imagined a atalhyk mother and child,
watching the vultures tending to their gruesome task
on the tower. The mother explains it something like
this:

You see, first the vulture eats the bodies, then the life
goes back inside the mother, where it can grow again
and turn into new babies.

Maybe this is how we inherited the story of the stork?

Theres also evidence that goddesses or perhaps real

women were sacred to these people. In a grain bin at
the site, Mellaart found an eight-inch statue of a
woman seated on a chair, a throne perhaps, because
the sides are two standing leopards on which she rests
her arms. He labeled her the Great Goddess, and its
easy to see why. She looks old, with folds across her
massive belly, folds on her knees, her breasts sagging
down across her sides, buttocks bulging out from the
back of her seat. She seems sculpted from real life,
not some abstract notion of divinity. The head was
broken off at the neck, and has been restored in the
museum with a mold from a female head from
another statue, so one has to imagine her without this
false face. She is solid, imposing, more queen than
mother of fertility and the fields. The resemblance
between her and the fat Goddesses of Malta is
striking, though she is at least two thousand years
older.

Some experts think that the round lump between her

legs is a newborn child. I have seen it unambiguously
labeled so in many books about the goddess. But
examining the statue for myself, I dont think thats
right. Theres not a single mark on the lump to
identify it as a baby, and the lump lies between her
feet on the floor, which seems weird. Given that the
rest of statue is rendered so realistically, I think the
thing between her legs may be an offering instead: a
hunk of meat, a loaf of bread, or perhaps a severed
head. A head makes the most sense to me, in light of
the skulls found scattered about the shrine room
floors. (In any case, the recent excavations of Ian
Hodders team at atalhyk revealed that fat
woman female figurines are a small minority of the
total, while more than half of them were animals.
Naomi Hamilton, a gender archaeology specialist
working on the site also noted that the fat woman
type of statue does not appear at all until the
settlement was several hundred years old, and that
most figurines were found in waste areas of the site,
not shrine rooms. Her implicit warning seems to be,
dont over-interpret the meaning of the Great
Goddess figurines at atalhyk.)7

The aspect of the shrines some experts find most

sinister and most disturbing are the molded shapes
protruding from the walls. Identical in form to a
womans breast, some of them have red-brushed,
natural-looking nipples and it looks as if they are
indeed breasts. This is strange enough by itself. But
other breast-shaped protrusions contain the skull of a
vulture with the beak sticking out in the place of a
nipple. Others contain the jaws of a jackal, or the
tusks of a boar. Scholar Michael Rice writes about
this in his book, The Power of the Bull: Thus the
Mothers breasts do not deliver life-sustaining milk
but are rather the agents of death, symbolized by the
animals who are her attendants. It is difficult to resist
the idea that the vultures skulls, peering out of the
Goddess breasts, suggest a profound degree of
psychological disturbance experienced by the priests
(if priests they were). Rice adds that it may not be
coincidence that in ancient Egypt, the word mwt
means both mother and vulture, and that the
hieroglyph for mother contains a vultures iconic
shape.8
Other experts, most notably archaeologist Marija
Gimbutas, see in these artifacts not a gruesome death
cult, but symbols of regeneration. The vulture, jackal
and boar are all carrion eaters. To Gimbutas they are
the goddess special agents for churning dead bodies
back into the cycle of life. Thus we have returned to
Hekates realm again. The symbolic beak-in-breast
may represent the eating back of living things into
the belly of the goddess to be born again. On the back
of one of the vultures feasting on the towers, a double
ax is clearly etched the same symbol of regeneration
the Minoans used four thousand years later.

I told Teresa about Gimbutas ideas while we

wandered through the atalhyk museum exhibits.

Makes perfect sense, she said. Mother Earth gives

us birth, and yet from the moment of that birth, she
hungers for us to return to her again.

Its a strange way to look at death, I said.

Oh, women understand death better than men: they

have the power to create life, and this must be
balanced in them with the capacity to destroy it.
Women can appreciate death as part of the cycle of
life because they are at the center of it. Its harder for
men. Think of it this way: Woman is the vulture. Man
is the bull. Shes the Divine Feeder, in both senses of
the word.

And we men are what, the meat?

Wandering though the museum, one thing was clear
to me: these people experienced death not in the
abstract, but viscerally as viscera, exposed and
eaten. What would it be like to enter into their world?
I imagined going down the ladder into that twilight
shrine, the great bull horns curving up to the ceiling,
the black vulture wings drawn across the walls. I
search for that clay breast, take it in both hands and
put the vulture-nipple to my lips. As I suck, I feel the
beak in it tear at my tongue, the flesh of my cheeks.
White milk gushes into my mouth and my red blood
flows back into the beak. No way to escape the
longing I have for that breast. Though it wounds me, I
go to her as a child, my cannibal mother. The image
flashes of the son/lover statue entwined around the
larger female, and this is how I feel, bleeding into her
and clinging to her. Little comfort that she eats back
the living when I am the one that shes gnawing on.
Its too real, this fusion of need and fear.

And yet, I have known exactly this feeling locked in

sex with Teresa. At times our lovemaking draws out a
consuming urge in her that she fights against. She tells
me shes afraid shell hurt me, or scare me away. I
have to hold her down, make her feel my strength so
that she can let loose her self control. Then her teeth
begin to chatter, as if she wants to gnaw at me. She
holds back with all her will. Her face turns dark,
almost black. Shes right. It terrifies me. But it thrills
me too, to be in the presence of something so strange,
so hungry. Im fortunate to have known the ravenous
goddess Kali in India. It gives me some pattern I can
fit to Teresas transformation. Without this, I would
have pulled away. How many women, I wonder, must
hold their ravenous inner demons back from men? But
for me, finding the dark goddess in her was deeply
erotic. Once when this strange urge came over her, I
fed her pieces of cantaloupe with my fingers while we
were having sex. She tore at the soft orange flesh
gulping it down, chunk after chunk, as if she were
starving, her eyes fixed wide on me. We both knew
that in that instant who she really was consuming.

I have to wonder, did the men at atalhyk feel

anything like it when the vulture-mother swooped
down on corpses, when the frog-woman gave birth to
triple bulls, when they looked up at night to the horns
of the waning yet regenerating moon? Was this grassy
mound perhaps, during its thousand years of life, the
origin of all that I feel now towards the death aspect
of the goddess, stripped back to the core?

From the plains of atalhyk Teresa and I drove into

the Anatolian hills, a primitive, eerie landscape of
dark forests, heavy clouds, small stone villages where
donkeys outnumbered cars. For long stretches theres
not even grazing sheep, just black-rock hillsides
covered with a sheen of green. These hills were once
the stronghold of the bloodthirsty goddess Cybele,
whose secret rituals cured Dionysus of his madness.
Theres a brooding wildness about them still. When
we reached the Turkish Aegean coast, all this
changed. The mountains became the dazzling
backdrop to a string of beaches and an azure sea. The
Ionian Greeks colonized this shore after the Dorians
invaded their homeland around 1,100 B.C. The
Ionians fled across the Aegean, and in the centuries
that followed Greek religion fused with that of the
native Anatolian peoples the Phrygians, Lycians,
Lydians, Carians, and many others so that the old
Anatolian gods and goddesses often took on the
names of Greek divinities, but with a darker, bloodier
edge.

The first archeological site we hit was Side, an ancient

Greek fishing village. Fancy restaurants, flashy
jewelry shops and boutiques are crammed cheek by
jowl next to the ruins. Touts called out to us and
thousands of other visitors who swelled the boardwalk
in German, French and Italian. Its a tourist gold rush.
In vain, Turkish archaeological authorities tried to get
the locals to resettle further up the coast so that proper
excavations could be conducted in Side. But the
villagers refused to budge. They clung like barnacles
to the old stone temples, and today everybody is
making a killing off the tourists. Teresa and I strolled
past the cafe-lined waterfront, wandered through an
Ionian temple, and peeked inside the ruins of a 6th
Century Byzantine church that has been converted to
a bar called Apollos Disco. Eventually we reached
Charlies Scandinavian Restaurant, which shares a lot
with a fenced-off pile of rubble identified by a sign as
the Temple of Men. Thats men as in menses, the
lunar cycle, not men as in males. Men was the old
Anatolian moon god, the plaque explained, and the
temple was built in the shape of a half moon, still
discernable beneath the overgrowth and jumble of
stone blocks.

Since the beginning of this search for the goddess, I

had always thought of the moon as feminine, a
symbol of the goddess. This was not always so. The
modern scholar Joseph Campbell says that across the
Near East and Arabia the moon was considered male,
because in its crescent form it resembled the horns of
the goddess bull. Its waxing and waning cycle
symbolized the death and resurrection of the
sacrificial bull-god. Tammuz, Attis, Dionysus, Osiris
all wear his horns.9 This crescent remains a potent
symbol of the divine in Turkey and all across the
Middle East, cast in gold on top of every mosque. The
goddess herself accompanies the lunar bull across the
heavens, appearing at his side as the morning star at
dawn and the evening star at night: the planet Venus.
In the Near East she was called Astarte, from where
we get the English word for star. Next to the
crescent horns she still appears on each Islamic
countrys flag. In countries where women have no
vote, where they are confined in purdah, married off
as property, forbidden to attend school, and may be
murdered by their kin if they are raped in order to
erase the stain on the family name, the goddess star
still flies as the symbol of the divine.

We traveled north along the Aegean coast, headed

towards the Letoum, holy of holies of the Lycians.
These were the ancient people the scholar Bachofen
believed to be a matriarchal society. Driving through
farmland, we eventually reached three temples in an
open field. One was dedicated to Leto, their Great
Goddess, whose rape by Zeus supposedly symbolized
her cult being taken over by the Greeks. A second
temple was dedicated to Letos divine twins, Artemis
and Apollo. A third, much older, was just a rough
stone foundation. Pottery shards date it to at least 800
B.C., which would make it older than any temple in
Greece. The identity of this earlier divinity is
unknown, but experts suspect the temple was
dedicated to the original Anatolian goddess of the
Leto cult. Who was she, we wondered, as we picked
our way through broken stone slabs. How could her
name be forgotten?

According to Hesiods Theogony, Letos mother was

the titaness Phiobe. Phiobes other daughter, Asteria
was the mother of Hekate, which would have made
Artemis and Hekate cousins. While its fanciful to
trace the goddesses family trees, it is true that
Artemis and Hekate do seem intimately related. Both
are associated with desolate and wild places, with
midwifery, and with dogs though for Artemis, dogs
were her companions in the hunt, not the graveyard.
In post-Classical times, they were both considered
goddesses of the moon. Artemis governed the full
phase of the moon, while Hekate governed the dark.
Indeed it seems the two goddesses attracted polar
opposite energies as the Christian era approached.
Hekate became the Rotting Goddess, drawing to her
all that is negative and terrifying, while the wild
huntress daughter of Leto evolved into the benevolent
Great Goddess, Artemis of Ephesus.

Teresa and I wove in and out of the mountains,

through a strange schizophrenic land of concrete
tourist towns and ancient mysteries: the Chimera, a
hole in the earth where once upon a time, fire
emerged. Labranda, the weird mountaintop sanctuary
of Zeus where girls were sacrificed on the altar of the
god with a labrys; Demre, the tomb of Saint Nicholas,
the original Santa Claus, with his church built on the
site of a temple to Artemis; Aphrodisias, a city
dedicated to the goddess of love, but fused with
bloody Cybele and served by her castrated priests; and
the sanctuary of Endymion, a male sleeping beauty.
As the Greeks tell the tale, the moon goddess fell in
love with handsome, young Endymion. She put him
into a deep sleep and hid him in the hills so she could
lie beside him every night. In this somnolent state he
somehow fathered fifty daughters by her. His temple
was a now-familiar half-circle shape, and Endymion,
it seems, was just a Greek disguise for the old
Anatolian moon god we discovered at Side.

We took a long detour down a dirt track to Lagina, a

clearing on a slope above a fertile valley. This was the
site of one of the two known temples to Hekate. The
foundations of the other I had already seen at Eleusis.
This one had been built by the native Carians. There
was no fence at the site, no ticket booth, no venders
selling postcards. Excavations had not yet started for
the season, so it was completely deserted. We stopped
beside the giant stone gateway to the temple, re-
erected, I supposed, since every other block and stone
was shaken to the foundations by an earthquake and
lay about in heaps of rubble. How suitable, I thought,
that the one structure resurrected so far was her
threshold. The air around was warm and something
prickled in it. Teresa said she felt a presence. Through
the temple entranceway, a stone staircase led down to
a pool, a poisonous milky green. Small water insects
rose up from the opaque depths and sank back into it
again. Its the kind of pool one has nightmares about,
about something down there, where the staircase
leads. Hekate, if she still lives, dwells at the bottom of
this pool.

A Turk in a baseball cap stood up from beneath a tree,

stretched, and thumbed two tickets off his pad for us.
He spoke few words of English. Nimble as a cat, he
led us through the ruins, pointing out markings in the
Carian script and here and there the sculpted head of a
lion, a floral motif. He gestured towards a twisted
grey-green branch lying on the rocks, and as his
shadow crossed it, it writhed and slithered down a
crack. Teresa yelped. Our guide grinned. Not
poisonous, he tried to reassure us. He led us to a grey
stone trough, big as a bathtub. He drew an index
finger across his neck to mimic a slit throat, and made
as if to pour his blood into the trough. I imagined it
filled with frothing red. Of bulls, he said, making
horns with his fingers on his head, of bulls. He
ended the tour at a clear stream that welled from an
ancient source, Hekates Spring. We thanked and
tipped our guide, then I went back to gaze once more
into the fetid green pool just past her threshold.

It was there, down deep, that revulsion I feel like an

instinct that says, dont touch! Dont dip so much as a
finger in that water! Something, something will wrap
itself around you, pull you in and suck you down.

Its not death that makes me tremble at the waters

edge. Its the moment before death, the moment at the
threshold when the living consumes the not-yet-dead:
the maggots, the scum, the crawling things that cover
the skin, decay that is life at its most primitive. Its the
knowledge that she is hungry for me, that I am prey to
something I cant escape, and when I look into the
green ghoul-eyes of her face, I feel the fear of it right
through me. Not the simplicity of annihilation. That
seems almost sweet by comparison. No, this is the
spider that eats the living fly. That slow consumption
by the septic force, dissolving and sucking, that is
mans fear, the fear he senses behind every womans
smile and stockinged leg. But we dont know it. Its
underneath, as if its frozen in ice. Yet we feel the
hatred that this fear arouses, hatred like a hot brand
our forefathers seared into us for a hundred
generations back: Eve the deceiver, responsible for
our fall from grace, the one who brought us death
disguised as lunch; or Pandora, the beautiful woman,
designed to inflict on man every evil released from
her unlucky box; Medea the witch, whose spells
transform us and destroy us.
What can I do? I reached down for her, as if plunging
my hand into this pool, up to the shoulder, groping in
the slime. Such revulsion entwined round the
feminine here, at the most reptilian layers of my brain.
It makes me despair. Hekates is the face I see on
Teresa in the throes of her dark passion, the sucking
jaws, the appetite for my flesh. The she-beast
unleashed, gnawing on my neck. I feel her starving
mouth on my body, sucking like the void. Succubus,
ghoul, witch, thing of the earth, consuming my flesh
no, my immortal soul, the thing of the heavens my
forefathers fashioned to escape her clutch. Woman the
spider, woman the leech, woman the parasite, the
maw, and this slow emptying of my vitals into her.

Why is it then, that when Hekate glimmers at me from

Teresas face, I hold her close, and long for her teeth
on me? Exactly for this, exactly because she fills me
with terror. My little self flees in horror. The shell
disintegrates, and in its place, I am. The darkness
arises in me, still terrified of her, but alive. Then I
notice that though she is totally possessed I believe
the strength in her could rip me apart she does not
hurt me. She loves me in some strange sense.
Sometimes in the midst of her rapture, I can let go of
her, let her jaws fall upon me, out of control. Fear
sears right through me then, as if Im scalded by it. It
is so intense, I have to surrender to it. All pretense, all
identification with my ego gets burned away. I feel
her consuming my soul, devouring my essence. Truly,
it is a death, and I feel as if I am hanging in empty in
space. No thought, no feeling, just the rawness of the
void coursing through me. With my rational mind, I
know this is not possible, this identification of the self
with infinite space, nor the sense I have that this
emptiness is alive and humming.

Teresa usually passes out at about this point. Its

fortunate for me shes never punctured a major blood
vessel.

Back at Lagina, Teresa touches my shoulder, softly, to

bring me out of my trance, says its time to leave. We
have a long drive ahead of us, she reminds me. Were
headed for Ephesus, where Artemis (Hekates
opposite, the bright side of the moon) had her great
temple. I wrench my gaze from the green water,
breath deep and break the spell. I realize I envy the
Carians, envy them for knowing Hekate well enough
to build a temple to her, for being able to spill blood
and worship her terrifying nature. They retained the
darkest essence of the goddess from atalhyk, so
many millennia back, and she still lingers in Lagina. I
lean in over the pool one last time, and long to see her
shadow.

1 Papyri Graecae Magicae, 4:2854-67, quoted by

Jacob Rabinowitz in The Rotting Goddess, p.62.
2 Hesiod, lines 411-452.
3 Homeric Hymns, page 129.
4 The very first smaller agricultural settlements in the
Middle East appear around 12,500 B.C.
 Unfortunately, these sites are in volatile regions
which I could not visit.
5 Ian Hodder, who for the past 10 years has been
conducting new excavations at atalhyk has
questioned whether excarnation was practiced as a
prelude to burial, as Mellaart asserted. (See The
Goddess and the Bull by Michael Balter, for an
excellent account of the new excavations.
6 Ibid, p. 288
7 Ibid, p.113.
8 Rice, p. 77.
9 Campbell,, The Masks of Gods, p. 58.

The Dark Mother

by Dee Estera Fisher

I am Illumination. I am Darkness.
I am the Titaness born of Mother Night and Cosmic
Ocean,
even Zeus yields to my powers
I reign over Heavens, Earth, and the Underworld.

Behold I am Hecate Triformus.

Maiden, Mother, Crone.
I am the Ruler of the Dark Moon.
I am the Keeper of the Cauldron.

I hold the keys to Life, Death, and Rebirth.

I am the Watcher of the Past, Present and Future.
I am the reborn Goddess Hecate, born of Hera and
Zeus.
I am the Mysteries of Womanhood.

I am a Lover, I am Celibate.
I am the Midwife, the Mother and the Barren One
I am the Shamaness of Visions, Dreams and
Nightmares.
I am the Healer. I am the bringer of Death.

I am the Protector of the weak.

I am Revenge to those of you who harm my children.
I am many things. I come to all who seek me.
You can find me at the Crossroads, where four
directions meet.

To know me is to know the greatest joy and the worst

sorrow.
I am Hecate.

Fourth of July Torchbearer

by Krysta S. Roy

Set a small rod aflame

And the sparks begin to fly
A mere childs amusement
Becomes a portal to another time...

I see myself carrying your flame

Walking to the crossroads at night
The fires warmth propels me
Softly murmuring your name...
The Moon is dark and hidden
But we know its still there
And on this night we honor you
Leaving offerings in your care...

My head turns to gaze at the stars

Bright across the moonless sky
And read in them a symbol
One of many ways you guide...

The shower of sparks brings me back

Scent of sulfur fills the air
The light burns down to a single flame
And into it I stare...

As it fades into a glowing ember

I speak your name upon the air
Knowing, tinged with wonder
I can find you anywhere.

Night-Time Prayer to Hekate Antaia

by Antonella Vigliarolo

Bright-coiffed daughter of Asteria,

Keeper of all secrets of the night,
Guide to all those who are walking over the edge, in
their small and great ways,
Take my heart in your open palm tonight,
Disclose the veil,
Bless my eyes so they can become Your eyes,
My soul so can burn of Your fire,
And my mind so it can grasp Your sacred omens.
Dark Queen, crowned with oak-leaves and coils of
wild snakes,
Ever-knowing, All-seeing Shamaness,
Cradle my dreams in Your dark womb.
Hekate Antaia
Hekate Antaia
Hekate Antaia
I give myself over to You

Hekate Found
by Scott B. Wilson

where one road

splits in two
did I sit and wait
hidden by a tree
as twilight faded
and darkness came
the cacophony of
frogs and goatsuckers
gave way to silence
save an owl calling
in the distant wood
closer and closer
I heard the shrieks
of a woman spectral
who I did spy
hunched over with
a braying donkeys
hindquarter
mirrored by
a leg of brass
polished smooth
and bright
in its knee
did I see
my own
eye
as she
passed
If this
is but
a scout,
then how
terrible will
her Mistress be?
maybe for
another hour
did I sit without
movement or
sound
twin stars
on the horizon
burned like
embers in
the sockets
of some
steel servant
forged by
Hephaestos
to tend the
gardens of
Olympos
but these stars
grew larger
and traveled
down the road
nearer and nearer
until I realized
that they were
the flaming heads
of torches
held by unseen
hands
this must
be She
and as I thought
the words
I could hear
those horrible
hounds said
to guard Her
every step
I knew this
willow trunk
and its weeping
leaves would never
shield me from
the eyes of a Goddess
who can pierce
three worlds
at once
and so I did regret
my boldness
and awaited
my fate
but when the light
of the torches did
reach me
night was lifted
from the spot
and everything
glowed saffron
where one road
splits in two
the Queen of
sea and sky
and earth
subservient
to Zeus and
Fate alone
came into
my view
a little girl dressed
in yellow tunic
curls brushing
Her shoulders
as She hopped
barefoot among
wide-eyed puppies
black as coal
tumbling over
one another
in play and
yipping as
She encouraged
them on with
gentle kicks
for Her pale
hands held
torches
much larger
than Her arms
Is this She who
helped the Gods
themselves defeat
those primal Giants
sent by a Gaia enraged?
YES, She answered
for She was in
my head
and from that
moment on
I would never
be the same

My First Time
by Holly Cross

I sat with my legs crossed

freshly bathed and perfumed,
wearing a light, white nightgown.
There were candles all around
and an altar at my knees.
I closed my eyes and began to breathe.
I dreamed I was flying over a beach,
along the blue green waters of the Black sea.
I met a woman there, standing in the sand
the wind whipping through her hair
and a black dog pacing behind her.
She came to me and placed her fingers on my eyelids
and they opened again to see the altar once more.
She was there, now beside it.
Standing before me, the Lady smiled
and the candlelight danced on her silver jewelry
and her dark eyes.
She stretched out a bangled hand to me.
Navy velvet spilled down around her arm like water
and I was caught in the wake,
being drawn to her the way ships are pulled out to sea.
Panic grabbed my feet then, and I found them on the
floor
between the beats of my racing heart.
I ran from the room and slammed the door.
When I opened it again, she was gone.

Hekates Devotion
by Shay Morgan

Blessed be the dark maiden

She who was born of the night
goddess trinity
reigning over the underworld, the celestial heavens
and the deep earth
Hekate, lady who walks in darkness
hail unto thee
guide of the Elysian fields
keeper of the keys of all the universe
guardian of the crossroads of fate
she who bears the blade that cuts the silver cords of
life and death
Goddess of ancient wisdom, mistress of magick
By the serpent who carries the wisdom of the chthonic
earth, I pray
by the black she hound who howls beneath the holy
moon, I pray
by the night mare who runs wild with lunatic
prophetic vision, I pray
Evohe Hekate, mother of witches
My goddess, my queen, my beautiful darkness
In thy honour, I burn this sacred flame

Hekates Deipna and Other Devotional Acts

by Venus Clark

Hekates Deipna are meal offerings made to Hekate at

the triple crossroads on the last night of each lunar
month. In its most basic form today one can simply
make offerings to her on this night, if thats all your
circumstances will allow. However the event itself is
much more elaborate and I encourage you to do as
much as you can.

Preparation

First, you should clean Hekates altar or the area

where you will honor her (this would be your main
altar if you use one for all the Gods). This can be
done earlier in the day or right before the ritual. I find
doing it earlier adds to the anticipation of the coming
rite and lends an air of festivity. Save what you clear
away because it will be part of her offering.
Depending on the substance it can be burnt in a
charcoal burner or added to the plate of food. Some
examples of things you may gathering in your
cleaning are dirt, dust, candle drippings, bits of cloth
or string, etc. Another part of the pre-ritual clear out is
pulling together anything left over from the previous
months offerings. For example if you made libations
of wine but still have some left over in the bottle you
should offer this to Hekate. Likewise if you had a
bowl of barley and used only a portion the rest should
be offered to Hekate. This process clears out the old
month entirely. Everything will be burnt or go into
the dinner.

For the ritual itself you will need an offering plate and
incense burner, charcoal briquette, and incense at the
very least. I also like to have a candle, wine, libation
cup, and an image of Hekate a statue or framed
picture (even one printed from the internet will
suffice). And of course, Hekates supper.
Traditionally the supper contains a sweet bread or
cake, fish (sprat and mullet), garlic, eggs, and cheese.
You can offer any or all of these as well as anything
else you feel appropriate for example, this is UPG
but Hekate let me know she likes black olives so I
usually include them. You should have everything
ready beforehand to use during the ritual. Most
charcoal briquettes will need several minutes to light
and then a few more minutes before they are ready to
use.

The Rite

You may start with a self-purification, such as dipping

your hands in khernips. Approach the altar, light her
candle if youre offering one, and spend a few
moments in contemplation. When you are ready,
speak some words of praise or a hymn such as the
Orphic Hymn to Hekate or passage 409ff. from
Hesiods Theogony. Ive adapted her hymn from
PGM IV 2520-2569 for use in this ritual.

If you have anything from your cleaning to burn you

should place it on the charcoal first. Then add some
incense. Pour a libation if youre offering one. And
finally present her supper. You may say something
like, Hekate, I offer to you this incense, this wine,
this (name each item) Look kindly upon these
offerings and accept them with joyous heart.

You can end the rite here or continue with the theme
of cleansing and purification at the end of the month.

Purification

Prayer for purification: Hekate, look kindly upon

your supplicant who brings you offerings on this day
as on many days in the past. Mighty Hekate, please
take the foul and filth from this place. Clear it of all
negativity and harm. This can be followed by
fumigating your home. Place incense or herbs on the
charcoal and carry the burner around the home be
careful, it will be hot and you may need protection for
your hands! Make a circuit that brings you back to
the altar. There you may make a prayer for Hekates
protection during the new month, like: Hekate
Propylaia, please grant me (us/my family/etc., as
appropriate) your protection and keep all harm from
entering my (our) home. For this I am (we are)
eternally grateful.

When you have completed the ritual, gather the

supper up and dispose of it. This should be at a triple
crossroad but do the best you can. In some
circumstances people are only able to place it outside
in their yard or even just indoors in its own trash bag
that is taken out immediately.

Finally, this is a good time to perform divination,

especially if you specifically desire to ask Hekate
about something.

Other Devotional Acts

In addition to Hekates Suppers, there are many things

one can do to honor Hekate on a regular basis. First
you may want to erect an altar in your home. This
can take the form of the ancient hekataia, which
should be placed either outside your front door or
right inside it depending on your living situation. The
shape it takes is up to you place it on a shelf, a table,
the floor, in a garden bed next to your front door, etc.
This is an altar focusing on her role as protector and
key bearer, so you may choose to decorate it along
that theme. Be sure to feed the hekataia with
regular offerings, no less than once a month but
preferably more frequently. You can speak a prayer
to her as you enter or leave your home, passing by the
hekataia, and may even leave a small offering at this
time.

Hekate is a diverse Goddess with many attributes, as

seen in her epithets and hymns. A good way to get to
know her is to focus on one attribute at a time and to
break the hymns down to small portions you focus on
bit by bit. I suggest a minimum of one week for each
but a month also makes a nice period and ties in well
with her monthly dinners! You may also tie this in
with the season or time of year for example, winter
is a very dark season in Britain and I like to focus on
her light-bringing capabilities as the dark season drags
on into February seeming without end. Some may
prefer to focus on darker functions in the dark seasons
and lighter in the light there is no right or wrong.
Find out what works for you.

If youd like to do something special to honor Hekate

or feel closer to her here are a few suggestions:

*Provide a loving home to a dog in need or volunteer

at a shelter. Dogs are sacred to Hekate and are closely
linked to her in many ways.
*You can care-take an abandoned or deserted place
whether urban or rural. A lonely stretch of river front
or woods, an empty city lot, an abandoned house in
your neighbourhoodHekate frequents these places
and because they are deserted doesnt mean they must
be covered in trash.

*Take a walk at night and focus on Hekate as you do.

You may try saying her name aloud, reciting a hymn,
or praying to her while you walk. Modern street
lights stand in for her torches, offering light and
protection among the dark stretches of road. In my
experience, if you take the time to notice, her presence
is fully palpable along the road.

Helpful Resources:

The Orphic Hymns. Athanassakis, A.

The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation. Betz, Hans
Deiter (ed.)
Theogony. Hesiod
The Goddess Hekate. Ronan, Stephen (ed.)

To Hecate
by Hearthstone

Hecate I praise, fair maiden of the crossroad,

you who see things hidden, who heard Persephone
as she cried out from the underworld. Hecate,
with whose help did Demeter regain her dear child;
whose torches light the moonless night; who guards
the gate;
who receives due offering wherever three roads meet;
yours, goddess, are shares in all the realms. Hecate,
who travels freely along all roads, I praise you.
To you, Hecate, are the mysteries known.
To you do women ever turn for protection.
To you do those who work magic pray for wisdom.
Hecate, ancient one, I praise and honor you.

A Prayer to Hekate
by Kenn Payne

Like the half waxed moon

You are both darkness and light;
What is known and what is kept hidden.
You show us the door, you give us the key
But only we can open it and pass through.
You wait at the threshold to light our path
Guiding, protecting, illuminating.
You shine a light on that which we refuse to accept
You make us see that which is not necessary,
To burn it away with your fiery brands
Bathing that space with the warm glow of your light
Your love.
Fathomless Goddess; you who burn, scourge and cut
away the bonds,
At whose grace we can know the secrets of ourselves.
Most misunderstood Lady who brings change;
You have lit my path,
Watched my back,
Guarded my door,
Soothed my pain,
Bestowed your gifts,
Listened to my prayers,
Shown me the way.
It is a long journey still ahead of me
But you are both within and without.
And I thank you.

To Hekate
by Emily Carding

Hekate, this name we gift you,

You who are older than names,
We visit you, in your deep places,
Your roots in the stars,
And ruddy feet
In the blood and bones of the primal surging Earth
and waters,
The brilliance of a star veiled in darkness,
And once more robed in light,
You are the maiden Mother,
And know our needs and our not-needs,
Which are stripped away
In the craggy rebirth of rock and bloody tears.

You are the many layered apple-seed that dwells

within,
And the warm light without,
containing too all the darkness,
It needs to grow into the tree of knowledge.
With your torch you guide us,
With your key you give us the power to choose,
To unlock,
Or simply bear the symbol
Of a path that is walked towards a gate unopened.
The third hand cuts away,
With sharpened knife,
All that holds us back.

We are left undone, unmade, unfinished,

With the knowledge of incompleteness,
We are given choice,
We are given voice,
And with the voice of choice,
We are given power.

Horse hooves lead us on a path of movement true and

strong,
Serpentine stealth may teach us ways into hidden
places,
And secret knowledge,
Dog-Wolf protector is ever loyal and full of instinct,
Not to be betrayed.
You give us choice,
And in the storm-filled darkness, you light the way,

Great Goddess, Dark Mother, shining Hekate

Celebrating the Deipnon

by Cara Schulz
Introduction

In Greek, deipnon means the evening meal, usually

the largest meal of the day. Hekates Deipnon is, at
its most basic, a meal served to Hekate and the
restless dead once a lunar month. This article sets
forth: 1) a brief history including the practices of
Hekates Deipnon in antiquity; 2) a small (and
necessarily incomplete) summation of Hekate as She
relates to Her Deipnon; and 3) some of the more
common ways Hellenic Polytheists celebrate the
Deipnon today. This article makes no claim to be a
complete, all-inclusive, or a formal scholarly work.
When possible, sources are noted and historical facts
are separated from opinion.

Hekate

The Titan Hekate, the Worker From Afar, was born

from the Titans Perses, the Destroyer, and Asteria,
Starry One, who was a sister to Leto. This
parentage grants Hekate dominion over oracular
communion with the ghosts of the dead while Her
cousin, Apollo, presides over oracles inspired by the
heavens with prophetic powers granted by Zeus.

The Earth, Sea, and Sky

Hekate, in the time of the Golden Age of Titans, ruled

in the heavens, on the Earth, and in the sea. Unlike all
other Titans, Her authority did not diminish with the
ascendency of the Olympians.
 The son of Kronos did her no wrong nor took
anything away of all that was her portion
among the former Titan gods: but she holds, as
the division was at the first from the beginning,
privilege both in earth, and in heaven, and in
sea. Also, because she is an only child, the
goddess receives not less honor, but much more
still, for Zeus honors her. Hesiod, Theogony
404

This resulted in Her keeping the power to grant or

withhold wealth, wise counsel, victory, good luck to
sailors and hunters, prosperity, and increases in flocks
and herds based on what She thought each individual
deserved.
For to this day, whenever any one of men on
earth offers rich sacrifices and prays for favor
according to custom, he calls upon Hekate.
Great honor comes full easily to him whose
prayers the goddess receives favorably, and she
bestows wealth upon him; for the power surely
is with her...Whom she will she greatly aids and
advances: she sits by worshipful kings in
judgment, and in the assembly whom she will is
distinguished among the people. And when
men arm themselves for the battle that destroys
men, then the goddess is at hand to give victory
and grant glory readily to whom she will. Good
is she also when men contend at the games, for
there too the goddess is with them and profits
them: and he who by might and strength gets
 the victory wins the rich prize easily with joy,
and brings glory to his parents. And she is
good to stand by horsemen, whom she will: and
to those whose business is in the gray
uncomfortable sea, and who pray to Hekate and
the loud-crashing Earth-Shaker, easily the
glorious goddess gives great catch, and easily
she takes it away as soon as seen, if so she will.
She is good in the byre with Hermes to increase
the stock. The droves of kine and wide herds of
goats and flocks of fleecy sheep, if she will, she
increases from a few, or makes many to be
less. Hesiod, Theogony 404

The Crossroads

So closely was Hekate associated with the crossroads

that a common epithet for Her is Trioditis of the
Three Ways or of the Crossroads. The crossroads
were viewed as places where spirits bent on
vengeance were able to emerge, especially on the
darkest night, the night of the new moon. On this
night, with Hekate leading the revel-rout,
accompanied by the howls of Stygian dogs, souls
could cause great evil to befall whomever they came
upon. As a result, She is described as a mighty and
terrible divinity, ruling over the souls of the dead.1

As the door of many homes opened to a crossroads

(the path from the home which intersected with the
street), most homes had a shrine to Hekate built into
the wall adjacent to their gate or doorway. Offerings
and prayers were placed there to protect the family
from evil influences and to ask for Hekates blessings
on the household.2 The members of the household
also sought oracle reading from the shrines. While it
is not clear how this was accomplished as the small
shrine was unattended, it could be that omens were
read there.3

Hekate is the Kores guide to and from Her Husbands

House and, as such, She played an important role in
the Mysteries at Eleusis. This is a crossroads of life
into death and death into life. While knowledge
concerning the Mysteries at Eleusis is limited, we do
know that those who were initiated no longer feared
death and were the happiest of people.

Beautiful indeed is the Mystery given us by

the blessed gods: death is for mortals no longer
an evil, but a blessing. inscription found at
Eleusis

This lack of specific knowledge concerning the

Mysteries of Eleusis opens the door to individual
theories. Hekates role in the Mysteries, in my
opinion, is signaled by the two torches She carries.
Statues of Hekate lighting the way line the walls of
the temple at Eleusis. Imagine you have died and find
yourself at the cross point of a three-way path. Your
life is the path behind you. Hekate is directly in front
of you where the path makes a V. Her torches, since
you have learned the Mysteries, reveal both paths.
One path leads to evil, the other leads to happiness
and blessings. If you have not been through the
Mysteries, you may be fated to stay at the crossroads,
becoming one of the restless spirits that emerge from
the crossroads to wreak havoc in the mortal world, or
you may stumble onto the path that leads to evil, or
you may be lucky and find the blessed path.

I believe this offers a viable explanation for the thread

that connects Hekate to the revel-routs of restless
souls at the crossroads and the Mysteries of Eleusis.

Purification and Expiation

Less commonly known about the Titan is that She,

like her cousin Apollon, could offer purification and
expiation for those who committed bad deeds.
Generally, but not exclusively, expiation at the
Deipnon was for minor bad deeds within the
household. One such ritual performed at the Deipnon
required all the household members to touch a dog,
which was then sacrificed to Hekate as a scapegoat.

Murder attracted Her special attention. She, and the

vengeful spirit of the person murdered, would inflict
madness on the criminal until he or she atoned for the
crime.

History and Practices of the Deipnon

The main purpose of the Deipnon was to honor

Hekate and to placate the souls in her wake who
longed for vengeance.4 A secondary purpose was to
purify the household and to atone for bad deeds a
household member may have committed that offended
Hekate, causing Her to withhold Her favor from them.

This was done the night before the first visible sliver
of moon could be seen, the night of the new moon.5
The new moon was the last day of the lunar month
and the Deipnon rituals allowed the family to begin
the new month, which they celebrated as the
Noumenia, purified.6 This differs from how modern
astronomy calculates the new moon, so one may not
follow a modern calendar to set this date.

The Deipnon consists of three main parts: 1) the meal

that was set out at a crossroads, 2) an expiation
sacrifice, and 3) purification of the household.

The Meal

The specific foods mentioned most often in primary

sources are those usually associated with offerings for
the dead: raw eggs, some type of small cake, garlic,
leeks and/or onions, and fish.7 The meal was set out
at a crossroads after sunset. Most families placed the
meal on top of or inside the small shrine to Hekate
they had outside of their door.

After the meal was set out, the person placing it did
not look back at it, believing the restless spirits who
dined became angry at anyone who looked at them;
those who looked back could be driven insane.
Although it was considered sacrilegious, and would
invite Hekates wrath, it was a common practice for
persons in extreme poverty to do eat the meal.8

Ask Hekate whether it is better to be rich or

starving; she will tell you that the rich send her
a meal every month [food placed inside her
door-front shrines] and that the poor make it
disappear before it is even served.
Aristophanes, Plutus 410 (trans. ONeill)

Expiation

As previously discussed, in order to atone for acts

committed by the household, some of which they
might not even be aware of, a dog was sacrificed to
Hekate as a scapegoat.9 According to the Merriam-
Webster Dictionary a scapegoat is one that bears the
blame for others. Prior to the sacrifice taking place,
each member of the household touched the dog,
transmitting all of their bad deeds onto this sacred
animal of Hekate. Once the dog was sacrificed, the
head of the family read the entrails to be sure the
sacrifice was accepted and any act of offense against
the Titan or the Gods was wiped clean. This ritual
allowed the family to go forward into the new month
free of pollution.

Purification
Purification of the household had two parts: 1)
fumigation; and 2) the removal of leftovers from
offerings and sacrifices. Fumigation was
accomplished by carrying a baked clay censer of
incense throughout the house and property. The clay
censer was then deposited at the crossroads or shrine
as an offering and was never used again.10 It was
considered a leftover from the ritual. Other such
leftovers included; incense ashes and the ashes from
sacrifices that were on the family altar, waste blood,11
and any remaining food that had fallen onto the floor.
Food that falls to the floor was never to be picked up
as it had passed to Hekate, who would redistribute it
to the spirits.12

Whatever is thrown or dropped is lost to this

world, whatever is caught is gained
Pausanias, Description of Greece I, 17, 3;
Aelius Spartianus, Hadrian XXVI, 7.

This suggests how the poor may have been able to eat
the meals without incurring Hekates wrath. If the
poor were able to snatch the meal up before it was set
down, before it was lost to the spirits and to Hekate,
it would be their gain.

All of the leftovers were deposited at the shrine or a

crossroads, preferably at the same time as the meal
since you were not to look back at it. Then the
household shut its doors and retired for the night. As
it was considered unlucky to pick up, touch, or step on
these offerings,13 I am uncertain on how the offerings
were dealt with the following days. The offerings
may have been left in place or the prohibition on
touching them may have expired following a set
length of time.

Current Practices

Current methods of observing the Deipnon mix

traditional forms of ritual with new. In some cases,
the new ritual practices are due to adapting to modern
life in a very different culture than that of ancient
Athens. Other practices arise out of differing
interpretations of Hekates significance. Some
knowledge has been lost and some history is no
longer intuitively understood. From what others share
about how they celebrate the Deipnon, there is less of
a focus on placation and warding the home from evil
spirits and an increased focus on making an offering
to Hekate and performing acts of charity. Sacrificing
a dog is currently illegal in the USA. Scapegoating,
to my knowledge, is no longer performed even in a
bloodless way. The element of expiation has been
completely omitted from the Deipnon. Below is a
sampling of what modern coreligionists do to observe
the Deipnon.

The Meal

This offering is one of the more common ritual

elements in current practice. Eggs, onions, garlic, and
leeks are still placed on plates and offered. Its not
unheard of for incense to take the place of food as the
meal offering.

While the make-up of the meal has remained intact,

the location of the offering often differs from
traditional placement. Almost no one has a shrine to
Hekate where their sidewalk or driveway meets the
street in front of their home. While many still seek
out a crossroads, others place the meal on a central
altar in their home or apartment for a day and then
dispose of the offering later. Others place the offering
on a plate that rests on a rock in a pool of water,
neatly bringing together the three areas over which
Hekate rules.

There is much less worry about looking back at the

plate once it has been placed or about vengeful spirits
driving one mad if not placated. Modern discussions
center on what constitutes proper disposal of the
offering the next day. Burial of the offering is
preferred whenever possible, but some place it in the
trash or in a composter. Persons who place the meal
outside say they have not needed to dispose of the
offering as it is usually gone by morning.

Cleaning or Sweeping the House

While offering the sweepings from the home is still

done, what is in the sweepings can be much different
from ancient Athens. No longer do we allow dropped
food to stay on the floor for weeks. People currently
do not have ashes from sacrificed animals, dog
carcasses, or waste blood in homes and apartments.
Stubs from candles used in rituals, ashes from
incense, and other previous offerings can find their
way into the pile of sweepings, which is offered on
the Deipnon, as this is a time when some Hellenic
Polytheists clean off all home altars and shrines.
Cleaning out a refrigerator or pantry is becoming a
common practice.

Charity

Although the purpose of the meal offered at the

Deipnon was not intended to feed the poor in
antiquity, current offerings of food or money to local
food banks in Hekates name are an expression of
charity designed to do precisely that feed the
hungry. Donating time at a soup kitchen serving
meals is another act of charity and goodwill done to
observe the Deipnon. Not only do Hellenic
Polytheists believe this is an ethical act keeping with
Hellenic virtues, they are giving in Hekates name so
She may find them worthy of Her blessings of
prosperity, wisdom, and increase. This is not viewed
as a quid pro quo, but a reciprocation of favors that
build a stronger bond.

Other practices are resolving personal and/or financial

obligations and emptying and cleaning a special jar
kept in a pantry or on an altar in honor of Zeus
Ktesios. Both practices are based on the same general
concept to close out the old month and enter the
new month fresh. That fresh start is celebrated the
next day during the Noumenia when it is auspicious to
start new projects and unspoiled contents are placed
back into the Ktesios jar.

Summary

Information on the historical observance of the

Deipnon is spotty at best and spread throughout many
primary sources, making it difficult for modern
coreligionists to obtain accurate information on this
important and basic household ritual. As increasingly
concise information is more widely disseminated and
more Hellenic Polytheists incorporate this ritual into
their spiritual lives, it will be interesting to see an
evolution of the continued rituals and also to see if
those participating find the Deipnon to be as fulfilling
and important as their religious and cultural ancestors
did.

1
Apollon. Rhod. iii. 529, 861, iv. 829; Theocrit. l. c. ;
Ov. Heroid. xii. 168, Met. xiv. 405; Stat. Theb. iv.
428 ; Virg. Aen. iv. 609; Orph. Lith. 45, 47; Eustath.
ad Hom. p. 1197, 1887; Diod. iv. 45.
2
Aristoph. Vesp. 816, Lysistr. 64; Eurip. Med. 396;
Porphyr. de Abstin. ii. 16; Hesych. s. v. Hekataia
3
Aristoph. Vesp. 816, Lysistr. 64; Eurip. Med. 396;
Porphyr. de Abstin. ii. 16; Hesych. s. v. Hekataia
4
Plutarch (Moralia, 709 A)
5
Aristophanes (Plutus, 594)
6
Rodhe, i 234 n., and references.
7
Antiphanes, in Athenaeus, 313 B (2. 39 K), and 358
F; Melanthius, in Athenaeus, 325 B. Plato, Com. (i.
647. 19 K), Apollodorus, Melanthius, Hegesander,
Chariclides (iii. 394 K), Antiphanes, in Athenaeus,
358 F; Aristophanes, Plutus, 596.
8
Cinesias, in Plutarch, Moralia, 170 B.
9
Hekates Suppers, by K. F. Smith.
10
Roscher, 1889; Heckenbach, 2781; Rohde, ii. 79, n.
1.
11
Ammonius (p. 79, Valckenaer)
12
Diels, Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, 1:463;
Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers
VIII, 34.
13
Petronius, 134

Charge of the Dark Queen

by Frater Eleuthereus

I am your master who rides the night sky.

three-faced mother of abominable mothers
light hunter, dragon Graal, the first witch,
ever-shifting all and none!

My power has no limits and infinite penalty.

Call me Diana, Lunata or all-gifted Hecate
it matters not.

You cannot help but see me, love me and fear me.
For I am the liege of all worlds
divine whore and berated virgin
bubbling and frothing in darkest dreams!
I will never be dominated,
for I am no spinster!

Nay!

Toy with me at the cost of your soul.

Be disemboweled or refined as I see fit!
Or embrace me...
And know wonders as you have never known!
Drink deep of my distilled abyss,
suckle upon my acrimonious blood-waters of salt and
wine
cry as you are reborn!

The stars themselves obey my commands

for I am the devourer and maker of galaxies
they are my cloak of fate
circling about you,
as I weave my beautiful and terrible spells
on Terra,
this world of men.

Rise,
look your mother-lover in the eye if you dare!
Gaze upon my fell beauty,
hold my hand and soar through the cosmos;
for my gift is the magick
that which will challenge you
as nothing else ever has done!

I was with you,

drenched in aching ecstasy,
as the first man and woman made love.
I wept with you,
donning scarlet armor and sword
seething in anger at the purple and red wounds
as the first man forced himself on his mate.

as you battle the detestation of this dying world

know that my magick will nourish you and guard you
all
once you were weak and oppressed,
now becoming the empowered and gifted.
as darkness menstruates upon the moon,
my face is revealed
and my heartbeat is yours.

Aoros
by Rebecca Buchanan

It was his knife that caught her eye. It looked like the
one that had killed her.

Cleopatras Fountain was one of Phoebes favorite

places in the city. Tucked away behind a small
market, around a curve and then around another curve
away from any major streets, it was always quiet.
Lovers occasionally met here, but most people seem
to have forgotten about it. The Pharaoh would have
been disappointed. Had she been the ninth Cleopatra
or the tenth? They all blended together after a while.
She had been so proud of the park when it was first
built; her gift to the city for remaining loyal in the
face of open revolt. Lemon and lime and persimmon
trees, graceful marble benches, and the fountain in the
center, now lichen-stained, a playful nymph pouring
water from a pitcher.

Phoebe liked to sit on the edge of the fountain and

watch the moon rise in the water. And only the moon.
The absence of her reflection had bothered her the
first few decades though she was rather glad that she
could not see the cut across her throat. This night, the
moon was a thin waning sliver. Tomorrow it would be
dark. The rapist would have struck again, then. Thank
the Gods the City Guard had finally realized the
significance of those henbane and poppy seeds she
had the wind drop, and tracked the rapist to the herb
market. He would be dead and his soul in Tartaros by
midday

unless his family could raise a large enough bribe.

Then the Governor would commute his sentence from
death to exile and he would become another citys
problem...and another aoross problem.

A small scratch of sound.

Phoebe looked up to see a cloaked figure standing at

the edge of the park, partially hidden by an overgrown
lemon tree. Definitely male, and quite tall. Phoebe
tilted her head. Probably here to meet his lover. She
returned to watching the sliver of moon, and let her
fingers draw circles in the water.
Another sound, a bit louder. This time two figures
emerged from the twisting streets; one moved with
purpose, the other with a touch of uncertainty. They
moved up beside the first figure, pushing branches
aside. Hushed whispers slid across the stone and
grass...a name...? The whispers began to jump and
skip, agitated.

She stood and took a step closer, then two then

stopped, paralyzed with memory at the wink of silver
and amber beneath the cloak of the tall man. A knife.
She knew that knife. A hand rose to touch the cut and
thin trickles of blood across her throat....

*****

The city had been young then, its temples shining new
in the sun. The slavers had come in secret, disguised
as pilgrims come to pray and make offers at the
Heraeum. No one had realized who they were until
that evening, when children and young women failed
to return home. Fourteen total, some as young as five,
snatched from the market or the temple courtyards or
their own front door steps including her own sister,
Cori. Only one little boy had been reclaimed, found
by an uncle in a port city leagues distant.

We need a protector, the City Council had decided.

Someone who can defend us from these threats which
we cannot see. So they had prayed and chanted and
made offerings to Hera and they were given their
answer in omens of peacocks and plump cows. But
they had not wanted to believe that answer, so they
prayed to Zeus and the Thunderer told them the
same, in omens of lightning and hail. Still, they
refused to believe something so terrible, so they
traveled to Delphi, where Apollons priestess, in a
sing-song voice, told them that another sister must be
lost for the citys remaining daughters and sons to be
safe.

She had broken her fathers heart when she

volunteered; his hair turned gray. Her mother took to
her bed and refused to eat. Her brother cried. For Cori,
she tried to explain. But they could not say good-bye
to another daughter. Even on the day of her sacrifice.

She remembered the knife, and the priest of Hekate.

He had been so old, his joints swollen, that his
apprentice had to slit her throat while the older man
prayed and whispered and chanted and called on the
Dread Goddess, The Watcher, The Walker of Borders,
to bless the city with a guardian.

And then nothing. Nothing at all. Until she opened her

eyes to bright stars and a dark moon. She was alone
on the acropolis, the doors to the temples all closed,
the priests and priestesses asleep on their mats, the
crowd gone.

She went home, but her gray-haired father and mother

could not see her, nor her little brother. The cat
mewed and hissed at her, though, constantly, until her
mother finally threw it outside. Being with them grew
too painful, so she took to wandering the streets. And
one dusk, she came upon the old priest of Hekate,
who looked straight at her and said The crossroads.
The crossroads.

The Goddess came to the crossroads that midnight,

with Her terrible hounds, and from Her Phoebe
learned what it meant to be an aoros; to weave wind
and water with her hands; to make the earth dance
with her steps; to speak with the creatures of the night
who so often saw and heard what men did not.

And she trapped a burglar with snarling dogs until the

City Guard could haul him away. And exposed the
healer who sold false medicines. And set the cats on
the rats who would have brought plague.

Her family died, eventually, one by one. First her

father, than her mother, then her brother and his
children. Each time, she caught a glimpse of the
beloved departing soul, wrapped in Hermes warm
black wings. Until everyone who knew her name was
gone. But she remained, aoros, sworn guardian and
protector.

*****

Phoebe shook her head, dropped her hand from the

bubbles of blood. Nearly thirteen centuries. That knife
was long lost, thrown away or buried. It could not be
the same knife. Just a bit alike. Not the same knife.
She took a step closer. The tall man bent, pushed a
branch heavy with lemons out of the way, and she
recognized him. Iason, son of Leiandros. He often
accompanied his uncle, Zenobios, to sessions of the
City Council. Zenobios was known to be a wise and
pragmatic man, and it was widely expected that Iason
would take his place when he had grown too old to
serve.

oolish, Aristides.

The shorter man stuttered. I am merely expressing a

legitimate concern, Iason. If the Pharaoh learns of our
involvement

He will not. The third man this time. Rounder than

the other two, and dressed in fur and silk; too heavy
for a warm night such as this. The Pharaohs only
concerns are peace and taxes. So long as those are
plentiful and timely he doesnt care who is
Governor.

Agreed. Iason gave a sharp nod. Phoebe stepped

closer to him, looking up into his hood as he
continued. Amber eyes. My uncle is the logical
choice to succeed Prokopios. Denys, is your man in
position and can he be trusted?

Yes. It took my last coin, but he has been well-

compensated. And he will be out of the city before the
Governor stops breathing. I assume that my debts will
be forgiven by the new Governor, and that I, too, will
be justly compensated....
Iason half-bowed. Of course. He held out a thin
blue philter, which Denys quickly palmed. My uncle
heeds my counsel, and I will speak to him on your
behalf.

Couldnt we just.... Aristides breathed in hard.

Couldnt we just humiliate Prokopios? Publicly?
Have him sent into exile?

He could always come back. Do you really want

Prokopios in the Governors seat? The man thinks
youre an idiot. Remember when he publicly
humiliated you? Called your design for the new
Heraeum as graceless and ugly as a drunkards
pigsty?

Aristides went red.

So now it is Tychons name which will be praised to

the ages. And what do you think the chances are that
he will award you the new gymnasium

Yes! Very well! Tomorrow, at the banquet.

Aristides turned, breaking lemon branches, crack
crack crack, as he stomped away.

Denys grinned and bowed to Iason. Tomorrow. And

do not forget your promise.

Iason bowed, too. Of course.

Denys turned and disappeared down a winding alley.
Iason took a few steps down a different path, then
stopped. As Phoebe watched, he returned to the park,
paused for a moment in front of the lichen-covered
fountain, and then tossed in a bronze coin.

Phoebe waited until he was gone and then went over

to the fountain herself. The nymph smiled at her. The
coin glittered dully at the bottom of the water. The
moon had moved. She looked up, arching her neck. It
was nearly at its zenith. She would be at the
crossroads at midnight, as She was at every
crossroads at every midnight.

Phoebe turned and ran from the park, dodging

between lime and persimmon trees. Around a curve in
the road, then another curve, past the market, down
the hill and down some more, around the old
gymnasium, then straight down the hill to the
crossroads. The citys original border marker stood at
its center, a triangular pillar taller than two men. The
face of a woman was carved into each side; they had
grown indistinct with time, but Phoebe remembered
them as they had looked new.

The sounds of frogs and bugs, and a distant owl. Bats

high above.

The city had been much smaller then. It had covered

only the acropolis, a bit of the slope, and the field
below, where grains and fruits were cultivated. The
marker had been placed here, at the edge of those
fields.

She looked over her shoulder. The city was much

larger now. It covered the entire hill and spread across
the fields far to the south and east. Not so much to the
west; no one wanted to build near the marker.
Offerings were still left, though; her nose wrinkled at
the sweet stink of decaying honey cakes and souring
milk.

A distant, fierce howl. Then a second, and a third,

four, five, six, seven, eight, nine ....

The cerberi were upon her, three triple-headed

hounds, nearly the size of horses. Each head with
black or red or white eyes and tongues to match.
Yipping, snarling, whining, they raced around her.
One cerberus ran off into the field, sending sleeping
birds to agitated flight. Another nosed around the
pillar, snapping up the cakes and milk. The third ran
right up to her, sniffing.

How they had terrified her at first. Now, she reached

out a hand and gently touched one great head on the
nose; white eyes blinked at her. The other two heads
whimpered and butted against her chest and thigh,
demanding ear scratches.

Phoebe laughed, obliging. And how are you this

evening? The cerberus whimpered from three great
throats, tail thumping. His whole body shook with
excitement. She laughed again.

Her laugh was cut off by a high, angry wail. Not the
hounds this time. Nine great heads rose up, ears
perked, looking back towards the east. And they were
off, one cerberus bounding out of the fields as the
three dogs took off towards the west, yowling,
announcing the Goddess approach.

Phoebe could see the torches, glowing with

promethean fire. She fell to her knees, head down,
eyes closed. Even dead, it was painful to look upon a
Goddess.

The light grew stronger, and the wails grew louder.

Angry, desperate cries by souls who had died after
living pointless, unfulfilled lives; a river of pain and
denial, and hunger for a life never lived.

The torchlight burned through her closed eyelids. Soft

laughter.

Phoebe, you are aoros, one of my favored. Stand.

Phoebe rose, wincing as she opened her eyes. The

Goddess could change Her form at will, but She was
always beautiful, and that beauty always burned.
Tonight, She was barefoot, a simple white gown
covering Her from shoulders to ankles not unlike
the sacrificial gown that she herself wore, Phoebe
noticed. Her face was that of a maiden and Her eyes
Phoebe blinked, looked away, looked up again were
the black of primal darkness, of the deepest trough of
the ocean; so easy to fall into that darkness. And Her
hair was alive, each strand a tiny iridescent serpent,
green gold purple blue, tongues darting. They shifted
and slithered, some peering at Phoebe, some basking
in the warmth of the torches, some hissing the ghosts
into silence.

The Goddess stepped closer, the torches which floated

to either side of Her following, bobbing gently.
Phoebe saw the puppy then, cradled in Her hands.
One over-sized ear fell over an eye. It was an ordinary
puppy, not a cerberus; a sacrifice left at some
crossroads altar. It has been some time since you
sought Me out. You have grown accustomed to your
existence as aoros. But I remember, for many months
after your death, when you could not go a night
without seeking My comfort and counsel.

Yes, Torchbearer, for which I am humbly grateful.

And I seek Your counsel again this night.

The Goddess was silent. The puppy whimpered and

nuzzled closer.

There is a plot. To murder Governor Prokopios and

replace him with Zenobios.

The Goddess nodded, once. Yes.

I am uncertain .... Prokopios is a venal, greedy man.

He has betrayed his oaths to protect this citys people
more than once. But he does not imprison the people
unjustly or take unwilling women to his bed, as some
Governors do. Zenobios, from what I have seen, is
honorable; he makes sure the City Guard is well-
funded and the wells remain clean. But, I am reluctant
to allow even an honorable man to take power in such
a terrible way especially if Iason will be whispering
in his ear. And what if Iason does not intend for his
uncle to remain in power? What if the Pharaoh in
Alexandria discovers the plot? What will he do to the
city? Will he see it as a sign of rebellion and send an
army? She twisted her fingers. Gatekeeper, I dont
know what to do.

The Goddess laughed, and the puppy whined. And

you came to Me for the answer? To be told what to
do? To solve your problem for you? The Dread
Goddess shook Her head. She set down the puppy,
which proceeded to trip over its own ears in its
eagerness to chase after a bug. You are the aoros.
You are the guardian spirit of this place, this city and
its people. You chose this, willingly. Thirteen
centuries ago, you stood atop that hill and swore an
oath to all the Gods, by all the Gods, by Gaea Herself,
to remain so long as stone stood atop stone, so long as
one man or woman or child called this place home,
and to protect them. And then your blood was spilled
beneath My altar and you were bound as aoros.
Willingly. The Goddess crouched and gently picked
up the puppy. I will not tell you what to do, child.
You must make a decision and accept the
consequences.
The Goddess strode forward, towards the west. The
torches flared, smokeless divine fire warm and bright.
Phoebe stepped back, off the road, into the field. The
ghosts followed, wailing and crying and sneering,
echoes of people old and young; they trailed along
behind the Goddess, pleading to return to the lives
they had never really lived. The Goddess ignored
them. Phoebe could only watch them, with pity and
disgust.

As the river of souls flowed away towards the

horizon, she heard the Lightbringer in her ear. You
are favored, child. I would not have accepted your
offering of yourself if you lacked the will and
intelligence to serve Me, and your people.

Silence, then, accept for frogs and humming bugs.

Phoebe looked up, searching for the moon. The thin
sliver now hung in the western quarter of the sky. The
morning star already glowed at the edge of the eastern
horizon. It would be dawn soon.

In the dark of early morning, she set out, back up the

hill, towards her city.

*****

Prokopios made his home in a brightly painted teal

and orange mansion to the north of the acropolis. Its
balconies offered a magnificent view of the temples
(the Heraeum, the twin shrines to Apollon and
Artemis, the temple to Zeus-Ammon with its massive
gilded statue, the partial Iseum which would be the
largest in the province upon completion). Those
balconies were filled now with chattering and
cackling and drunken guffaws. Artists and sculptors
and poets and playwrights and priests and priestesses
and the odd philosopher, sharing drinks and praise
with the dozen or so men of the City Council and their
wives and mistresses and the Governor himself. The
Governor was accompanied by one pair of beautiful
courtesans and another pair of thick-shouldered bull
mastiffs.

Phoebe wandered the crowd, trailing in Denys silken

wake; he was a dozen different shades of brilliant
blue. Servants, eyes downcast, held out platters and
goblets of delicacies and sweets. He sampled each as
he passed, burping in appreciation: baked spinach and
feta cheese puffs, roast lamb with garlic and oregano,
butter cookies, prawns, pistachios, and wines and
beers made from a hundred different varieties of grape
and peach and raspberry. She tried to remember what
honey wine tasted like, and failed.

Iason and his uncle were in attendance, too, on the far

side of the balcony from the Governor. Iason bent and
whispered something to Zenobios; the older man
frowned, then nodded.

A quick look around. No Aristides.

She turned her attention back to Denys. Did he have
the poison on him? Or would the man he had hired
bring it with him? Would it be in the Governors wine
or his soup or his food or his sweets? And where was
this man that Denys spoke of? Was it a (humble)
servant?

Phoebe scowled impatiently. The mastiffs growled,

heads dropping. She hastily put a finger to her lips
and shushed them. Prokopios dropped his hand to one
head; the dogs whimpered and settled back down.

The courtesans, dark blonde and strawberry blonde,

were laughing at something witty someone had said as
Denys approached the Governor. My lord, a splendid
banquet, just splendid. I am honored at your
invitation.

Huh. Prokopios grinned, a mischevious spark

lighting his eyes. Denys, tell us one of your famous
stories, and perhaps I shall knock a few drachmas off
your debt. Tell us that one in which you swindled the
Governor of Athens out of his favorite racing horse.
Prokopios laughed, and so did everyone else.

Denys face was tight, but he forced a smile. Phoebe

walked around him, circling the small party as he
stuttered an answer. I did not... swindle...the
Governor, my lord. It was a trade, and I was smart
enough to get out ahead. That is all. I dont swindle.
No.

Huh.
Oh, my lord, the darker blonde courtesan pouted,
youre embarrassing him. See how his face turns red.
Why, now it clashes horribly with his silken cloak.

Hm, youre right, dearheart. The strawberry blonde

on Prokopios left nodded. It would look so much
better with your coloring.

More pouting, wheedling. Do you think so?

Prokopios grinned. Not going to disappoint the

ladies, are you, Denys?

The latters mouth twisted. Out of the corner of her

eye, Phoebe watched as Iason and Zenobios moved
around the room, greeting a few other members of the
Council. With a rough twist of the clasp, Denys pulled
off the cloak. A polite bow, and he handed it to the
darker blonde courtesan. With a delighted laugh, she
swirled it about her shoulders and turned in furious
circles, the cloak flaring like bright blue wings.
Prokopios applauded, and the crowd around him
joined in.

Here now, dearheart, youre all askew. The

strawberry blonde courtesan patted and tugged her
companions clothing and hair back into place,
straightened the emerald and gold necklace and
earrings. Peacock colors. You are like unto Hera,
now.
One of the mastiffs barked, low and rumbly. Phoebe
looked down at him. A second bark, a thump of his
tail.

a slim blue philter disappeared into the strawberry

blondes voluminous skirts.

Well now, Phoebe breathed, not a man. And in

response to her breath the wind rose, pushing across
the balcony. The startled poets and playwrights and
mistresses bent their heads. Hush. Phoebe slowly
dropped her hands to her sides, and the wind settled.

She took a few steps, two, three, and knelt between

the thick-legged mastiffs. She scratched their ears and
they whined happily. Soon. She watched, eyes
never leaving the courtesans hands. They fluttered
and danced around the Governors head, his
shoulders, fed him bits of guinea fowl and lamb and
sweet cake. And when one hand disappeared into the
folds of her dress, Phoebe tensed, and the hand
emerged, the fingers curled tight to hide

Now!

The mastiffs leapt, teeth bared, fur standing straight.

The courtesan screamed as they slammed into her side
and back, crushing her to the marble floor. The crowd
screamed, leaping away, tripping over one another.
The blonde courtesan screamed and fainted, half
draped across a chair. The Governor screamed, yelled
at the mastiffs to heel, desist, stop!
The philter slid across the floor, disappearing among
trampling feet.

Prokopios grabbed one mastiff by the scruff of his

heavy neck, yanked and pulled. Guards were piling
into the room, pushing philosophers out of their way.
Phoebe raised her hands and the wind followed her
gesture, blowing hard across the balcony, knocking
over potted plants and sending lamps swinging wildly.

The poison. Where was ah.

Phoebe dropped her hands, slowly, and the wind

gradually dropped to a gentle breeze. Heads came
back up, hair and clothes in disarray.

What is this? Zenobios reached down a spotted

hand. Fingers thick with age closed painfully around
the philter. He straightened, grunting, and held open
his hand. Iason peered over his uncles shoulder,
expression one of curiosity. She dropped it. When
the dogs hit her.

Prokopios gave up trying to pull the mastiff off his

mistress and leaned forward, nose wrinkled. His eyes
darkened. Well, dearheart.... He looked down at the
strawberry blonde courtesan.

Perfume, she gasped.

Really. Disbelief stained his voice. He snatched the

philter from Zenobios palm and bent down towards
her. Care to wear some for me, then? Im sure it has
a lovely scent.

The courtesan was shaking her head, trying to back

away, but held in place by the great mastiff. The
second dog growled ominously and she stilled.

Phoebe cast her eyes around, searching for Denys.

The guests were moving in, crowding that corner of
the balcony, pressing shoulders and cheeks together,
straining to see and hear. Impatiently, she sliced her
hand and the wind cut through the mob; random bits
of loose clothing flew off into the sky, and a few of
the lamps. Even the guards cried out this time, raising
their shields.

Ah-ha. A rumpled bright blue splotch cowering

behind a gilded bench. She pointed. Him! she
commanded. The second mastiff leapt over his
companion and the prone courtesan, lips pulled back
in a snarl. Denys, one eye peering over his arm, cried
out and scuttled backwards, and ran right into the
bench. Thick legs spread wide, the dog shoved his
head forward, growling, pinning the frightened man
with his eyes. Phoebe grinned. Good boy. With a
soft breath and a gentle wave, she stilled the wind.

Prokopios straightened slowly, eyes moving back and

forth between the two dogs and their prisoners.
Huh, he said. He waggled his fingers. Take her
away. And him.
Guards, spears and swords and shields in hand,
swarmed forward, pushing the mob out of the way.
They hauled the courtesan to her feet, and she yelled
and pleaded with Prokopios as they dragged her
through the door. The Governor ignored her, watching
as Denys was yanked upright. The guards began to
shove him towards the same door, hitting him with the
butts of their swords.

I was not alone in this, Prokopios! Denys screamed.

He waved his hands, cringing as the guards beat them
back down with their shields. Iason! Iason, too!
Aristides! They were dragging him through the door
behind the courtesan. Iason planned to

The doors slammed shut. The crowd was still.

Why thats absurd, Zenobios nearly spat. His voice

shook with age and indignation. He placed his hand
on Iasons shoulder and turned to Prokopios.
Governor, my nephew had nothing to do with this
plot. Nothing whatsoever.

Yes, he did, Phoebe snapped. The dogs, gathered

once more at their masters legs, rumbled.

I give you my word, my lord. He would have nothing

to gain by your death. Iason is an honorable man.
Denys, on the other hand... well, it is well-known that
he is deeply in debt to you. Your death would have
been of great relief to him. As for Aristides, well....
The old man shrugged.
Prokopios was silent, eyes jumping from the older
man and the younger and back. He scratched one
dogs head. Huh, he finally said. He waved a guard
over. Execute the merchant and the whore at dawn.
He leaned in closer and muttered into the guards ear.
I believe that Denys still had several fine statues
from his collection left. Bring them over at once. The
guard nodded, bowed and departed.

Damn, Phoebe muttered, foot pressing down hard

onto the balcony. Beneath the mansion, the ground
shook slightly.

*****

Their heads were hung on a spear at the crossroads, a

warning to anyone else who might be plotting and a
thanks to the Watcher for safekeeping the Governor
(and his city and its people).

Phoebe glared up at the heads. She went over her plan

in her mind again and again, gnawing at it, trying to
remember every little detail of the previous night;
trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. Two
conspirators dead, one safe, the fourth gone in the
night, fleeing to Gods knew where.

She didnt hear the little girl. She smelled the honey
cake. Phoebe looked down and there She was at her
side, munching, lips honey-slick. Thick black hair
loose in the wind. A puppy with ears too big for his
head stumbled around Her feet, bumping into Her
legs.

Consider this a lesson, the Dread Goddess said,

voice small and sweet. A partial victory is still a
partial failure. And if the future which Apollon has
foreseen comes to pass...well, you cannot fail at all.

The Gatekeeper turned away and skipped down the

road, puppy dancing at Her heels.

Contradiction in Terms
by Allyson Szabo

Young, old,
Shy, bold.
Hardly known,
Yet known by many.
She is the Lady of Contradictions.
Hecate Triformus,
With faces young and triple.
Hecate the Hag,
Of later years, and magic.
Hecate the Companion,
Friend to Persephone and Demeter.
Hecate the Keyholder,
Who allows the dead to move beyond.
Hecate Gatekeeper,
The one who presides over the Mysteries.
She herself is a mystery!
Hecate
by Vicki Scotti

Hecate light my way with your torches so bright

Hecate show the way through these crossroads with
light
With your key open me, to the mysteries ahead
Hecate light my way at these crossroads I dread
Hecate light my way with your torches so bright
Hecate show the way through these crossroads with
light
Bind me with cord so taut, birthing me as I grow
Hecate light my way at these crossroads I sow
Hecate light my way with your torches so bright
Hecate show the way through these crossroads with
light
Hecate light my way at these crossroads I made

Daily Prayer for Guidance

by Krysta S. Roy

Blessed Goddess Hekate:

Please continue to show me the path Im meant to
walk,
And alert me to the choices open to me along the way,
So that I may fulfill my own chosen destiny,
And make the most of the talents and skills Ive been
given.
Please continue to guide me,
Through symbols and dreams,
Intuition and synchronicity,
And keep me safe and strong,
Healthy and inspired,
So that I may follow you, serve you,
And learn whatever you would teach me.

Please keep me under your watchful eye,

And your divine protection,
Lighting my way with your torches,
Surrounding me with a shield of light,
That I may walk with confidence,
Knowing that you guide me and guard me,
Now and always.

Seasons of the Witch: Hecate and the Wheel of the

Year
by Leni Hester

Over the past decade and a half, Ive been fortunate to

have Hecate reveal herself to me during certain times
of the year. Working with Hecate in a Wiccan context
(as opposed to a Hellenic Reconstructionist context)
has been very instructive and at times, challenging.
Unlike many deities familiar to Wiccan practitioners,
traditionally Hecate has no male consort. When
evoking her into Wiccan circle, I have usually not
called a God-form to accompany her; if I do, I call the
god Saturn who has no link to her mythologically or
historically, but who shares a similar energetic
signature (choices, limitations, potentials, and
change). They complement each other well, but it
usually feels better and less forced to call Hecate
alone.

I discovered early on that my awareness of Hecates

presence is dependent on the season, the moon phase
and even the weather. I usually become aware of her
presence in the weeks before Samhain. Sometime in
mid-October, especially if its a waning or new moon,
I become aware of Hecate awakening. Theres a
strange feral excitement going into Samhain, the
weather turning cool and the trees in brilliant color,
the deepening shadows and lengthening dark. The
whole world is retreating into sleep, but part of me is
waking up, hungry and audacious. When I visualize
her, shes running through gnarly woods with her
wolves, or shes an elegant queen holding court in
moonlit graveyards. Everything about her feels wild
and mysterious. When I feel like that, I know Hecate
is near and magick is afoot.

My Samhain observance always honors Hecate with a

plate of food, some very dark wine, dark candles, an
antique mirror, some cow bones, tree roots and a tiny
spinning wheel. I lay out her feast and a feast for my
ancestors, and I call her:

Hail to You, Hecate, Queen of the Night, Queen of

the Crossroad, Queen of all Witcheries and she who
parts the Veil, we invite you to eat, drink and bide
with us.
This can be followed by divination, meditation or
scrying, but I find it offends her if I dont clean up her
feast before I go to bed.

Leading up to Samhain, I try to do a karmic

accounting. I want to have my psychic and karmic
debts paid before we head too deeply into the Dark of
the Year. The darkening weeks after Samhain, as the
year comes to an end and fall freezes into winter, are
my time for a rigorous inventory of my life am I
doing what I should, what I dreamed of? Am I
tending to my passions and responsibilities well?
Have I made good choices, and if not, what choices
can I make now to correct my course? These can be
dark times, with regrets and sorrows coming forward
into the light of consciousness. Now is the time for
the dark night of the soul, when the phantoms of our
pain are so present. During November and December,
Hecate appears to me with a compass, and with the
roar of the ocean behind her, gales whipping foam off
dark water, the crash of swells against black rock.
This is Hecate as the soul of nature manifest in
storms, hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, lightning,
thunder all the forms that are dangerous to humans
and therefore frightening. In every guise her silver
eyes question me: What are you doing? Who are
you? And Im not always sure of the answers.

By Yule, nights have gotten cold and snowy, and

incredibly dark. I love taking a walk on a winter night
it seems so incredibly forgiving and kind. It seems
willing to help you with your burdens, to hold you in
a starry embrace. I unbind my hair and let the wind
whip through it, releasing what I dont need, clearing
out my energetic body, breathing myself full of
starlight. Hecate expands to take up the whole sky,
the dark horizon. No longer slithering around dark
corners or in the wild overgrown places next to
trimmed lawns or orderly streets, Hecate is the
immense, stellar darkness the dark Earth, the cold
sky, the gentle silence of snowy hills and icy clouds
receiving all, witnessing all, taking into Herself all
that we release, with compassion and gentleness. I
feel Her on Yule Eve in the role of Midwife to the
Child of Light, encircling the energy of the Mother
and Child in Her embrace, for all that is born into
light must pass into shadow; Hecate bears witness to
all the dramas of incarnation, with a face turned to
each road, with her clear grey eye upon each potential.

In January, the Winter deepens into cold even as the

light begins to grow. The cold drives me inside, and
drives me deeper. I meditate longer, sit in
contemplation more deeply. Information comes
bubbling up to me during divination, but I can barely
articulate what I find. Words become redundant, and
I find myself silent for most of the day. The Year is
in its infancy, and Im learning what is to be my work
for the year, what Im supposed to and learn and
experience, how I am to serve my Gods. In the cold
silence, answers come that I must act upon, but cannot
explain. Through dark woods, wolves lead me along
hidden paths that never fail. She appears to me now
in caves, brooding over her divinations as she sniffs
out the business of the year. She is the bones of the
world, the secrets of stone and strata and all the forces
that build the earth up and tear it down. She is the
wave wearing down stone, and mountains pushing
their way up from the bottom of the sea. As I sit in
contemplation, a chant comes to me:

Crone woman, stone woman

Claw shell bone woman
Lone woman alone woman
Dark mother star mother
Well river storm mother
Death Mother, Birth Mother
Earth Mother, Earth Mother.

By January 31, the light is appreciably stronger, the

day longer. Imbolc is around the corner, and Hecate
feels restive. She feels no love for the fructifying
Earth as she calls the world in Springtime. She
wants to retire to her dark cool places beneath the
Earth. I have read that January 31 was one of her
traditional feast days, and I have always felt her
disappear after that day. I serve her traditional meal
fish and pour dark wine and bring her dark
chocolates and the darkest roses I can find. I wear
wine colored velvet and light her candles, invite her to
partake of the feast yet again.

I write out the work of the year, my dedications for

the Imbolc flame and contemplate the waxing of the
light. I scry with a black mirror, or with water in a
tarnished silver bowl. Hecate slips into shadow and
starlight, becomes mute and elusive. Before she
departs I address her one more time: Hecate, Queen
of the Dead, of the Crossroad, of Choice and of
Change and of the Mysterious, I thank you again for
your presence in my life, for the lessons and blessings
you have bestowed upon me, and for allowing me to
serve you. As you retire to your secret places in the
cool dark, I bid you farewell and await your return
with the dying of the light. February 2 dawns and,
fair or foul, I feel Demeter ending her mourning,
beginning to smile, becoming again the gracious
mother, warming us with her love. Soon it will be
Spring and then Summer, and the Goddess of the
Waxing Earth will be demanding my attention. But
this evening is all Hecates.

Hecate remains in the sweet dark places of my soul

throughout the year, but in the heat of summer, she is
very reclusive. I can find her if I look, but during
these times I hold close the things she has taught me
to weigh my choices carefully, to speak truth, to be
accountable, to have faith in the cycles of life and
death and life again, and to hold myself a sovereign
being in all dealings.

Pale Hekate
by Jacinta Cross

Pale Hekate has come to the garden

called by our pomegranate offering
beneath the shadowed hedge.
Her hands rake a trail of death,
dying in a spiral
bedded into the earth.

In her wake the mint sprigs emerge,

luscious and renewed.
Green children offering grace at the feet of death.

Flower of Fire: Hekate in the Chaldean Oracles

by Edward P. Butler

The Chaldean Oracles1 is a revealed text attributed to

Julian the Theurgist, a contemporary of the Emperor
Marcus Aurelius (121-180 CE) and the son of another
Julian, himself styled the Chaldean. Whether
Chaldean here functions as an ethnic designation or
refers to the career of astrologer is unknown; but there
is little, if anything, to explicitly connect the Oracles
to Chaldea2 (hence, whenever I use the term
Chaldean in this essay, it refers to the Oracles, and
never to inhabitants of Mesopotamia). Though the
Chaldean Oracles survive for us as an assemblage of
fragments as evocative as they are obscure, the avid
adoption of the Oracles into the canon of Late
Antique pagan wisdom literature alongside much
older texts and traditions speaks to their compelling
appeal for those able to read them in their entirety.
Due to the fragmentary state of their preservation,
however, the modern literature on the Oracles has
been dominated by efforts to resolve the problems of
membership of fragments in the corpus, of their
proper order, and, in short, of making the barest sense
of what we possess of this influential text of Late
Antiquity.

This effort has been further complicated by the

necessity, for any understanding of the Oracles, of a
fairly advanced understanding of the philosophical
system of the Athenian Neoplatonists Proclus and
Damascius, into which so much of what remains of
the Oracles has been embedded; an understanding
necessary as much in order to disentangle the Oracles
from the exigencies of the Platonic system as to
illuminate it from the latter. The curious
interdisciplinary niche the Oracles occupied among
these Neoplatonists has also hindered interpretation.
Texts such as the Orphica were straightforwardly
treated as theology, in the sense this term had for the
Neoplatonists, that is, as a repository of information
about the nature and functions of particular deities,
but the Oracles seem to have been considered as
theology and philosophy at once. We can see this
from the Neoplatonists appropriation of technical
terminology from the Oracles for philosophical
concepts; in particular the term pg, literally a spring
or fountain, but used by Proclus especially to refer to
intelligible (supra-intellectual) form. At the same
time, the text was also treated like other theological
texts in comparative contexts, i.e., as expressing a
particular configuration of divine persons. This dual
status of the Oracles will be important to the present
essay.
As a result of these factors, the effort of grasping what
wisdom the Oracles may yet have to impart to us has
really not even begun, nor is the very notion of such a
project meaningful to those to whom, for their
philological skills, the interpretation of the Chaldean
Oracles has so far been entrusted. The present essay
can barely make a beginning of this process, but
hopefully can at least begin it in the proper way. To
begin in the proper way means, in my judgment, to
seek from the Oracles themselves rules for their
interpretation. Such a rule is, I believe, offered in
what has traditionally been considered fragment 1 of
the corpus:

For there exists a certain Intelligible which you

must perceive by the flower of mind. For if you
should incline your mind toward it and perceive
it as perceiving a specific thing, you would not
perceive it. For it is the power of strength,
visible all around, flashing with intellectual
divisions. Therefore, you must not perceive that
Intelligible violently but with the flame of mind
completely extended which measures all things,
except that Intelligible. You must not perceive
it intently, but keeping the pure eye of your soul
turned away, you should extend an empty mind
toward the Intelligible in order to comprehend
it, since it exists outside of mind.3

The fragment states that there is something

intelligible (ti noton) which cannot be intelligible as
something, though it is manifest on every side
(amphiphaous); that lies outside the totality or
complete extension of the system in which all things
are measured, that is, against one another and
according to common criteria, but flashes with the
application of such criteria (intellectual cuts, tomai);
and that is the power (or possibility, dunamis) of
strength (alk). Some of these aspects will be
discussed more fully later in this essay; for now,
however, I wish to concern myself specifically with
the sense of something, ti, here. The something
discussed in frag. 1 is very important; indeed,
Majercik, in common with other commentators, sees
in ti noton a reference to the highest God of the
Chaldean hierarchy. But I believe that in so doing,
Majercik and others violate the very hermeneutical
condition set by the fragment itself, thus in fact
foreclosing the possibility of making the Oracles
themselves operative, by treating the something as
something distinct from the perceiving of it.4 I
propose that the fruitful way to understand
something here is not as a discrete something which
comes to be known in a certain fashion, but instead as
whatever comes to be known by the faculty
designated here as the flower of mind (nou
anthos).

This something though it is not in a certain respect

something at all is indeed the first principle of the
system of the Chaldean Oracles, and was known as
the hapax epekeina, the single or simplex
transcendent, as distinct from the dis epekeina, the
double or duplex transcendent. It has been a
commonplace to treat these as entities in a rather
simplistic sense as the First God and Second God
of the system, and indeed, when the former in
particular is referred to repeatedly in the fragments as
the Father, it has seemed natural to personify them
both. However, the author (likely Porphyry) of an
anonymous commentary on Platos Parmenides,
states that some by whom Pierre Hadot and Ruth
Majercik both believe the author of the commentary
intends the very author(s) of the Oracles see fit to
abolish number with respect to the Father in that
they absolutely refuse even to say that he is one.5

There is no one identity for this figure, that is, it is not

numerically one, because its identity is established
simply as the object of the flower of mind, whatever
this faculty may be exercised upon, and thus primarily
as a mode of being linked to a mode of cognition; and
I believe that only in this fashion does the Chaldean
Father achieve a significance beyond the merely
iconic. Thus Proclus states at Platonic Theology III
21. 74. 7-8 that just as the intelligible Gods are
henads6 primarily, so too are they fathers primarily.
This passage refers to his technical use of the term
father to characterize a mode of divine activity, a
usage probably influenced by the Chaldean Oracles.
Again, Proclus states in prop. 151 of his Elements of
Theology that All that is paternal in the Gods is of
primal operation [prtourgon] and stands in the
position of the Good [en tagathou taxei] at the head of
all the divine orders [diakosmseis].
If Proclus remarks at 60K of his commentary on
Platos Parmenides about Ad and Adad indeed
refer to lost material from the Chaldean Oracles, and
thus identify the dis epekeina with the Syrian deity
Hadad, with Ad referring to the hapax epekeina as a
back-formation, it still would not alter the fact that the
primary reference of the hapax and dis epekeina is not
to particular deities but to certain divine functions,
viz. Majerciks remark that this First God is
generally described in Stoicizing terms as a primal,
fiery Intellecthis nature is also regarded as
essentially unknowable, (p. 138). A function, too, is
essentially unknowable as a particular nature
because its nature is universal, that is, its nature is to
be instantiated by whatever entities perform the
function it defines, and to whatever degree they do so.

Identifications of the Chaldean functions with

particular deities are possible, of course, especially
with regard to the dis epekeina, e.g., Porphyrys
identification of the dis epekeina with Yahweh
(Lydus, De mens., IV, 53), for the Oracles say with
regard to the dis epekeina that the Father perfected
all things and handed them over to the Second, which
you the entire human race call the First (frag. 7),
that is, because theologies accord to the foremost
deity in their pantheon the absolute primacy that
belongs, strictly speaking, to each deity in his/her
perfect individuality.7 Damascius states that the
universal demiurge (that is, divinity operating as the
intellectual structure of the cosmos)8 has a sevenfold
structure according to the Chaldeans, each of them
[the seven] being honored with the name of dis
epekeina and containing in it all that the First does,
only particularized in the declension into classes (De
princ. III 30. 13-16), elsewhere stating that the dis
epekeina is divisible into a virtually unlimited
plurality of intellects (In Parm. I 67. 24-5), or discrete
cosmic operations.9 Thus it is, in effect, the function
of the duplex transcendent to measure all things by
dirempting or dividing itself to become the measures
themselves.

But if the simplex and duplex transcendent are not, or

are not only or primarily, discrete divine entities, but
two modes of divine activity, the position of
apparently the only named deity in the Chaldean
Oracles,10 and who is moreover explicitly presented as
the divine operator of and the mediator between these
two modes of activity, as we shall see, becomes even
more important than has previously been appreciated;
and that deity is none other than Hekate.

Hekates name occurs in five fragments, she may be

discussed in as many as 66 others, and she may be the
speaker in as many as eleven fragments.11 An
especially important fragment relative to Hekate is
frag. 50, which states that the center [kentron] of
Hekate is borne in the midst [messonpephorsthai]
of the Fathers. Ontologically, this is interpreted, e.g.,
by Proclus (In Tim. II 129f) as the plane of psychical
being, as a medium between things that are
intelligible only and things that are objects of
sensation, between beings that are solely eternal, and
those that are altogether generated. Hence Johnston,
expressing a broad consensus among scholars of the
Oracles, regards Hekate as simply equated with soul
in the Oracles.12 But this is unsatisfactory, as we shall
see, inasmuch as the Oracles, while closely
associating Hekate with the soul, do nevertheless
distinguish them. Indeed, in Proclus own
interpretation of the Hellenic pantheon, the source of
life for souls is seen more directly in Rhea, while the
soul in its personal emergence is grasped through
Persephone, who for Platonists embodies the souls
descent, not into death, but embodied life.13 Hekates
special role in this process, I shall argue, is revelatory;
and this is prefigured in her iconography, in which she
typically bears twin torches.

G.R.S. Mead referred to the Chaldean Oracles as

The Gnosis of the Fire,14 and references to fire in
them are too numerous to bother collecting here. One
thing, though, may be stated in general about the
sense of fire in the Oracles: fire is never referred to
there as consuming or destroying anything, and hence
Chaldean fire is clearly the creative fire (pur
technikon) of the Stoic philosophers, which, unlike
the fire which merely converts fuel into itself,
instead causes growth and preservation, as is the case
in plants and animals where it is natural constitution
[phusis] and soul [psuch], (Zeno of Kition).15
Chaldean fire, then, is the very operative principle
itself, actuality or activity (energeia). Frag. 6 states,
probably of Hekate,16 that as a girdling, intellectual
membrane she separates the first fire and the other
fire which are eager to mingle, these fires generally
being associated with the simplex and duplex
transcendent. Hekates iconic twin torches, though
occasionally noted by modern commentators with
regard to her characterization in the Oracles as
amphiphas, shining on both sides (frag. 189; cf.
frag. 1, in which the intelligible object of the flower
of mind is described as amphiphaous, there translated
by Majercik as visible all around), have not been
sufficiently appreciated in interpreting her position
between these two dispositions of fire, in part, I
believe, because of the difficulty commentators have
had in seeing these functions as her instruments rather
than as divine persons. In this respect, Majerciks
reconsideration regarding the commonplace among
interpreters of a Chaldean divine triad consisting of
the hapax epekeina, Hekate, and the dis epekeina is
salutary,17 insofar as the tendency to treat this triad as
a trinity of divine persons has distracted
commentators from Hekates dominant role as the
sole named deity in the Oracles.

In frag. 6, Hekate is identified with an item of her

equipment, her girdle (zostr), in accord with a
principle Damascius explains with respect to the
processions of the Gods from their fontal (pgaios)
being to their diversified principial (archikos)
activity. The principial Hekate, e.g., emanates, he
explains, from Hekates crown, while principial
Soul (archik psuch) and principial Virtue
(archik aret) emanate from her girdle (De princ. III
38. 2-6), her adornments being the detachable
counterparts, as it were, of her limbs, the girdle being
analogous in this sense to her flanks (ibid. 39. 4-7).
This refers to frags. 51 and 52 of the Oracles, which
state that In the left flank of Hekate exists the source
of virtue [or fontal virtue, arets pg], which
remains entirely within and does not give up its
virginity, (52) while Around the hollow of her right
flank a great stream of the primordially-generated
Soul gushes forth in abundance, totally ensouling
light, fire, ether, worlds, (51). Proclus alludes to
these fragments in his commentary on Platos
Timaeus regarding the opposed circular motions of
the soul, the circles of sameness and difference of
Timaeus 36c, implying that Hekates girdle may be
taken as these motions (In Tim. II 260.28-261.3).
Whereas the account in the Timaeus, however, is of
simple circular motions, the descriptions of the
emanations from Hekate, if they are to be harmonized
with the Platonic text, would suggest one motion
spiraling outward and perhaps the use of peri,
about, already indicates something other than a
simple outward streaming while the other cannot be
literally stationary but must be either a circular motion
or a complementary spiraling inward, that is,
centrifugal and centripetal motion, ensouling with the
centrifugal and establishing virtue or perfecting the
soul with the centripetal.

The significance to ancient physics of the vortex and

other concepts from fluid dynamics has been argued
by Michel Serres with particular reference to ancient
atomism.18 Serres has an innovative reading of
atomism that focuses on the role of what he calls the
system of turbulence.19 Serres reading assimilates
atoms to vortices in fluids, similar in certain respects
to William Thomsons 19th century theory of atoms as
loci of a special type of rotary motion within a
homogeneous aether pervading space, with the
consequence that matter is properly understood as a
mode of motion.20 The fragments of the Chaldean
Oracles abound with vivid references to fluid and
turbulent motion. In the Oracles, the life-giving fire
furrows (36) and rolls up (38) into channels
(60, 65, 66, 75, 110, 189); air, too, is described in
terms of streams, hollows and channels (61);
and one of the forms of theophany is a sumptuous
light, rushing like a spiral (146). Indeed, it seems that
there is a common language of fluid turbulence
applied on all planes of being: All things serve these
three turbulent rulers/principles [archais labrois],
namely the sacred course [hieros dromos], the
course of air, and the third, which heats the earth by
fire (73). A common dynamics is also implied in the
concept of diverse ethers belonging to each of the
elements (62, 98) but presumably exhibiting similar
turbulence activity. Within this differentiated fluid
medium the intelligible Thoughts from the Paternal
Source are said to break like waves upon the
bodies of the worlds, borne around the sublime
wombs like a swarm of bees (37),21 the Sources and
Principles (pgai and archai) are whirled about in
ceaseless motion (49), as the seven firmaments of
the worlds are inflated (57).
Within this dynamic context, Hekate, borne along in
the midst of the Fathers as if in a sea constituted by
primary divine activity, establishes of and for herself
a center (50), a center which clearly must be the
result of an active centering in relative motion, as
Damascius comments on frag. 50: in terms of center
she [Hekate] is in repose, but in terms of being carried
she is moved, (In Parm. III 60.1-4). I attribute this
centering specifically to the contrary
(centrifugal/centripetal) motions of/from Hekate in
frs. 51 and 52, which are also, and crucially, activities
on behalf of the soul. I will consider further below the
significance of the contrariety of these motions; but
first I wish to discuss the elemental motion I believe
to be common to the two.

The enigmatic frag. 63 tells us that a single [or

unique, mian] line is drawn in a curved shape, upon
which Damascius comments (In Parm. II 101.10-11)
that the Oracles make a great use of linear shape
(tou grammiaiou schmatos). The term for drawn
here, suromen, is also used in frag. 34, which states,
regarding the birth of variegated matter, that from
the Source of Sources (pg pgn) a lightning-
bolt, sweeping along (suromenos), obscures the
flower of fire as it leaps into the hollows of the
worlds, while frag. 164 speaks of a precipice beneath
the earth drawing [surn] something perhaps the
soul, or simply exerting a draw down from the
threshold with seven paths [kata heptaporou
bathmidos],22 and frag. 70 speaks of the heaven
(ouranos), ruled by untiring Nature which is in turn
suspended from the great Hekate, pulling down
[katasurn] its eternal course, implying a constant
downdraft motion like the atomists eternal cascade
(or laminar flow, in Serres term) of atoms, with
turbulence supplied by the curving line corresponding
to the atomic swerve or oblique motion, parenklisis
in Greek or clinamen in Latin, a minimal
indeterminacy or unpredictability that introduces
creative chaos into the parallel flows of atoms
falling in the infinite void, and spontaneity into the
otherwise deterministic universe.23 The atomic swerve
is thus the turbulence minimum as well as the
minimum nonzero value for a curve, the line in
Euclidean geometry being a straight curve, and it is
this swerve I wish to argue underlies both of the
motions attributed to the Chaldean Hekate.

This indeterminate or turbulent motion, which can be

expressed by the minimum curve and symbolized by
the spiral, pertains especially to Chaldean Hekate
because of her association with the instrument known
as Hekates top or magic wheel (strophalon),
mentioned in frag. 206, but more properly known as
an iynx (whence the English word jinx), which gives
its name to an important species of divine entity in the
Chaldean system, the Iynges.24 Frag. 37 characterizes
the Platonic Ideas as whirring forth (erroizse) from
the Paternal Intellect in similitude to such whirling
tops, and Damascius states that The Great Hekate
sends forth a lifegiving whir [zogonon rhoizma],
(In Parm. III 42.16-8). The whirling motion of the
daimonic Iynges is conceived as a form of self-
motion: the Iynges which are thought paternally
[patrothen noeousi] also think themselves, since they
are moved by unspeakable counsels [boulais
aphthenktois] so as to think, (frag. 77).25 To grasp
this statement operatively, we must understand the
state of being paternally thought as identical to the
state of being moved by unspeakable counsels, and
both as being identical to the whirling or helical
motion itself.

The counsels or directions according to which the

Iynges are moved are not unspeakable as the result of
some arbitrary prohibition; rather, they are
unspeakable because it is impossible to express in
advance the value or course of the swerve. Here
Chaldean ineffability and atomistic indeterminacy
converge. Under the conditions of a system in which
the initial conditions determining various qualitatively
distinct behaviors are not clearly separated but are, on
the contrary, as close as one might wish,

in order to predict deterministically the type of

behavior the system will adopt, one would need
infinite precision. It is of no use to increase the
level of precision or even to make it tend
toward infinity; uncertainty always remains
complete it does not diminish as precision
increases. That means that divine knowledge is
no longer implied in human knowledge as its
limit, as that toward which one might tend with
 increasing precision; it is something other,
separated by a gap.26

It is not a matter here, however, of some arcane

higher knowledge, but of the transition between
knowledge as such and living volition. To be
paternally thought/moved is to be self
thought/moved, for to be paternally thought is to be
an object of thought in a manner that transcends
intellection itself; it is to be a unique, spontaneous
and, in the physicists terms, irreversible individual.
The gap representing such individuals in the
intellectual system or economy is expressed in the
Oracles by discontinuous motions like leaping and
flashing, especially as of lightning (e.g., frags. 1, 34,
35, 37, 42, 76, 87, 90, 147, 148, 190) and less often,
by abysses (e.g., frags. 112, 183, 184, but in
particular frag. 18: You who know the hypercosmic
paternal abyss by perceiving it).27

I have elsewhere argued for the reciprocal implication

of the paternal mode of activity and metaphysical
individuality in Proclus;28 what we see in the Oracles
may lie at the root of this peculiar doctrine, at least in
the terms in which Proclus chooses to express it.
Damascius emphasizes that the line drawn into a
curve is one, possibly with the sense unique a
unique curving trajectory for each self-moving helical
fire. Damascius makes special reference to the spiral
or helix just before he cites frag. 63, explaining that
(commenting on Plato, Parmenides 145b1-5) a
figure or shape (schma) is to be conceived in
general as that which is inscribed in an angle, even if
it is not closed, and hence the spiral [helix] is a
shape for us, as in theology, the latter probably a
reference to the Oracles (In Parm. II 100.22-101.2),
since frag. 146 describes the theophany of an
unidentified deity as being accompanied by a light
rushing like a spiral [rhoizaion helichthen]. But
earlier in the discussion Damascius refers to theology
in a more theoretical sense, when treating the supra-
intellectual character of shape, which he conceives as
the autocircumscription of a substance (ts ousias
autoperigraphos). Inasmuch as intellect, too, is self-
circumscribing, for it converges upon itself, intellect
possesses shape and therefore shape is
metaphysically prior to intellect. Accordingly, the
determination [aphorismos] of shapes is theological,
(ibid., p. 100.20-21), because in the Neoplatonic
hierarchical ontology, the theological is prior to being
(the ontological) and hence to intellect.29 Shapes
demonstrate their supra-intellectual character through,
for example, the presence in them of irrational
numbers and infinite quanta; but shape is theological
for Damascius also, and indeed especially, insofar as
shapes are the self-circumscription of substances, and
thus share in the intrinsic selfhood of that which is
prior to formal (universal, intellectual) being.

The soteriological framework of the Chaldean

Oracles, however, urges us to augment the static
reading with a dynamic one that emphasizes, not the
ontological position of individuals, but their power to
change their state, which begins, for the Oracles, from
the very material ground of manifestation.
Primordial matter, states frag. 173, is starry and
heavenly; hence if you extend your mind, illumined
by fire, to the work of piety, one may save the
flowing body as well (frag. 128), while frag. 97
urges us to boast of the harmony under which the
mortal body exists, and frag. 129 to save also the
mortal covering of bitter matter. It is unnecessary to
engage in the debates over whether Chaldean
salvation amounts to saving the body from its
infirmities, or a corporeal resurrection, or saving only
the vehicle of the soul, and not the flesh; what matters
is that whatever they do, the means of doing it lies in
the Oracles fluid-dynamic account of ideality, which
establishes a common plane of intellectual and
material process.

As a result of their inexpressible (self-)guidance, the

iynges are essentially free themselves, but they can be
a source of bondage in other things. Frag. 223 speaks
of entities that are drawn unwilling from the ether by
means of unspeakable [aporrtois] iynges, and the
presence of iynx-wheels in the hands of erotes in art
of the classical and Hellenistic periods shows that
these self-moving or ineffably guided entities are
most readily perceived in passionate complexes with
the power to subvert the will.30 Such complexes are in
effect partial souls themselves. Thus every soul must
secure its own freedom in a turbulent cosmos full of
binding and liberating forces, both of which have their
origin in the elemental freedom of the swerve-
motion.31
With this consideration the perspective of our inquiry
begins to shift, in effect, from the torch of ensouling
or vivification to the torch of perfecting or virtue.
The essence of virtue in the Oracles is, effectively,
liberation, especially from binding forces like the
chthonian dogs referred to in frag. 90, who leap
from the hollows of the earth and never show a true
sign to mortals, while frag. 91 speaks of a female
driver of dogs of the air, earth, and water, perhaps
meaning Hekate. These feral forces are probably the
same as the earthly beasts [thres chthonos] that
frag. 157 warns can occupy your vessel. There
should be nothing surprising in Hekates control over
binding and liberating forces alike, for everything that
lives does so by binding certain things to itself and
separating itself from other things. There is hence
nothing evil or vengeful about the actions of these
dogs, who occupy a niche in a natural order in which
souls unable to secure their integrity are subject to
attack from forces seeking to bind their substance to
their own. Indeed, it is beneficent that such forces
should be under Hekates control, because she can
always lead a soul out of whatever bondage it has
acquired.

Frag. 125 states that the duplex transcendent sows in

the worlds lights which are set free, and Proclus
states in his fragmentary commentary on the
Chaldean Oracles that every life [z] possesses
its own easily liberated [euluton] energy, (De phil.
Chald. 2). Understanding that the forms of bondage
are many, what techniques for liberation do the
Oracles impart? Frag. 124 speaks of those who, by
inhaling, thrust out [exstres] the soul32 and hence
are free. This simultaneous drawing in and pushing
out recalls the centrifugal and centripetal motions
around Hekate, and expresses the souls stabilizing or
centering itself in the cosmos. On the one hand, the
soul draws inspiration, so to speak, from the
symbols that the Paternal Intellect has sown
throughout the cosmos, (the Intellect) which thinks
the intelligibles. And (these intelligibles) are called
inexpressible beauties, (frag. 108). The symbols
sown by the Paternal Intellect, in accord with the
nature of the paternal plane of action, are significant
relative to each unique individual; hence they act
through the experience of beauty, the most subjective
of perceptions, in this way illuminating a path specific
to each soul. As Damascius explains in the discussion
incorporating frag. 1 of the Oracles, the ground of
intelligibility may not lie in an objects presenting
itself to the intellect as an object of cognition
[gnston], but as an object of desire [epheton], so
that the intellects striving is fulfilled not by
knowledge [gnsis] but by substance [ousia] and by
the total and intelligible perfection, (De princ. II 104.
20-23).

The striving for knowledge fulfills itself at last in the

object of desire that perfects, not merely the mind, but
the whole being, whether we are speaking about the
mind of a mortal creature or the mind of the cosmos
itself, that is, its own tendency to order and to higher
states of complexity. For this reason Proclus augments
the Oracles concept of the flower of the intellect
with that of the flower of the whole soul which
serves to unite the individual with the One, that is,
with their own absolute individuality, on the basis of
the recovery of which, and only on this basis, is it
possible to obtain direct experience of ones patron or
tutelary deity, according to the principle that like
knows like: as we apprehend intellect by becoming
intellectually-formed [noeideis], so becoming unit-
formed [henoeideis] we ascend to unity [henosis],
(De phil. Chald. 4). It is not a matter here of
uniformity, but of individuation, nor of dissolving
into the deity, but of authentic theophany, one-on-one.
This is what it means to apprehend by unity, unique
individual to unique individual. In this encounter the
totality self-perceives, for the totality is comprised in
the unique, since only an infinite determination is
unrepeatable.

Proclus explains that in celebrating divine things

the soul is perfected by placing before and carrying
to the Father the ineffable symbols of the Father,
which the Father placed in the soul in the first
progression of essence [ousias], (De phil. Chald. 1;
trans. T. M. Johnson). Individual souls, by completing
their substance through striving for the things that are
beautiful to them, return to the God (or Goddess) they
worship something that has proceeded primordially
from that God: the Paternal Intellect does not receive
the will [thelein] of <the soul> until <the soul>
emerges from forgetfulness and speaks a word,
remembering the pure, paternal token, (frag. 109).
This token is paternal by virtue of its peculiarity to
the individual in question; and by remembering it
and its origin in the divine beauty, the individual is
incorporated into the self-understanding of the God,
and insofar as this is a moment in the existential
individuality of the Gods themselves, the worshiper
participates in the paternal activity of the divine.
Proclus explains that the flower of the intellect,
though intellectualis apprehended by the Paternal
Intellect according to the unity [hen] in it, (De phil.
Chald. 4) for in the flower of intellect what the Gods
recognize is not primarily intellectual content, but
rather our very individuality expressed through it.
This is why, as frag. 13 states, nothing imperfect
[ateles] runs forth from the Paternal Principle, for on
the plane of paternal activity, there is no telos, no
end separable even in principle from each individual
who is ontologically an end in itself. In this regard, a
Stoic pun on the name of Hekate may be instructive:
Hekate is so called dia to hekastou pronoeisthai, on
account of <her> foreknowledge of <or providence
for> each [hekastos].33

The duplex transcendent, on the other hand, involves

self-reflection or self-objectivation, and thus is a
dyad or double (Proclus, In Crat. 51.18-52.3).
Hence frag. 5 states that the craftsman of the fiery
cosmos is intellect <derived> from intellect [nou
nos]. In more abstract terms, Damascius, using
Chaldean terminology to speak about Platonic
concepts, calls the demiurge (i.e., the duplex
transcendent) twice the simplex and the infra-
intellectual processions of the Gods as twice the
duplex (In Parm. II 132.4-5), because the act of self-
reflection essential to demiurgic intelligence, as
Proclus explains, quoting the Oracles, has a double
function: it both possesses the intelligibles in its mind
and brings sense-perception to the worlds, (frag. 8;
ibid., 51.29-30). The knowledge possessed in and
through the duplex transcendent is objective
knowledge in a very special sense, namely that in its
awareness of possessing thought it is the very
objectivity of its contents, which results, in a further
evolution of the divine activity, in a squaring, so to
speak, of the state of duplex transcendency into a
mode of activity that is twice the twice and identical
with aisthsis, or sense-perception, the plane of
activity of the encosmic divine processions. In similar
fashion, frag. 25 states that the Father thought these
things and a mortal was brought to life by him, that
is, a mortal qua mortal, ateles, for its telos is thought
separately from it. This progression of modes of
intelligence, from the partless, simple, and
indivisible simplex transcendency (frag. 152), to the
objectifying self-analysis of duplex transcendency,
which allows it to unfold from a dyad, to a triad
(frags. 27-9), or a tetrad, or a hebdomad, or the
unlimited multiplicity (i.e., infinite divisibility)
inherent in sense-perception, and back again, is the
cycle of manifestation in the Oracles.

I have spoken of Hekates torches, but another

element of her traditional equipment seems to have
been incorporated into the Chaldean system, namely
her keys.34 For Damascius says, regarding the
intelligible intellect (or all-perfect animal(ity),
zion panteles) of the Platonists and the third
intelligible-intellective triad, the perfective
(telesiourgos) plane of divine activity, that the one
and the other are celebrated as keys by the Gods
themselves (frag. 197; In Parm. II 99. 11-12),
attribution simply to the Gods being a common
shorthand way of referring to a provenance from the
Oracles. It is impossible to say just how Damascius
arrives at such a precise identification between
elements of the highly articulated Platonic system and
the Oracles, but it would be prudent to assume that
this precision means we are dealing with functions
distinct from the simplex and duplex transcendency as
such, though obviously related to them. These keys, I
believe, insofar as we may understand them through
their philosophical elaboration, are the virtues
corresponding to the two fires. Virtue itself, we recall,
emanates from Hekates left side (frag. 52), but it has
a dual aspect, just as we could regard the centrifugal
and centripetal motions as in effect two aspects of
ensouling, which emanated from her right (frag. 51).

The two primary Chaldean virtues, that is, those with

a cosmogonic function, are love and strength. Frag. 39
explains that after he thought his works, the self-
generated Paternal Intellect sowed the bond of Love,
heavy with fire, into all thingsin order that the All
might continue to love for an infinite time and the
things woven by the intellectual light of the Father
might not collapsewith this Love, the elements of
the world remain on course. The concern that things
not collapse seems akin to what is said in frag. 68,
that the maker (poits) fashioned things so that the
world might be manifest [ekdlos] and not seem
membrane-like [humends]. At the same time, frag.
104 warns us not to deepen the surface [bathuns
toupipedon]. Plainly there are conflicting
orientations at work, one which deepens cf. frag.
183, the real is in the depth [en bathei] where the
other flattens. With the motion of deepening go the
references to extension (various forms of teinai) as in
frags. 1 and 128, which refer to extending the mind,
an activity grounded in the duplex transcendent, for
frag. 12 states that the Monad is extensible [tana]
which generates duality. In extending itself the mind
generally measures things (frag. 1), that is, it relates
things to one another and associates them in the
understanding, thus deepening the world through its
supports for every world possesses unbending
intellectual supports (frag. 79) but when the mind
is extended to the simplex transcendent it has the
effect instead of flattening these supports and opening
up channels of turbulence (association?) across the
planes that are ordinarily distinct. In this way we
perceive the shape of light which has been stretched
forth [protatheisan], (frag. 145) in the worlds
inflation (frag. 57).

But this flattening is not like seeing through an

illusion; instead, it is what prevents the paternal
works from collapse, because it liberates the creative
fire which is in the control of all self-moving beings.
Thus frag. 42 speaks of Love which leapt first from
Intellect, clothing his fire with the bonded
[sundesmion] fire in order to mingle the fontal cups
[pgaious kratras] while offering the flower of his
fire.35 These fontal cups or source kraters are
pre-intellectual forms mingled or rearranged in the
bonds created by worldly entities when they take up
their agency in recognition of one another. Hence the
soul is said to be filled with a deep love [erti
bathei] (frag. 43), because in forming bonds it
creates new depths, which are at once worldly
supports and counterworldly abysses. This movement
of eros is, I believe, the thrusting forth of the soul
that frag. 124 described as simultaneous with
inhaling or inspiration in those who are free.

This is the Chaldean virtue of love; as for the other

key, the virtue of strength, we read in frag. 1 that the
object of the flower of mind is the dunamis alks,
which Majercik translates, rather redundantly, as the
power of strength. To avoid the redundancy, we can
read dunamis instead as potentiality or possibility,
and understand the simplex transcendent as the
precondition for that which the Oracles term
strength. Frags. 49 speaks of the strength of the
Father from which the flower of the mind is
plucked so as to keep the Sources and Principles
(pgai and archai) whirling about in ceaseless
motion; frag. 82 explains that this strength infuses
the Connectors, sunocheis, Gods presiding over the
establishment of the transverse planes or channels I
have characterized as being produced through the
flattening motion. Strength, then, is what
maintains motion and keeps the diverse planes of
action in communication, and it is peculiarly
associated with the possession of a symbol or
revelation. Frag. 118 explains that some apprehend
the symbol of light through instruction while others
are fructified with their own strength while they are
sleeping, that is, through receiving dream symbols;
frag. 117, likewise, speaks of those saved through
their own strength, who are characterized by Proclus
as the more vigorous and inventive natures (In
Alc. 82/177), while frag. 2 urges one arrayed from
head to toe with a clamorous light, armed in mind and
soul with a triple-barbed strength to go toward the
empyrean channelswith concentration, by casting
into your imagination the entire token of the triad.
The triad in question is none other than the triple-
barbed strength granted by possession of a token,
sunthma, a personal, we might even say
idiosyncratic revelation that arms the theurgist for the
cosmogonic work demanded of them. It is a triad
because, as frag. 27 states, in every world shines a
triad, ruled by a Monad, for this is the elemental
structure of manifestation, the triangle being the
minimum enclosed figure, as opposed to the spiral,
the minimal open figure in the Chaldean system
according to Damascius. Armed with this token, the
theurgist is charged, literally, with reinventing the
world.

Conclusion
When we reach out with the flower of mind and
recognize the uniqueness of things, the Gods reach
back to us through the flower of the entire soul, which
is the whole essence of the center and of all the
diverse powers around it, the unity upon which all
the psychical powers converge, which alone
naturally leads us to that which is beyond all beings,
(De phil. Chald. 4). This systole and diastole of
enlightenment is Hekates work, for she performs in
and from herself the centrifugal motion of
vivification, the primary procession from the simplex
transcendent, which is freedom with the power to
bind, and the centripetal motion of perfection, the
return of the bound intellectual and symbolic
structure of the cosmos to its free and erotic origins,
which is liberation through the duplex transcendent.
By virtue of these reciprocal motions, Hekate is
responsible for the souls dynamical centering on the
paternal plane of primary, or individuating, activity.

Excursus: Hekate in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter

The activities of the Chaldean Hekate can be

understood as an intensive meditation upon and
elaboration of Hekates actions in the Homeric Hymn
to Demeter, which fall into three stages:

1. (HHD 22-5): Hekate, described as Perses

daughter still innocent of heart [atala phroneousa],
hears Persephones cries from her cave [ex antrou],
as does Helios.

Here, Hekate is quiescent, but responds to the voice

of the soul descending to embodiment, to which
compare the lifegiving whir or hum (rhoizma)
with which Damascius associates Hekate (In Parm. III
42.18).

2. (51-61): On the tenth day [dekat] of her search,

Demeter meets Hekate with a light in her hand [selas
en cheiressin echousa] and tells her what she heard.
Demeter runs with her with burning torches in her
hands to Helios, who saw the events.

The numbers ten and four (the ten being the

expansion of four, 1+2+3+4) are spoken of as key-
bearers, kleidouchoi in the pseudo-Iamblichean
Theology of Arithmetic (28.13, 81.14 de Falco), this
being an epithet of Hekates as well. The text refers
first to Hekates single light at first, but then to
Demeters twin torches, as they run back to Helios to
retrieve the vision. Thus, at the furthest limits of the
centrifugal motion, the centripetal motion of virtue
(keys) comes into play.

3. (438-440): Hekate, described as at 25 as of the

glossy veil [liparokrdemnos], embraces Persephone
on her return, and the mistress [anassa] becomes
Persephones attendant and servant [propolos kai
opan].
At the beginning and the end of the sequence, Hekate
is veiled, as when the world is rendered flat or
membrane-like [humends] (frag. 68). In
embracing Persephone on her return, that is, the soul
upon its liberation from self-imposed bondage,
Hekate is acknowledged as Mistress, and assumes a
role of guide and helper to the soul in its future
transformations (ascents and descents).
1
Throughout this essay I shall use the simpler
spelling Chaldean rather than Chaldaean, more
correct but slightly off-putting to the English
readers eye.
2
See, however, Polymnia Athanassiadi, Apamea and
the Chaldaean Oracles : A Holy
City and a Holy Book, in The Philosopher and
Society in Late Antiquity :
Essays in Honour of Peter Brown, ed. Andrew
Smith (Swansea: Classical Press of Wales, 2005),
pp. 117-143, which argues for a link between the
Oracles and the temple of Bel in Apamea, which
had a tradition of oracular production as well as a
thriving Hellenistic philosophical culture.
3
Unless otherwise noted, all translations of Oracle
fragments are by Ruth Majercik, The Chaldean
Oracles: Text, Translation, and Commentary
(Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1989).
4
Cf. frag. 20, For Intellect does not exist without the
intelligible, and the intelligible does not exist apart
from Intellect.
5
Ruth Majercik, Chaldean Triads in Neoplatonic
Exegesis: Some Reconsiderations, The Classical
 Quarterly, Vol. 51, No. 1 (2001), p. 266f (on the
identity of the some referred to here, see also
Majercik, The Chaldean Oracles and the School of
Plotinus, The Ancient World Vol. 29 (1998), 103f,
with refs. to Hadot, n. 80). Majercik interprets the
abolition of number here as coming about purely
through the identification of the Chaldean Father
with the Platonic One, which is not one; I would
claim rather that there is a convergence here
between Platonic doctrine and a doctrine
legitimately deriving from the Oracleswhich is
not inconsistent with its presence there being due to
the influence of earlier Platonic speculation,
especially that concerning the characterization of the
Platonic demiurge as maker and father of the
cosmic order at Timaeus 28c.
6
Henads: existentially unique individuals. For
Proclus doctrine of henads, see my article
Polytheism and Individuality in the Henadic
Manifold, Dionysius, Vol. 23, 2005, pp. 83-103.
On the Intelligible Gods specifically, see The
Intelligible Gods in the Platonic Theology of
Proclus, Mthexis 21, 2008, pp. 131-143.
7
On these matters, see my Polycentric Polytheism
and the Philosophy of Religion, The Pomegranate
10.2 (2008), esp. pp. 222ff.
8
On the nature of the Platonic demiurge, see Eric
Perl, The Demiurge and the Forms: A Return to the
Ancient Interpretation of Platos Timaeus, Ancient
Philosophy 18 (1998), pp. 81-92.
9
Citations of Damascius are to volume, page and line
number of Damascius: Trait des premiers
 principes, ed. L. G. Westerink and trans. Joseph
Combs, 3 vols. (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1986-
1991) [De princ.], and Damascius: Commentaire du
Parmnide de Platon, ed. L. G. Westerink and trans.
J. Combs, with the collaboration of A.-P. Segonds,
4 vols. (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1997-2003) [In
Parm.].
10
Either Rheas appearance in frag. 56, or the
fragments membership in the corpus, is
controversial (see Majercik, p. 165 and Chaldean
Triads, p. 291-4), and the connection of Atlas to
frag. 6 doubtful. Zeus appears in frs. 215 and 218,
but neither of these are likely to belong to the
Oracles.
11
Reckoning according to Sarah Iles Johnston, Hekate
Soteira: A Study of Hekates Roles in the Chaldean
Oracles and Related Literature (Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1990), 1f.
12
Johnston, Hekate Soteira, pp. 153-163.
13
For the Platonic interpretation of Persephone, see
Thomas Taylor, A Dissertation on the Eleusinian
and Bacchic Mysteries (1790). For Hekates role in
the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, see the Excursus at
the end of this essay.
14
The Chaldaean Oracles (Echoes from the Gnosis
Vol. VIII), p. 20.
15
Stobaeus 1.213, 15-21 (SVF 1.120; Long & Sedley,
Hellenistic Philosophers, 46D).
16
This being the judgment of Majercik (p. 143) and
Johnston (Hekate Soteira, p. 53). Simplicius quotes
this fragment with reference to Atlas, but this seems
to be a comparison rather than an identification.
17
Chaldean Triads in Neoplatonic Exegesis: Some
Reconsiderations, esp. pp. 286-296.
18
For an introduction to Serres work in English, see
the essays in Hermes: Literature, Science,
Philosophy, ed. Josu V. Harari and David F. Bell
(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1982).
19
Michel Serres and Bruno Latour, Conversations on
Science, Culture, and Time, trans. Roxanne Lapidus
(Ann Arbor: Univ. of Michigan Press, 1995), p. 54.
20
Robert H. Silliman, William Thomson: Smoke
Rings and Nineteenth-Century Atomism, Isis, Vol.
54, No. 4 (Dec., 1963), p. 461.
21
Trans. mod.
22
Trans. mod.
23
See Ilya Prigogines and Isabelle Stengers
Postface: Dynamics from Leibniz to Lucretius, pp.
137-155 in Hermes, op cit.
24
On the iynx in relation to the Oracles, see Chap. VII
in Johnston, Hekate Soteira; for the general use of
this and similar instruments in ancient magic, see A.
S. F. Gow, Iygx, Rombos, Rhombus, Turbo,
Journal of Hellenic Studies, Vol. 54, Part 1 (1934),
pp. 1-13.
25
Trans. mod.
26
Prigogine and Stengers, op cit., 151f. Contrast this
with Lewy, The Chaldean Oracles and Theurgy,
who attributes to Hekate two different sorts of
motion: In the region of the stars the action of
ensouling produces regular motion, which in the
absence of a contrary force bears the character of
pure necessity, while in the hylic world, where
Spirit is opposed to Matter the demonic satellites
 of the latter are active, (p. 98). In my interpretation,
free motion is characteristic of Hekates activity
both on the higher and the lower planes.
27
Note also, with respect to the parallels I have drawn
here between the Oracles and ancient atomism, that
frag. 183, the real is in the depth [to datrekes en
bathei esti] virtually quotes verbatim Democritus,
frag. 117 (Diels), for truth is in the depths [en
buthi gar h altheia].
28
See The Intelligible Gods in the Platonic Theology
of Proclus.
29
The hypostasis of Being is functionally duplex
insofar as it is passive with respect to the Gods, who
are prior to it, active with respect to Intellect, which
is posterior to it. In this regard it is not uncommon,
since Being is the first genuine hypostasisthe One
neither is, nor is oneto split Being into its divine
and intellectual moments. Thus Proclus explains at
PT III 21. 74f the equivocations by means of which
Plato himself and his most genuine disciples
frequently call all [true] beings intellect, while the
henads or Gods are frequently called intelligibles,
as the ultimate causes of intellectual structure, and
beings are called intelligible intellects, as structures
accessible to intellectual analysis. For more on the
status of Being, see my The Gods and Being in
Proclus, Dionysius, Vol. 26, 2008, pp. 93-114.
30
See Sarah Iles Johnston, The Song of the Iynx:
Magic and Rhetoric in Pythian 4, Transactions of
the American Philological Association, Vol. 125
(1995), pp. 177-206.
31
Cf. the still unsurpassed account by Giordano Bruno
in his 1588 essay De Vinculis in genere (A General
Account of Bonding), trans. Richard J. Blackwell
in Cause, Principle and Unity and Essays on Magic
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp.
143-176.
32
Trans. mod.
33
SVF II 930.
34
On Hekate as kleidouchos, or keybearer, see
Johnston, Hekate Soteira, pp. 39-48.
35
Trans. mod.

Prayer to Hekate
by Rebecca Buchanan

Hekate
Dark Serpent
Who feasts on the dead
the rotten
the fetid
Feast on me
Feast on all that is putrid in me
the crippling fear
the destructive anger
the hatred of self and others
Make me new again
pure
like the snake
reborn

(After a hymn to Hekate in the Greek Magical Papyri)

Trivia
by Sannion

Artemesia shivered and wished that she had brought

the other wrap with her, the thick woolen one that her
mother wove for her as a present on her wedding day.
It was gaily colored, dyed a rich purple-red, and it had
strong associations that didnt seem appropriate for
what she had come to this place to do tonight. Instead
she chose the simple white linen one that reminded
her of a corpses burial shroud, and she shivered in the
chill Alexandrian night.

Even though shed been in the city for several years

now, she still wasnt used to the difference in
temperature. Shed been born in Antinoopolis, in the
heart of the Egyptian countryside, far from the
Mediterranean and its cool trade winds. Alexandria
might as well have been a different country
altogether, and the weather was only one of the
jarringly different things about it. There were also the
people a million of them, crowding the streets by
day and celebrating all through the night. It seemed
that they never slept, these riotous, lecherous, drunken
people from a hundred different countries. At all
hours you could hear them hawking their wares down
by the dock-side or staggering home from a party with
a broken garland-crown around their neck and some
wine-sotted bawdy song upon their lips. Half the time
you couldnt even tell what they were singing: Greek
vied with Latin or Aramaic or some other barbarous
tongue from a foreign boat docked in the harbor. Of
course you didnt need to know what language they
spoke when they stopped you on the street and made
lewd advances as if you were some wanton whore for
hire, even when you were far from the district where
Aphrodites daughters congregated.

Artemesia hated it here and longed for home.

Antinoopolis was a large city, but nothing was as
large as this place, except perhaps for Rome.
Everyone here was a stranger, even people who lived
in the same tiny rooming-house. Everyone hated each
other too: she was constantly overhearing her
neighbors shrill voices as they screamed at each other
or broke things. Usually, a couple hours later, shed
hear the equally angry, desperate sounds of their
lovemaking.

She wondered if thats what she and Sarapion

sounded like to them. They had had plenty of nasty
fights since moving here, and mended their broken
hearts plenty of times with that mindless, animalistic
sex afterwards. Of course, lately, there had mostly just
been the fighting. Sarapion had grown cold and
distant with her. He no longer kissed her or called her
sweet pet names. He looked at her with empty, bored
eyes and the only things he had to say to her were
minor criticisms of her cooking and housework. Even
these had become infrequent, and when she
questioned him about their marriage and what she
could do to make him happy, he brushed her off,
saying he was too busy for such concerns.

He was always too busy, it seemed. He was a

silversmith who made fine trinkets for the wealthy of
Alexandria. It was his artistic spirit, his fine eye for
detail that had made her fall in love with him back in
Antinoopolis. He had made her a little brooch once
with a bird on it that was so lifelike she could almost
feel its tiny chest rise and fall in her fingers when she
held it.

They had been so happy in Antinoopolis. She wished

that her uncle had never suggested that they move to
the big city where a man like Sarapion could win a
fortune with his skilled hands. And true, a man like
Sarapion could win a fortune there, but not when the
markets were crowded with hundreds of other equally
talented young men like Sarapion who had all come to
Alexandria chasing their futile dreams. Though he did
amazing work, there was a glut of such trinkets and he
was often forced to sell them for much cheaper than
they were worth. Many days he barely broke even,
and what little he made after rent and food and taxes
was usually squandered on wine and gambling and
whores. Artemesia had followed him one night,
curious to discover where her husband was spending
all his time and their money. She found him in the
arms of a whore; not even a beautiful courtesan, mind
you, but a dirty old hag pressed up against the wall in
a dingy alleyway. She struck the woman and spat in
her face before Sarapion managed to pull her off. He
beat her, then sent her home to wait for him. When he
came back he was dully apologetic and promised that
it wouldnt happen again. Things had been rough at
work and he was just looking for a little release. It
was just sex: there had been no love in it. And the
whole time that he was talking, all Artemesia could
think of was the smell of the old whore on him.

She didnt speak to him for a week. At first he made

half-hearted attempts to patch things up, but then he
fell into his own morose silence and ignored her after
that. It took another couple months before things
regained any sort of semblance of their previous life,
but it was a semblance only. Before too long Sarapion
was staying later and later at work, and some nights
he didnt come home at all. When he did he always
stank of wine and whores, and more times than not
she suffered beatings at his hands.

Artemesia was miserable. She knew no one here in

Alexandria and she missed her family back in
Antinoopolis. At first she wrote them letters and
looked forward to hearing news of her cousins and old
friends back home, but as she slipped deeper and
deeper into misery her letters grew less frequent until
she stopped writing altogether. Every once in a while
she still got letters from her family asking about her
health and begging her to come visit, but she threw
them away unanswered. What could she tell these
people who loved her? How could she tell them how
horrible her life had become, how much she longed
for death? They wouldnt understand. Her mother had
endured the same or worse from her father. She would
just tell her to endure, to be strong and take it like a
woman. They were proud Greeks, from one of the
best, if not one of the wealthiest, old families of
Antinoopolis. Lesser-class women might freely
divorce their families, but not women like her
mothers people.

And thats why Artemesia had come out here on this

moonless night. Outside the filth and clamor of
Alexandria there was another city, populated by the
dead. She found the stillness of the mausoleums and
the humble stelai reassuring. The only signs of life
were the wreaths of wilting flowers and the meals left
for the dead by their loving families. She wondered if
anyone would pour honey and oil out for her, leave
behind bread and eggs for her weary soul to eat when
she was gone. Probably not. The only person who
knew her here was Sarapion and it was clear that he
no longer cared. He probably wouldnt even miss her,
except that there would be no one to cook him dinner
or clean his hovel once she was gone.

Artemesia sat down on an offering table in front of

one of the larger mausoleums in the necropolis and
shivered. The marble was cold from the chill night air,
and she momentarily regretted not bringing her
mothers wrap again. It would have been warmer, but
it reminded her too much of the better days in
Antinoopolis, those happy days early in her marriage,
and somehow that didnt seem appropriate for what
she was about to do.
She unwrapped the knife she had brought with her
and held it in her hands, admiring the lovely design of
the handle. It was some of Sarapions best work. He
had originally made it for a wealthy client, but
admired it too much to hand it over to someone who
would never appreciate the delicate artistry that had
gone into its construction. Somehow it seemed
appropriate that Sarapions favorite piece would be
the instrument of her destruction.

Artemesia ran her finger along its cool edge and drew
blood. It was sharp and that made her smile. She had
suffered enough already. Artemesia let out a deep sigh
and readied herself for death.

Pretty night, isnt it?

The knife fell from her nerveless fingers and clattered

to the ground below.

Artemesia spun around, almost toppling off of the

offering table to see who was there with her.

The necropolis was empty, just shadows and the

monuments of the dead.

Who are you? Artemesia blurted out, fear gripping

her throat. Show yourself. It would have been a
command, but her voice faltered midway through.
In the distance a hound bayed at the moonless nights
sky. A moment later, closer, a screech owls hoot tore
apart the silence. Artemesia shivered uncontrollably.
She reached down and picked up the knife, holding it
now as a weapon in front of her.

When her eyes rose once more she saw that she was
no longer alone.

With just the dim light of the stars overhead, she

could make out the figure of the tall, beautiful woman
who was standing before her. She was clothed in a
saffron robe and tall hunting boots. Hair the color of a
ravens wing spilled down her bone-white shoulders
and she wore a crescent moon crown upon her broad
forehead. Her lips were dark as blood and her features
sharp but comely, her age impossible to determine.
Her eyes were strange, however. A trick of the
shadows, perhaps, but it seemed that they were
entirely black, without any hint of white to them.
They were cold and severe, the eyes of an inhuman
creature, but they held no malice for Artemesia, that
much she could tell.

Is that a gift for me? The strange woman asked,

nodding to the blade Artemesia held trembling in
front of her.

Artemesia glanced down and lowered the blade.

Somehow she didnt think it would do any good
against the strange woman.
No. I I have other plans for it.

Ah, I see. The woman smiled and it sent a chill

through Artemesias whole body. So I have
interrupted you then?

Yes.

I am sorry. I shall be on my way again.

She turned to go, and Artemesia almost let her, but

then some part of her called out, Stop. Wait. before
she even realized that she was speaking. Why are
you here?

This is my home. The woman smiled again, and

shrugged her arms. The gesture seemed to encompass
the whole of the necropolis. It wasnt always, but
since you people came to this land, this is the place
where you seek me out the most.

Who are you?

Dont you know that already?

Artemesia paused for a moment. It seemed that she

should recognize the other woman, but she did not.
No, I dont know you.

Pity. Another icy smile.

The woman knelt by a crudely chiseled stele, her

movement fluid and graceful, and she picked up a loaf
of bread and some garlic and then stood. She offered
her treasures to Artemesia. Hungry?

What are you doing? Dont touch that! Its food for
the dead!

It is my food as well. The woman bit into the garlic

and chewed quietly.

But its profane. How can you eat that?

I eat all that is cast off. The filth, the rot, the spoiled
and damaged things. What men hate and wish to get
rid of belongs to me. She tore off a chunk of the
stale bread, and Artemesia could see that it was
wormy and mold-covered from having sat out for so
long. The strange woman ate it silently,
appreciatively, as if she were dining on quail meat and
delicate sweet-treats.

Who are you? A ghost? A demon?

Some say so. She picked up a jar of wine left on

another tomb and proceeded to wash down her meal.
But they are wrong. The spirits follow in my train
and I am their mistress. She smiled and licked the
wine from her lips. The gesture reminded Artemesia
of a hound wiping blood from its muzzle.

Why are you here?

This is my home. The woman gently set the now
empty wine-jar down and came to stand in front of
Artemesia. And I am here for you.

Me? Artemesia swallowed hard. She was suddenly

very afraid.

Yes. May I sit here? She nodded to the space on the

offering table next to Artemesia. She thought of
refusing, of getting up and fleeing into the safety of
the darkness but then she thought better of it. She
doubted anywhere would be safe with this woman
hunting her. She moved over to make room and said,
Sure.

The woman took her seat, but Artemesia did not feel
the weight of a body next to her. Her flesh crawled
and every instinct in her body screamed to rise and
run. Instead she stayed put and said, Why?

You called out to me in your pain and desperation.

I didnt say anything.

I hear even when no words are spoken.

I dont believe that. No one hears me. No one cares.

I do.

Why?

Its what I do.

Then you know what Ive been through, what I left
behind?

Yes.

Why did that happen to me?

The woman smiled sadly. Because you were weak

and let it happen.

Anger rose in Artemesias heart. How could she say

that? She didnt want this. It wasnt her fault. She
hadnt asked to move to this horrible city. Didnt
decide to be beaten and neglected by her husband.
And what could she have possibly done to stop him
when he was so much stronger than her? She said as
much to the other woman.

There are ways. There are always ways. You just

have to be willing to seek them out. The ways are not
always easy. Sometimes it costs you greatly to follow
them. But they are there and the choice is always
yours to make.

I do not understand.

Perhaps not. But you will in time.

The two sat in silence for a while, Artemesia

pondering the other womans strange words. Then she
said, I thought he loved me.
He did, once. Perhaps he still does, in some small
way. Will you trade your happiness for his love,
though?

I dont understand. What are you suggesting?

You came here to die tonight, did you not?

Artemesia nodded, suddenly shamed by the

admission.

Why? You could just leave him, divorce him.

Where would I go? What would I do? No man would

have me now.

There is more to life than men, dear.

That is easy for you to say. You are whatever you

are.

The woman smiled at that.

I have no skills, no home. Id be on the streets and

starve. Or have to become a whore.

Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you wouldnt really know

unless you tried. You never know what youre
capable of until it comes down to it.

I am tired and I hurt. I dont want to hurt anymore.

I understand. As I said, all that is broken and

discarded belongs to me. You belong to me.
Artemesias eyes went wide. The woman sounded
crazed and yet, somehow, she sensed truth in the
words.

Who are you?

You know me already.

She did, but the weight of the realization was too

heavy and she dared not speak it aloud.

What am I to do?

I cannot say that, dear child. I merely show you the

paths that cross. You must choose which of them to
take.

But what if I choose wrongly?

There is always that risk. The choice must still be

made.

Silence settled upon the necropolis again. When

Artemesias thoughts grew too heavy she turned back
to address the strange woman again, but she was
alone.

Artemesia set the beautiful knife down where the

woman had rested moments before, a gift to the
mistress of the cross-roads, and then rose herself and
left the dwelling-place of the dead. As she walked
home along the dirty streets of sleepless Alexandria
she remained uncertain of what she was going to do
but one thing she knew was that she didnt want to
end up in that place just yet.

Crossroads
by Melia Suez

A bowl of water,
the sea in miniature.
A small rock,
a piece of earth.
Smoke of incense
tracing the sky.
These are her realms.
Crossroads are not
always paths or roads.
A play yard puddle.
A sea cliff.
A river bridge.
These are subtle
yet crossroads still.
Birth
Puberty
Death
More crossroads
internal and personal.
Whenever there is change,
wherever there is transition,
There she is found.
Hekate
Hecates Rising
by Brian Seachrist & Lori Newlove

Midnight at the Crossroads,

Black cat across my path
A man is hanging from the gallows,
Bound by the misdeeds in his past
Thick fog lies damp and heavy
The smell of sulphur hangs in the air
Dont know what Shes got in store for me
But Im feeling just a little bit scared

Cause Hecate Is Rising

Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising

She calls to me from the shadows

She says:
Child, come on down here.
Im gonna show you what you got inside
Im gonna make you face your fear.
Youve heard all the stories about Me
Im here to tell you theyre all true
Better keep your wits about you fool
Cause Im coming after you.

Cause Hecate Is Rising

Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
You can run from Me but I will follow.
You cant hide from me sometime night must fall,
And if you deny Me, I will hunt you down,
Swim, slither, creep, jump, fly, run, walk or crawl!

Look into My mirror,

(I dont want to see)
Youve already come this far
(These things just cannot be)
I know you wont like what you see
(I dont want to believe)
But you know its who you really are.
(NO, NO, NO!!!!)
Yesssssss

Cause Hecate Is Rising

Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising

I know my time is coming soon

Ive lifted the last veil
But Ive got Hecate by my side
Shell be my guide in Hell
Yeah, Hecate is rising

Hecate is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
Hecate Is Rising
We are We who are They,
We are They who are We
We are the whispering wind of fate
We are One who is Three

We are We who are They,

We are They who are We
We are the whispering wind of fate
We are Hecate!

Gatekeepers, Way-Clearers, Mediators:

Wepwawet (or Anubis and Hermanubis), Hekate,
and Ianus in the Practices of the Ekklesa
Antnoou
by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus

The Ekklesa Antnoou is a queer, Graeco-Roman-

Egyptian syncretist reconstructionist polytheist group
dedicated to Antinous, the deified lover of the Roman
Emperor Hadrian. Historically, the cultus origin
dates to late 130 C.E., and the specific location which
it first began was the site of the future city of
Antinopolis in Egypt (which was then called Hir-
Wer, which had a small settlement called Besa
beforehand), because of the drowning of Antinous in
the Nile near that location, which granted immortality
to its victims in Egyptian belief. However, Antinous
himself was of Arcadian Greek descent, having been
born in Bithynion-Claudiopolis (near Bolu in modern
Turkey), a colony of Mantineia, in the Roman
province of Pontus-Bithynia on the coast of the Black
Sea in Asia Minor. And, of course, despite being a
philhellene, the Emperor himself was Roman, with a
family originating in Spain. The cultus ended up
spreading quite widely across the Empire, into Italy
and the city of Rome itself, but it was particularly
popular in the Greek East, and Antinopolis remained
a vital and interesting city religiously for many
centuries.

Thus, the historical heritage of the modern Ekklesa

Antnoou is Egyptian, Greek, and Roman, and this
heritage is recognized at the beginning of every major
public ritual of the group, no matter what the occasion
or the content of the ritual happens to be.1 Before the
opening acclamations and procession of the image of
Antinous in any ritual, invocations are said to the
deities Wepwawet, Hekate, and Ianus (in that order)
to recognize the seniority of the religious traditions
standing behind the emergence of the cultus of
Antinous. While Egyptian culture did flourish long
before the other two, and Greek culture also had its
centuries in the sun before being eclipsed by Rome,
the specific order here also refers to the circumstances
surrounding Antinous death and its particular link to
deification from Egypt, the boys birth in Bithynia
and his upbringing and heritage in Greek culture, and
finally his association to the Roman Emperor and the
imperial cultus, which was the reason for the success
and spread of his cultus (at least initially). It is almost
as if the idea of past-present-future in this
construction equates to death being in the past (for the
past is, indeed, dead), birth in the present (for the
present is always being born), and life and love in the
future (for what do both life and love yearn for other
than their continuation into infinity?). Further, the
male (animal-headed) form of Wepwawet, the female
form of Hekate, and the often bisexual2 form of two-
headed Ianus3 encompasses a great deal (though by no
means all) of the gender diversity of the modern
membership of the Ekklesa Antnoou. Much more
could be said about this formulation symbolically and
theologically, but the present discussion is concerned
with other particularities.

One difficulty that might arise in peoples minds over

this practice is that Wepwawet, Hekate, and Ianus are
not attested in any known archaeological artifacts,
inscriptions, or literary texts in close association with
Antinous. Therefore, it might be asked: how did
these associations emerge, and what is the purpose of
maintaining them? In honor of the present
anthologys dedication, the majority of this discussion
will focus on Hekate, but a brief treatment of
Wepwawet and Ianus before proceeding to our
goddess honorand would be useful for the sake of
thoroughness.

Wepwawet is a very ancient Egyptian deity whose

name means Opener of the Ways, who is portrayed
as jackal-headed. While there are other deities in
Egypt that are likewise portrayed, the most commonly
recognized one is Anubis, the son of Osiris and
Nephthys, who was subsequently the god most
associated with embalming, and as time went on, the
psychopomp function of the latter blended with the
way-opening of the former.4 Plutarchs On Isis and
Osiris 14 gives a curious story as to why the canine
association attended the deity: because his mother
had exposed him in fear of Set/Typhon, and when Isis
sought him out to assist in her search for Osiris with
the help of dogs, Anubis subsequently became her
guardian just as dogs guard men.5 Anubis was
subsequently often grouped with Serapis, Isis, and
Harpocrates in the later Graeco-Roman-Egyptian
cultus to Serapis and Isis, and syncretized forms of
Anubis emerged in combination with Hermes
Psychopompos, becoming Hermanubis.6 The later
Christian saint Christopher was also portrayed as
cynocephalic, was celebrated on July 25th (the festival
of Hermanubis), and in fact it is possible that his
name etymologizes as Christ oupherou, Christs
way-opener, hearkening back to the roots of this
figure in Wepwawet.7 There is one Egyptian tomb
painting, the so-called Tondo of the Two Brothers,
which was found in Antinopolis, which depicts two
men, each of whom has a deity (possibly their
patron?) over one of his shoulders. The younger man
has Osirantinous over his shoulder, while the older
has Hermanubis.8 As a way-opener and psychopomp,
the figures of Wepwawet, Anubis, and Hermanubis
(conceived as one cynocephalic being or as separate
individual deities) make excellent deities to invoke
initially in any Ekklesa Antnoou rituals.

Ianus is fairly well recognized amongst modern

people as the two-headed or two-faced deity of
ancient Rome under the name Janus, and his name
contains the root of the word janitor (i.e. a door-
keeper), and the month-name January. Ovids Fasti
1.63-288 explains a number of ancient Roman
associations with the deity, including why the new
year begins during his month, why he has multiple
faces, and why offerings are made to him first of all in
rituals.9 In Ekklesa Antnoou reckoning, three
important holidays fall within the month of January.
On January 1st, the death of Aelius Caesar, the first
adopted heir of the Emperor Hadrian, is observed,
despite Hadrians wishes not to mark the occasion or
offer him deification10 (which does not seem to have
stopped many people later in history from reckoning
him deified). On January 24th, Hadrians dies natalis
(birthdate) is celebrated.11 Finally, late in the month,
on January 29th, the first appearance of the star of
Antinous in 131 C.E. (about three months after his
death) is celebrated, as this date has been revealed by
examination of Chinese astronomical records.12 The
order of these dates, interestingly, supports the idea of
past, present, future mentioned previously, as
represented by the death festival of Divus Aelius
Caesar, the birth of Divus Hadrianus, and then the
continuing presence and hope offered by the star of
Antinous. As all of these take place within the month
in which Ianus is most honored, giving him a share of
ongoing honors by the Ekklesa Antnoou also makes
logical sense, apart from the Roman customs which
would give him this privilege in any case.
Now, at last, to the great goddess Hekate.
Interestingly, Hekate has relations to the other two
deities mentioned previously, and thus acts as an
excellent intermediate or bridging figure in the order
in which the three deities are invoked in ritual.
Hekate is related to Anubis by Plutarch in On Isis and
Osiris 44 in an intriguing passage, which I give here
in full:

When Nephthys gave birth to Anubis, Isis

treated the child as if it were her own; for
Nephthys is that which is beneath the Earth and
invisible, Isis that which is above the Earth and
visible; and the circle which touches these,
called the horizon, being common to both, has
received the name Anubis, and is represented in
form like a dog; for the dog can see with his
eyes both by night and by day alike. And
among the Egyptians Anubis is thought to
possess this faculty, which is similar to that
which Hekate is thought to possess among the
Greeks, for Anubis is a deity of the lower world
as well as a god of Olympus. Some are of the
opinion that Anubis is Kronos. For this reason,
inasmuch as he generates all things out of
himself and conceives all things within himself,
he has gained the appellation of Dog. There
is, therefore, a certain mystery observed by
those who revere Anubis; in ancient times the
dog obtained the highest honors in Egypt; but,
when Cambyses had slain the Apis and cast him
forth, nothing came near the body or ate of it
 save only the dog; and thereby the dog lost his
primacy and place of honor above that of all the
other animals.13

Hekate is connected to dogs from a very early period

in Greek culture,14 and thus this connection between
Anubis and Hekate makes sense in other manners as
well as those outlined here. The idea that Hekate, like
Anubis, has a share in chthonic as well as celestial
realms is found as early as Hesiods passage from the
Theogony 411-452, in which Hekate is said to have
been honored by Zeus above all others, and to have
been given a share of the land, the sea, and the sky,
and that she had a share due to her from all who came
forth from earth and sky.15 Thus, it would be sensible
for any deity who has both chthonic and celestial
natures as Antinous does to also acknowledge
these other deities who likewise share such spheres of
influence!

Hekate is further related to Ianus in a number of

instances from classical literature. Ovids Fasti 1.89-
144 mentions the two together at one point toward the
end of this section, particularly in Hekates aspect as
three-faced and the appearance of Ianus Bifrons
(two-faced, called here biformis),16 in his
explanation for the reasons for the deitys double-
faced aspect. Further, the fifth century neoplatonist
Proclus has a hymn in which he honors Hekate and
Ianus together, praising the former as the mother of
the gods and guardian of the gates, and the latter as
Zeus and the forefather of all.17 These two multiple-
aspected deities, both of whom are connected with or
syncretized to the titanic generation of immortals, and
for whom beginnings and safe passages are
particularly important, could only be expected to
become more elevated in status and perceived power
as time went on. As a grouping, therefore,
Wepwawet, Hekate, and Ianus are very apt for any
Graeco-Roman-Egyptian practitioner to consider in
their preliminary rites.

Hekate occurs on a number of occasions in a

particular text from the corpus of the Greek Magical
Papyri, specifically PGM IV, which has a number of
noteworthy Antinoan connections. PGM IV was
formerly known as the Great Magical Papyrus of
Paris, and is probably a fourth-century C.E. copy of a
second-century C.E. original.18 The two things which
most closely connect this composition to an Antinoan
context are as follows: a version of one of the spells
found therein, lines 296-466,19 is found with a figurine
like the one described in the recipe with a specific
invocation of Antinous, probably from the vicinity of
Antinopolis;20 and, one of the spells in the papyrus is
ascribed to Pachrates, an Egyptian mage who gave the
spell to Hadrian.21 More will be said about this figure
in the discussion to follow below. However, it does
remain to see what role Hekate plays in PGM IV. On
three occasions, the voces magicae in a spell read
AKTIOPHIS ERESCHIGAL
NEBOUTOSOUALETH,22 and Betz notes that
Aktiophis is an epithet of Selene, but as Selene,
Artemis, and Hekate were syncretized and considered
forms of the moon by this stage, it is possible that
Hekate gives some of her more fierce associations to
the spells concerned; indeed, Betz remarks that this
particular formula might specifically refer to
Hekate.23 The formula ERESCHIGAL
NEBOUTOSOUALETH occurs once in a spell that
refers to Hekate specifically.24 In two further spells, a
three-headed figure of Hekate must be created as an
ingredient of the spell concerned.25 While it is
impossible to be certain where this papyrus
originated, or who the compiler and intended users
happened to be, the specific occurrence of the
AKTIOPHI ERESCHIGAL NEBOUTOSOUALETH
formula in Pachrates spell, plus the occurrence of
Hekate in general, and Hekate as an
equivalent/syncretism of Selene, is of particular
interest for Antinoan purposes.

In an interesting fragmentary Antinoan text from c.

285 C.E., from the Oxyrynchus Papyri, and
discovered in about 1993, comes a section discussing
the lion hunt of Hadrian and Antinous (on which more
in a moment), and also Antinous deification. This
fragment includes the idea that Antinous deification
took place in a manner parallel to that of Endymion,
when it says that Selene, upon more brilliant hopes
bade him shine as a star-like bridegroom and
garlanding the night like with a circle she took him for
her husband.26 There is some evidence to indicate
that other deified imperial figures associated with the
Hadrianic regime specifically, his sister Aelia
Domitia Paulina was syncretized to Selene in certain
instances.27 The remembrance of other members of
the Hadrianic and Traianic imperial families in the
demoi-names of Antinopolis was established from
the earliest times of the citys founding,28 Hadrians
foundation of which being noted immediately after
the passage above.29 J. R. Reas notes on this passage
even suggest that chthonic Hekates role in deification
of mortals may be alluded to in this syncretism with
Selene.30 Antinous connection to Diana (the Roman
goddess often syncretized with Artemis, likewise
syncretized to Luna, the functional equivalent of
Selene) at a particular cult at Lanuvium near Rome is
also known,31 and is highly suggestive in the present
case.32

But this is only the tail end, as it were, of that

particular narrative section of the poem concerned.
The previous portion of the poem discusses the lion
hunt of Hadrian and Antinous, culminating in its
various mythological allusions and discussion of the
lotus-miracle emerging from the event with the words
into the Nile he hurried for purification of the blood
of the lion.33 The lotus miracle is mentioned in a
prose piece from a papyrus found at Tebtynis,34 and
the lion hunt is treated in a number of other locations,
including a further papyrus fragment from
Oxyrynchus, giving more details on the actual hunt,35
as well as sculpturally on the hunting tondo now on
the arch of Constantine in Rome,36 but most
importantly for present purposes, in a passage from
Athenaeus Deipnosophistae (The Learned
Banqueters) 15.677, in which the origin of the poetic
tradition on these matters is credited to one Pancrates,
an Egyptian poet.37 This Pancrates is conjectured to
be the same person as the Pachrates referred to in the
PGM IV text as having given the particular spell there
to Hadrian, and he may likewise be the same figure as
the Egyptian priest Pancrates referred to in Lukian of
Samosatas Philopseudes (Lover of Lies), a satirical
text which is the earliest occurrence of the sorcerers
apprentice motif.38 In other writings, Lukian alludes
to the Antinoan cultus in a less-than-flattering light,39
and thus this particular appearance of Pancrates in a
text showing how supposed magicians and those with
esoteric knowledge prey upon the witless would be a
further commentary on the perception of the Antinoan
cultus, with its miracles involving lions and lotuses,
the star which was said to be Antinous katasterism,
and the overabundant inundation of the Nile in 131
which was attributed to Antinous death.40 Hekate
and her epiphany plays a large role elsewhere in
Lukians Philopseudes, and the narration of her
epiphany is likewise attributed to Eucrates, the
character in the frame-tale who also interacted with
Pancrates.41 The connection of PGM IV to Hekate
generally, and particularly in Pachrates spell therein,
and likewise the connection between Pancrates as the
final (and epitomizing) tale in the Philopseudes and
Hekates appearances therein as well, is nothing if not
suggestive.

But, even more interesting in relation to Hekate is a

lost text (or texts) dating from some decades after the
origins of the Antinoan cultus, namely, the Chaldean
Oracles, a late second-century C.E. corpus which
survive in fragments from various commentaries on
the corpus from the mid-third century onwards, and
well into the Christian period.42 In fragment 147,
found in the commentary of the eleventh-century C.E.
Michael Psellus work, the epiphany of Hekate is said
to come with a darkening of the heavens (both the
lights of stars and moon), earthquakes and lightning,
and that you will observe all things in the form of a
lion (athrseis pnta lonta).43 The other
characteristics of this epiphany are echoed in the
epiphany of Hekate in Lukians Philopseudes
mentioned earlier.44 In the manner via which
Antinous is said to have slain the lion, purified its
blood in the Nile (which became the red Nile lotus
thereafter named for Antinous), and then gone on to
his deification through Selene in the Oxyrynchus
papyrus from c. 285 C.E. discussed above, the fact
that Pancrates/Pachrates is probably the source of this
particular bit of theological mythology, and that
Hekate is intimately connected with what can be
reconstructed of Pancrates/Pachrates overall magical
and religious milieu, I cannot help but think that it is
possible that Hekates epiphany as a lion might also
play into the overall construction of this mytheme.45

Of the three gatekeeper, way-clearer and mediator

deities reckoned in Ekklesa Antnoou ritual practice
and devotion, connections of them to Antinous
ancient cultus are difficult to reconstruct with any
certainty; but of these, the most intriguing and
compelling case can be made for Hekate, for all of the
reasons previously explained. However, as we are
reconstructionists, and actual practices on the ground
are also impossible to know with any certainty, it is
just as well to claim modern interest and appeal for
these deities to be included in rituals, and to honor
them in preliminary rites on festival occasions. It
should be the task of everyone involved in
reconstructed traditions to not only research attested
ancient practices with diligence and discernment, but
also to create new practices which will infuse the old
traditions with new life, relevant for people in the
modern world, because it is in the modern world
and always in the present (whether the eternal present
of myth or the temporal present of our daily lives and
experiences) that ritual and devotion takes place.
Even if Pancrates/Pachrates were to be called up from
the dead and interviewed on these matters, and if his
answers to the specific points of this discussion all
happened to be met with negatives, ridicule, and
derision, the theological formulations and mythic
constructions of the early twenty-first century are no
more nor less authentic and useful than the users of
them find them to be. And how appropriate,
therefore, that of the three deities, perhaps
representing the past, the present, and the future, that
the mediating term of the three, Hekate, is the one
also representing the temporal present, and the one
who, even in absence, seems to be the most present in
the mythos of Antinous.
1
Some holidays, feasts, and celebrations in the group
are specifically Antinoan in nature; others are
 versions of historically-attested festivals from
ancient Mediterranean cultures, like the Lupercalia,
Serapeia, or other such occasions.
2
Bisexual is here understood in the gender rather
than sexual orientation sense; while this is a more
antiquated usage, hermaphroditic or intersexed
are also not quite appropriate terms for description
of this form and understanding of the deity.
3
Macrobius, Saturnalia 1.9.8; see Percival Vaughan
Davies (trans.), Macrobius, The Saturnalia, Records
of Civilization, Sources and Studies 79 (London and
New York: Columbia University Press, 1969), p.
67.
4
For some information on this, see Terence
DuQuesne, Anubis, Upwawet, and Other Deities:
Personal Worship and Official Religion in Ancient
Egypt (Cairo: The Egyptian Museum
Cairo/Supreme Council of Antiquities Press, 2007).
5
Frank Cole Babbitt (trans.), Plutarch, Moralia,
Volume V (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1936, reprint 2003), pp. 38-39.
6
Jean-Claude Grenier, Anubis Alexandrin et Romain
(Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1977), particularly pp. 53-59 on
Hermes-Anubis/Hermanubis.
7
David Gordon White, Myths of the Dog-Man
(Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press,
1991), pp. 43-44.
8
Ann E. Haeckl, Brothers or Lovers? A New
Reading of the Tondo of the Two Brothers,
Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists 38
(2001), pp. 63-78 and Plate 6.
9
Sir James George Frazer (trans.), Ovid, Fasti
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1931), pp.
6-23.
10
Anthony R. Birley, Hadrian the Restless Emperor
(London and New York: Routledge, 2000), pp. 292-
294.
11
Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price
(eds./trans.), Religions of Rome, Volume 2: A
Sourcebook (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1998, reprint 2001), p. 72, which is an early
third century military calendar from Dura Europus
recording the dies natalis of Aelius Caesar on
January 13 and that of Hadrian on the 24th; see also
an Egyptian calendar fragment from Tebtynis, in S.
Eitrem and Leiv Amundsen (eds.), Papyri
Osloenses, Vol. 3 (Oslo: The Academy of Science
and Letters at Oslo, 1936), pp. 54-55, which records
both dates as well.
12
J. R. Rea (ed./trans.), The Oxyrynchus Papyri, Vol.
63 (London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1996), pp.
14-15.
13
Babbitt, pp. 106-107.
14
On this, see Dr. Phillip A. Bernhardt-Houses essay
elsewhere in the present volume.
15
Glenn W. Most (trans.), Hesiod, Theogony, Works
and Days, Testimonia (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 2006), pp. 36-39.
16
Frazer, pp. 8-13.
17
Frederick C. Grant, Hellenistic Religions: The Age
of Syncretism, Library of Liberal Arts 134
(Indianapolis and New York: The Liberal Arts
 Press/The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1953), p.
172.
18
Daniel Ogden, Nights Black Agents: Witches,
Wizards and the Dead in the Ancient World (London
and New York: Hambledon Continuum, 2008), p.
116.
19
Hans Dieter Betz (ed./trans.), The Greek Magical
Papyri in Translation including the Demotic Spells,
Volume One: Texts, Second Edition, with an
updated bibliography (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1992; paperback edition 1996).
Further references to this work in the present article
are hereafter indicated by PGM followed by papyrus
number, lines, and pages of Betz edition. An
alternate translation, with commentary, of this spell
is found in Daniel Ogden, Magic, Witchcraft, and
Ghosts in the Greek and Roman Worlds: A
Sourcebook (Oxford and New York: Oxford
University Press, 2002), pp. 247-250 239.
20
John G. Gager, Curse Tablets and Binding Spells
from the Ancient World (New York and Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 97-100 28;
Beard, North, and Price, pp. 266-267 11.5a; Ogden,
Magic, Witchcraft, pp. 250-251 240.
21
PGM IV, 2441-2621, pp. 82-86.
22
PGM IV, 2441-2621, p. 83, lines 2483-2486; 2708-
2784, pp. 89-90, lines 2745-2753; 2891-2942, p. 93,
lines 2912-2915.
23
Betz, p. 337 s.v. NEBOUTOSOUALETH.
24
PGM IV, 1390-1495, p. 65, lines 1417-1420.
25
PGM IV, 2006-2125, p. 75, lines 2119-2123; 2785-
2890, p. 92, lines 2880-2884.
26
Rea, p. 10.
27
Gnter Grimm, Paulina und Antinous. Zure
Vergttlichung der Hadriansschwester in
egypten, in Christoph Brker and Michael
Donderer (eds.), Das antike Rom und der Osten:
Festschrift fr Klaus Parlasca zum 65. Geburtstag
(Erlangen: Universittsbund Erlanden-Nrnberg e.
V.,1990), pp. 33-44.
28
Mary Taliaferro Boatwright, Hadrian and the Cities
of the Roman Empire (Princeton and Oxford:
Princeton University Press, 2000), p. 194 note 124.
29
Rea, p. 10.
30
Rea, p. 13 note 11.
31
Beard, North, and Price, pp. 292-294 12.2.
32
I have treated this topic more extensively elsewhere;
see Artemis and the Cult of Antinous, in Thista
Minai et al. (eds.), Unbound: A Devotional
Anthology for Artemis (Eugene: Bibliotheca
Alexandrina, 2009), pp. 106-112.
33
Rea, p. 10.
34
Achille Vogliano (ed.), Papiri della R. Universita di
Milano, Volume 1 (Milan: Ulrico Hoepli, 1937),
pp. 175-183 at 176-179. See also the poetic
translation of this text in my book, The Phillupic
Hymns (Eugene: Bibliotheca Alexandrina, 2008),
pp. 54-55 and 260 (notes).
35
Arthur S. Hunt (ed./trans.), The Oxyrynchus Papyri,
Vol. 8 (London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1911),
pp. 73-77, which is conjectured to be a fragment of
Pancrates actual poem. See also D. L. Page
(ed./trans.), Select Papyri III: Literary Papyri,
 Poetry (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,
1957), pp. 516-519.
36
Mary Taliaferro Boatwright, Hadrian and the City
of Rome (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton
University Press, 1987), p. 190-202.
37
Charles Burton Gulick (ed./trans.), Athenaeus,
Depinosophistae, Volume 7 (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1941), pp. 126-129.
38
Ogden, Magic, Witchcraft, pp. 54-55 54; In Search
of the Sorcerers Apprentice: The Traditional Tales
of Lucians Lover of Lies (Swansea: The Classical
Press of Wales, 2007), pp. 60-61, 231-270; Nights
Black Agents, pp. 95, 98, 122-123.
39
Royston Lambert, Beloved and God: The Story of
Hadrian and Antinous (New York: Viking, 1984),
pp. 94, 96, 192; A. M. Harmon (ed./trans.), Lucian,
Volume V (Cambrdige: Harvard University Press,
1962), pp. 426-433 (The Parliament of the Gods);
M. D. MacLeod (ed./trans.), Lucian, Volume VII
(Cambrdige: Harvard University Press, 1962), pp.
268-281 (Dialogues of the Gods: Zeus and Hera),
and 281-291 (Dialogues of the Gods: Zeus and
Ganymede), the latter of which has never been
discussed as a possibility of further Antinoan
allusion.
40
I hope to treat this topic further in the future, but I
would note that the near-flood caused by the misuse
of the spell learned by the character taught by
Pancrates in this narrative might mirror the
excessive, and even destructive, flooding of the Nile
that followed Antinous death. For evidence of this
flooding, see Bernard P. Grenfell and Arthur S. Hunt
 (ed./trans.), The Oxyrynchus Papyri, Vol. 3
(London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1903), pp.
180-183; Eitrem and Amundsen, pp. 55-61.
41
Ogden, Magic, Witchcraft, pp. 272-273 275; In
Search of the Sorcerers Apprentice, pp. 54-56, 161-
170.
42
See Sarah Iles Johnston, Hekate Soteira: A Study of
Hekates Roles in the Chaldean Oracles and
Related Literature (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990),
pp. 1-12.
43
Ruth Majercik, The Chaldean Oracles: Text,
Translation, and Commentary (Leiden: E. J. Brill,
1989), pp. 104-105 147, and commentary on p.
196. Hans Lewy, Chaldean Oracles and Theurgy
(Paris: tudes Augustiniennes, 1978), pp. 94 and
note 114, discusses this fragment, but believes the
reading is mistaken. See also Johnston, pp. 111-
112, who agrees with Lewy, and does not accept the
text as it stands in Psellus, instead insisting on a
textual emendation, because she does not understand
how this line could make sense. As should be
obvious, I opine that greater credence should be
given to the text as it exists, and to the adept
commentary on it given by Psellus.
44
Johnston, p. 116.
45
While I do not wish to insist upon the point, Im also
reminded of another passage from Plutarchs On Isis
and Osiris (38), which concerns the connection
between the dog-star Sirius and lions observed by
the Egyptians, and the rising of the former during
the Zodiac month of the latter, which heralds the
inundation of the Nile; see Babbitt, pp. 90-93. As
 Anubis and Hekate seem to share some connection,
and Anubis (as well as Hekate) are both said to be
cynocephalic, and cynocephali are connected very
much to the dog-star, there is the possibility of some
synchronism of tradition in that regard. However,
more compelling for present purposes is the fact that
the inundation of the Nile is attributed to Antinous
miraculous intervention, and therefore its further
connection to the lion-month might have been a
further factor in Pancrates/Pachrates theological
formulations.

Serpent Hair
by Rebecca Buchanan

serpent-hair
tiny hisses forked tongues
iridescent greens and blues and purples and such reds
gown of mist and moonlight and earth-deep shadows
barefoot down the road
puppy in hand
left at a crossroad shrine
suffocated
favored offering
dogs circling her legs
yipping
barking
running ahead and back
circling running again
and the ghosts who follow
uncounted
a river of pain and fear and denial
angry hungry
hungry for the life never lived
now never to be lived
howling in anguish
answering howl from the dogs
the puppy whines in her hands
serpent-hairs rise and hiss tongues snapping
and the ghosts are silent again
for a moment
through the night
forever night
never rest

Hermes and Hekate

by Sophie S.

He, she thinks, licking her lips, is everything that she

loves about herself. No, no, he is not just that. He is
everything that she loves and everything that she
hates. He is the shadows to cool and comfort her
when the light the bright light that she has grown
unaccustomed to in the gloominess of Hades burns
hot-fast-sharp enough to hurt. She bleeds for that
light; smoke pours from her mouth and eyes, her own
power streaming away from her from her own
imbalance.

And thus, when the light stings and her smoke flees,
she turns back to the darkness, back to him. He is
always there not pushing, not demanding, just there.
He opens his arms to accept her; she pushes the low
rim of his hat aside and kisses the warm skin of his
brow. It shouldnt be possible, not for a god whose
very lips are dark with shadow, but hes always warm,
as though fire burns under his skin. She loves that;
and maybe she hates it a little, too. Maybe she hates
him a little.

But in that moment, with her body nestled against his

and stealing the warmth from his skin, she does not
think of love and hate. No: she thinks, instead, of
another lover her only other. She is of the night, of
gloomy death and prophecies of thus; and so perhaps
it was natural that she would fall into Hades bed, one
Summer night when they were drunk on their own
despair. Summer is Aphrodites season, after all her
domain does stretch to the Underworld, of course, for
she is a goddess of life and, thus, of death and she
had not seen Hermes for almost a month. Time travels
differently between the worlds; although she knew
that it had been only a month, it had felt like endless,
lonely years. Hades, hungry, kissed her first. She
remembers that clearly, despite the fogginess of her
mind and of their encounter. Passion fueled them,
then, but it did not hide how much Hades repelled her,
when their chitons were strewn beneath them and all
she could feel was his cold, hard body against hers.

But she does not like to think of such times. She

kisses Hermes again lips to lips, this time and
thinks instead of her seduction at this lovely-awful
gods hands. He was not cold and indifferent like
Hades; instead, he brought her cool skin to quivering
life with his hands and tongue. She only has to press
her fingers to her tongue to feel the echo of her taste
and his combined in her mouth light and shadow,
summer and winter, ice and fire. He has never bored
her: she is inexperienced and he is not. She chooses to
spend her days in Hades with only shades and barely-
there nymphai; and he flies through the air, over the
earth and through the seas. She envies him that: he is
a messenger, bound to them all, and yet he has more
freedom than she lady of the Underworld, minister to
Persephone and one-time lover of Hades will ever
have.

Now, though, Hermes pushes the darkness out of her

mind with kisses that set her nerves on fire. He does
not ask questions, nor comment, nor laugh at her cold,
fevered hands that glide over him, awkward and
fumbling as ever. He just kisses her, breathing heat
into her body, and she responds as she never did for
Hades.

Later, she lifts her head from the ground and looks at
him. Her skin is flushed, now; and his is cold and
pale. The balance has been restored - and when he
leaves, he will be warmed by the sun and the kisses of
nymphai and his wife, and she will lose her heat to the
creeping cold of the Underworld. But such thoughts
are not for now, and so when she looks at him she
casts all of her thoughts aside. She Hekate, queen of
ghosts and necromancy, lady of blood and life and
death becomes almost mortal with her open
expression and too-moist eyes.

I love you, she thinks, as she always does.

And his lips twitch, as they always do; for he is

language, he is thought verbalised and yet he will
not answer her unless she speaks the words aloud. He
would not do her such an injustice as to act as though
she is beneath him, that her body and mind are his
alone to read.

But she will not speak the words herself. To do so

would be to become truly mortal, to lose her divinity
and yield to the pleasures and pains that Aphrodite
and her Erotes bring in their laughing, golden wake.
She is not ready for that not yet but perhaps, one
day, she will be.

Song for Hecate

by Rhiannon Asher

O Lady of the darkest soul of night

Mother of Midnight, Ancient Shadow Queen
Bringer of Visions, give to me the sight
To see the sacred in all living things.
And in cold death, still beauty may I see
When You take back into Yourself
the beauty that was me.

O great Hecate, beneath Your waning moon

I stand dark-hooded on the shadowed road
and face three choices, though all roads lead to You
All stories end at last, untold and told.
O Crone of Wisdom, give to me the sight
To see the dance within all things
of darkness and of light.

O Ancient Lady, Mistress of the Night

You of three faces, Maiden, Mother, Crone
Protector of Witches, dancing with delight
On Your brown Earth, together or alone.
Dark Mother Goddess, give to me the sight
In death, in life, may I behold
Your Mystery dark and bright.

Maternal Hecate
by Allyson Szabo

I was but a child of seven or eight years,

Terrified in the night.
I knew not what I called to, so desperately,
And yet I knew instinctively to call.

The mother of my body lay,

Dark and brooding elsewhere,
Never heeding my fears,
Ignoring the stifled sobs in the night.

The gods, they hear our pleas,

Even when screamed silently.
They hear, and they answer us,
In their own mysterious ways.

I was but a child of seven or eight years,

Terrified in the night.
I called out to god, ignorant and desperate,
Innocent, and hungry for comfort.

The mother of my soul answered,

Bright and warm and full of love,
Wrapping incomprehensibly large arms
Around my trembling being.

I didnt know her name, then.

I simply called her god.
She heard me crying, and took pity
On a child who had no one to nurture her.

I was but a child of seven or eight years,

Terrified in the night,
When she first touched my yearning mind
And made me her own, unknowing.

The mother of mothers,

Hecate, saffron robed and beauteous,
You have never left me,
Through all the tribulations of my life.

Hymn to Hekate
by Lykeia

Swathed in red is Hekate.

Hooded in red is Hekate.
Red hemmed Artemis lift aloft your burning torch,
And bring the trumpet of the nocturnal hunt.
The flow of life is in the hands of Hekate,
And her burning light guides the way.
Terror-ridden roar of the bull is the trumpets blast,
And the hounds bay in search of their prey.
The beasts of the woods shudder in their homes,
And a scream fills the night air.
None is safe from the nocturnal hunt,
And Hekate guides the host of souls to their new
abode.
The light of Hekate does not flicker,
But illuminates the halls of the dead,
And exalts in the company of fair Persephone.
Bloodied red Hekate, we leave your monthly feast,
At the site of your throne.
Red swathed Hekate has all roads lain before her,
And merciful goddess greets those unfortunate to
share her plate.
The touch of Hekate is merciful, and in her embrace
we depart

A Prayer to Hekate
by Hearthstone

Hekate, sure-stepping maid, watcher at the gate,

honored by mighty Zeus above all others,
fair goddess who walks freely along all paths,
holder of shares in all the worlds. Hekate,
keeper of evil from the home, friend of women,
guardian of children, protector in fear and need.

Hekate, keen-eyed one of whom we know too little,

honored in ancient times at each homes door,
receiver of crossroad offerings, of mothers prayers,
I ask of you, defend us now as you did then.
I call on you to guard my home, my family,
my children. Kind Hekate, I praise and honor you.

Glorious Hekate, well known by all in times past,

honored today as well in many guises,
on this dark night I pray to you, shining goddess.
Peerless Hekate, I pour out sweet wine to you,
I pray to you: safeguard my home, my household;
watch over my daughters; keep all ill from my door.

Daughter of Night
by Todd Jackson

Ranked first among Thine agonies

That one so lovely should go cowled.

Early March.
Cold rains have crossed California
Then rolled over the Sierras and dipped down upon
us,
And six straight days chilled Las Vegas.
These cold rains, then carried East along the high
wind,
And did great mischief there;
Snow lies two feet deep and more all up the seaboard.
Back here, back West, the Valley lies refreshed.
At midweek there had been a tight seam of heat inside
two cold days,
And Saturday we burst into the seventies.
Tonight, the summit of Mount Charleston,
The high point of Earth in this broad County;
The crooked Moon hangs above, just off the peak of
black Night.
Hekates, the crooked Moon, that slices even Night.

The Moon is framed, off-center, by the silhouetted

tips of the bristlecone pines,
That sprouted when quick girls still dared bulls at
Minos.
No longer even a green blush now within that soft
mass;
The pines are but blacker shapes against black Night,
Jagged in the corners of my sight, the stars all hid
behind.

While, below, warm spring sunlight has stroked Las

Vegas,
Then soothed it with cool winds,
It is white winter here atop Mount Charleston,
Where the cloudwater fell as it would fall two
thousand miles east,
As snow.
Winter had entered the valley as a nymph in white
taffeta, billowing through Night;
She drifted southeast, sailing among the clouds,
Snagged underneath by the tips of all the Sierras,
And above,
Snagged also upon the crooked Moon;
The winter nymph here has paid due tribute
To Hekate,
Then flowed eastward in a shredded gown.
Mount Charleston, as the tall peak, has snagged its
own big patch off the gown,
And I am standing here, one man among two amid
white snow,
And I am black, like Hekate,
And the hounds,
Here, cast against white snow, as
Above, on white moondust. I look now with all my
eyes
And behold, the splash of dogprints in the snow.

Io Hekate, Daughter of Night

Ahead, three roads crossing, and She knows the
steepest way.
Io Hekate, Daughter of Night
Priced steep is Her wisdom, and only the hard can
pay.

For the Moon, and Nevada, are two great concaves

toward each other,
Split by black broad space
As great palms outspread in the Night,
So that the Moon, and Nevada, are not aimless
wanderers;
They are pinned,
Such that that tight cislunar space has sprung five
whirlpools,
And close upon Nevada, encircling the Earth, a skin
of gathered Sunfire.
I leave bootprints in the snow atop the mountain, as
Above, in that white sliver dangled among distant
stars
There are boot prints studded in the Moon dust.

Io Hekate, Daughter of Night

Ahead, three roads crossing, and She knows the
steepest way.
Io Hekate, Daughter of Night
Priced steep is Her wisdom, and only the hard can
pay.

Hers is the Moon, and especially the crooked Moon.

Hers that part of Dionysos sap that poisons and heals.
Hers is the jellyfish sting.
And that bright droplet off the rattlers fang,
That inside itself is whirling as it dangles there.
Hers, the thirst for riches, that gives focus to spirit,
Hers, the hymen between salesman and closer,
And the big red X on the board.
Hers, the black and the red of the dice.
Hers, the garlic bulb,
That is poison unto poison itself, and thereby heals.
Hers, my recent trade of blood against poverty,
And that blood pays cheap.
Hers the nuggets still dug deep in the land, unpicked,
Waiting,
And the black oil that is the pressed rot of ancient
flesh,
And that pools and surges within the Earth,
Then sails the broad seas in ships more numerous
Than breadcrumbs strewn before an audience of birds,
And all, because it burns.
Hers the honorific, Nigger, that is the curse, and
delight, of my people,
The choice of Black, and the weight inside that
choice,
That may not now be unchosen. For we now are Hers,
And Her grip will not be broken.
Hers the dark shining in the abyss,
Earths bowels burst hot through the ocean floor,
Hers the weird dark forests that thrive there,
In the pressure.
Hers the ice and the metal in the Moon.
Hid beneath deep rock, yet there is no hiding
From the torchlight.
Hers, the quarter million miles of cold death.
Hers is that knowing of woman that woman may only
know
By knowing herself, and among the herbs.
Hers, the mystique of woman.

I know a lady the color of moonlight on bundled

wood.
People are dying in her dreams who arent dead yet.
That comes afterward, and soon.
I have yet to touch the lady.
One day I shall.

Under Night,
Winding down the mountain road.
My friend and I observe upon the city, art, and
blackjack.
She
I cannot long speak of.
She
Is not yet fully speakable in this time.
But down in that great splash of lights below
Mine is not the only candle lit
For Hekate. Yes,
Were She to, with a wave of Her hand,
Snuff the brilliant plumage of the Strip,
And Downtowns yellow-white gleaming,
Were She then to shut down the straggler lights of
Summerlin,
Of North Las Vegas,
And leave only candles lit for Gods
The valley floor would at first lie black as the ring of
mountains
Before Apollo brings them forth with the morning.
The valley floor would at first lie black,
But in time the eyes would focus, and soon make out
Pricks of light, only several, but definite.
Scattered, and yet a gathering,
Witness to the returning of the time.

It is growing warmer down the slope.

We descend from winter toward spring.
But now two fingers on my right hand are struck cold.
Cold has climbed up my knuckles,
Till taking fingernail to lips, I find it ice.
I remind myself of my good health
Yet cannot not ask, Which does this mean?
Stroke or heart attack?
No. It is that She has taken my hand.
She who comes and goes in dread.

I am honored. I will choose something fine tomorrow

To set before the purple candle.

Io Hekate, Daughter of Night

Ahead, three roads crossing, and She knows the
steepest way.
Io Hekate, Daughter of Night
Priced steep is Her wisdom, and only the hard can
pay.

Storms Queen Hekate

by Antonella Vigliarolo

Some Epithets and Unfamiliar Terms Explained

Anassa eneroi: Queen of those below i.e., the dead.
Brimo: Angry, terrifying; an epithet for various
Eleusinian goddesses.
Deipnon: Dinner; a monthly ritual carried out in
honor of Hekate.
Enodia: of the wayside.
Hekataion: A statue or altar for Hekate set up outside
the house or where three roads meet.
Katabasis: Descent, especially into the underworld.
Khthonia: the underworld/earthly goddess.
Kleidophorous: Key-bearing.
Perseis: Destroyer.
Phosphoros: Brightly shining/light-bringer.
Prutania: of the assembly-hall.
Psychopomp: Guide of souls.
Soteira: the Savior goddess.
Trimorphis: of three forms/shapes.
Trivia: of three roads.

Select Bibliography

Burkert, Walter. Greek Religion: Archaic and

Classical. Wiley-Blackwell. 1991.
Crowfoot, Greg. Crossroads. Aventine Press. 2005.
dEste, Sorita. Hekate Liminal Rites: A Study of the
rituals, magic and symbols of the torch-bearing
Triple Goddess of the Crossroads. Avalonia, 2009.
Faraone, Christopher A. and Dirk Obbink. Magika
Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion. Oxford
University Press 1997.
George, Demetra. Mysteries of the Dark Moon: The
Healing Power of the Dark Goddess. HarperOne.
1992.
Johnston, Sarah Iles. Hekate Soteira: A Study of
Hekate's Roles in the Chaldean Oracles and
Related Literature. An American Philological
Association Book. 1990.
____ Restless Dead: Encounters Between the Living
and the Dead in Ancient Greece. University of
California Press. 1999.
Kerenyi, Carl. The Gods of the Greeks. Thames &
Hudson. 1980.
Ogden, Daniel. Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the
Greek and Roman Worlds: A Sourcebook. Oxford
University Press. 2002.
Rabinowitz, Jacob. The Rotting Goddess: The Origin
of the Witch in Classical Antiquity. Autonomedia,
1998
Ronan, Stephen. The Goddess Hekate. Chthonios.
1992.
Varner, Gary R. Hecate: The Witches Goddess.
Unknown Publisher. 2007.
Von Rudloff, Robert. Hekate in Ancient Greek
Religion. Horned Owl Publishing. 1999.

Some Online Resources

Altar to Hekate:
http://www.soulrebels.com/beth/hekate.html

Hekate, the Dark Goddess:

http://www.angelfire.com/biz/MysticalArts/Hekate.ht
ml

Hecate, Goddess of Witchcraft:

http://hekate.timerift.net/hecate.htm

Neos Alexandria temple page for Hekate:

http://neosalexandria.org/hekate.htm

Shrine to Hekate:
http://www.paganinstitute.org/T/hekate.shtml

Theoi.com entry on Hekate:

http://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/Hekate.html

Wikipedia entry on Hekate:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hecate
About the Bibliotheca Alexandrina

Ptolemy Soter, the first Makedonian ruler of Egypt,

established the library at Alexandria to collect all of
the worlds learning in a single place. His scholars
compiled definitive editions of the Classics, translated
important foreign texts into Greek, and made
monumental strides in science, mathematics,
philosophy and literature. By some accounts over a
million scrolls were housed in the famed library, and
though it has long since perished due to the ravages of
war, fire, and human ignorance, the image of this
great institution has remained as a powerful
inspiration down through the centuries.

To help promote the revival of traditional polytheistic

religions we have launched a series of books
dedicated to the ancient gods of Greece and Egypt.
The library is a collaborative effort drawing on the
combined resources of the different elements within
the modern Hellenic and Kemetic communities, in the
hope that we can come together to praise our gods and
share our diverse understandings, experiences and
approaches to the divine.

A list of our current and forthcoming titles can be

found on the following page. For more information on
the Bibliotheca, our submission requirements for
upcoming devotionals, or to learn about our
organization, please visit us at
www.neosalexandria.org.
Sincerely,

The Editorial Board of the Library of Neos

Alexandria

Current Titles from the Bibliotheca Alexandrina:

Written in Wine: A Devotional Anthology for

Dionysos
Dancing God: Poetry of Myths and Magicks by
Diotima
Goat Foot God by Diotima
Longing for Wisdom: The Message of the Maxims by
Allyson Szabo
The Phillupic Hymns by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus
Unbound: A Devotional Anthology for Artemis
Waters of Life: A Devotional Anthology for Isis and
Serapis
Bearing Torches: A Devotional Anthology for Hekate
Queen of the Great Below: An Ereshkigal Devotional
From Cave to Sky: A Devotional Anthology for Zeus
Out of Arcadia: A Devotional Anthology in Honor of
Pan