Thursday, February 28, 2013

Daughter of Aphrodite



According to the ancient Athenian calendar the fourth day after the dark moon each month is dedicated to the goddess Aphrodite, beautiful mistress of love and sexuality. A powerful deity whose domain in antiquity stretched from the Near East to Magna Graecia and beyond, Aphrodite was worshipped by all aspects of society. A goddess considered so potent, so pervasive, that not only did she feature in the celebrated literature of the day — the epics of Homer — she was considered to be directly responsible for starting the Trojan War. Remember, both Helen and Paris were beloved of Aphrodite!

As a student and dedicant of Aphrodite, I believe in love as a physical, carnal, wild force — represented by the Goddess of Love — although I do not claim to understand its mystery nor to competently control its attracting power. Indeed, I aspire to worship Aphrodite in fact, as a sort of placatory gesture directed toward her — I have spent many more years being the victim of her wiles than I have in embodying any sort of role as mistress of her realm. Sometimes I have felt to be almost persecuted by her, the way she makes me weak, smitten and goo-goo over someone, against my will...

Research and practical experimentation have convinced me that the religious forms and methods of the ancient Greeks were valid and that they can be effective and meaningful today. So, when the religious impulse strikes me — as it does every so often — and I feel the need to step into the liminal realm of the gods, I perform a thank-offering to Aphrodite for all the things she has given me — even those things that I haven’t asked for, and that have caused me pain (I suffer to learn!). I also ask for her continuous blessing and that she direct me towards a deeper understanding of her nature.

The way I go about formal worship is to first make a beautiful place for the Goddess’ epiphany: I set up an altar in my garden, place an image of Aphrodite upon it along with scallop shells (she was born from the sea); goat figurines (buck goats are sacred to Her); libation bowls filled with wine, oil and barley; a candle; a censer with frankincense incense; flowers and a bowl of lustral water for pre-ritual washing. I also dress in diaphanous robes and jewelry and wear make-up, because Aphrodite is concerned with indulgent display, not austerity.

At the altar I wash my hands with the water and sprinkle my surrounds. Next I strew barley upon it as an offering symbolising the gifts of the earth. I light a candle representing the hearth goddess, Hestia — who is always honored first in Olympian religion — and pour some wine to her. Then I read the two Homeric Hymns to Aphrodite —I believe the Goddess enjoys hearing them, and they also give me insights into her character. I subsequently pour libations of wine to Aphrodite and to two of her handmaidens, Peitho (persuasion) and Ambologera, (remover of old age).

Sometimes I break out of a strictly Reconstructionist ritual mode and recite something modern, such as the following contemporary invocation/prose-poem to Aphrodite, written by performance artist Joanna Frueh:

Venus Verticordia, changer of hearts, look me straight in the eye, then hug me, then look me in the eye again. Tell me stories about your ancestor, Aphrodite, our mother of Eros, whose child – his name, his works and play – have usurped Aphrodite’s authority.

Aphrodite, full of grace long before the birth of Mary, sometimes I fear I’ve lost you in the slim pickings of the sex-goddess incarnations who slightly reflect your radiance so wayward from the ironic lucidity I see in perfect pictures.

Venus Verticordia grieves: our mother Aphrodite, a wide-ranging aphrodisiac, an erotic pharmacopoeia, is stripped down to one simple, insufficiently effective drug. Aphrodisiac: mistaken for merely a substance to ingest.

Aphrodite, you stimulate me in intricately erotic ways. You arouse the pleasure I feel in my own beauty. Erotic: you mothered the meaning of this word, whose profundity is minimized by the synonym sexy – a useful colloquialism, shorthand for aphrodisiac.

Monster, mother, huge in the ability to praise yourself, I can look at you any time I see myself. Aphrodite, save me from the self-contempt elicited by approximating the ideal beauty. She is a fluffcake and a stalker who has betrayed monster/beauty, the pleasurable corporeality that is your domain.

Aphrodite, help me build the body of love.

(Poem by Joanna Frueh. Monster/Beauty: Building the Body of Love. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2001, pp. 9-10.)

Next, I light the traditional frankincense granules and offer thanks for the past graces I have received, and I pray for future blessings from several different manifestations of Aphrodite, distinguished by her epithets: Aphrodite Epitragidia (buck goat), Cyprian (from Cyprus), Philomeides (laughter-loving) and Eleemon (merciful).

After the formalities, I sit and meditate before the altar, listening for any communications from Deity. Sometimes I murmur my troubles and wishes to her at this time. To conclude, I pour a final libation to Hestia, then end the rite and dismantle my altar.

Friday, January 25, 2013

The Pagan Lindsay



Norman Lindsay (1879 - 1969) was one of Australia’s most controversial artists. Often accused of perverting the young, diabolism and pornography, Lindsay was really just somewhat ahead of his time in promoting a Greco-Australian Neo-Pagan aesthetic.

Lindsay was born in Creswick near Ballarat in Victoria to Methodist parents, and his grandfather had been a Methodist missionary in Fiji. The middle child of ten children, both Norman and his older brother Lionel became vehemently anti-Christian as they got older. A Graeco-Roman influence appears evident in Norman’s teenage years and can be discerned in the old photographs of the Lindsay teenagers dressed in flimsy togas or rabbit skins performing made-up versions of classically inspired plays or posing theatrically for the camera decked in leafy wreaths and the household curtains.

Lindsay was a man of varied interests: Olympian mythology, Spiritualism, the lost continent of Atlantis, sexuality, women and nature all combined to form a unique and personal type of worldview which many would term ‘Pagan’. Norman believed, like the Greeks, that the gods had come down from Olympus in ancient times and begotten children on the people of Earth. The blood of the Gods ran in the veins of this race of Olympians and revealed itself in those acts of creativity which set great painters, sculptors, poets, musicians and writers apart from and above the “unblest Earthmen”.

Norman’s Classical gods were wise, powerful and benevolent whereas he felt that the Christian god was a mischievous invention of latter-day myth-makers and responsible for endless human misery. When the Sydney printer and publisher Charles Shepard once suggested that Lindsay illustrate the Bible he replied “Oh no, no, no, couldn’t think of it Charlie. It’s a very dangerous book, had a very bad influence.”

Lindsay believed that ascetic Christianity was the enemy of all the things he himself stood for and made his opinion evident in his painting Pollice Verso, which depicted a crucified male figure on a cross in front of a crowd of his typically buxom figures who are giving the Roman “thumbs down” sign. Criticised as “anti-Christian, anti-social and degenerate”, Lindsay explained that the work did not represent Christianity, but asceticism, which he saw as anti-life.

The best representation of his philosophy, he felt, was “Woman as Creatress”, explaining this idea thus: “When the first World War ended, my mind was in a turmoil of emotions generated by it and these had to find an outlet. I found it in a concept of life dramatised by antithetical forces: energy versus inertia, conflict between love and hate, light and darkness, creation and destruction. In this concept the one assurance of continuity was the re-creation of life which drives it on into the future, over all obstacles and through all infernos. For the central symbol of that conflict I chose the image of femininity.”

When discussing the public's reaction to his work he explained “We know that the puritanical hatred of life has only one taboo: the glorification of the sex-function. Degrade it, spit at it, make a joke of it, brutalise it, falsify it, evade it and mob morality will approve. But lyricise it, love it, bring to its creation in art a passionate intensity and the mob will crucify you, or try to.” Lindsay despised what he called the “witch-burning furies of the mass mind” and responded to this kind of hypocritical attitude with his painting Crucified Venus which represents life and vitality crucified on the cross of denial and “wowserism”.

Lindsay felt that ribaldry was a fact of life: “Among the Romans, save only for the cold and academic Virgil, there is not one poet or prose writer who does not use its freed imagery wherever a theme calls for it. All of them, Catullus, Horace, Ovid, Martial, Juvenal, Apuleius, Petronius, would have regarded a ban put on such a salient aspect of the spectacle of life as a rank absurdity, which it is. That ban arrived with the blight of Christianity, with its priestly hatred of the body and its obscene obsession with sin which spread a dark miasma of joylessness over all experience which makes life worth living. Life became a penalty inflicted on man for being the thing he is, and which he was designed to be by the construction of his being. A writer who presents men and women as creatures truncated below the waist is exposed as one who goes about without his trousers saying, ‘see, I have had my testicles removed’… I am fanatic enough to believe that my thought is something the world needs.”

Lindsay was spurred on in his pursuits by his personal ‘daemon’. “I am not implying occultism in my use of that word ‘daemonic’. Every mind which has given itself to self-expression in art is aware of a directing agency outside its conscious control which it has agreed to label ‘inspiration’. The Greeks had no doubt about its being an Entity as distinct from the Ego. Poets are most aware of it.” Art critic, Robert Hughes, feels that the prolific Norman Lindsay has some claim to be the most forceful personality in the arts that Australia had ever seen. Immensely energetic, his talents spanned painting, drawing, watercolour, etching, art criticism, polemics, philosophy, illustration, political cartooning, novels, poetry, and writing for children. He even made model ships and sculpted concrete fauns.

Norman Lindsay’s name is synonymous with images of satyrs, maenads and wild-eyed, lustful supernaturals congregating in an Australian landscape. An important inspirational figure for Australian Pagans, Lindsay is a ‘spiritual forefather’ who was at the vanguard of the endeavor to acclimatise European Pagan deities to the Australian landscape – an ongoing project amongst many Australian Pagans today. A brave and opinionated fellow, Lindsay deserves to be revered as a champion of individuality and freedom of religion, as well as an enthusiastic Goddess worshipper. Pilgrimage to his shrine at Springwood in the Blue Mountains may result in fruitful possession by the Muse for the earnest seeker.

‘The Pagan Lindsay.’ Originally published in Green Egg Omelette. Ed. Oberon Zell. 44–46. Franklin Lakes NJ: New Page Books, 2008.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Florence Farr (and me) in the British Museum






This post consists of an excerpt out of my chapter on Florence Farr in the book, Women's Voices in Magic, as well as a section on my experience in the British Museum in regards to the topic of this chapter.

Florence Farr was initiated into the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn in 1892 and attained a position of national leadership by 1897. As a successful Golden Dawn initiate it was to be expected that Farr would become fascinated by Egyptian religion, considering the large part it played in Golden Dawn ceremonies, as well as Egypt’s ubiquitous presence in Late Victorian London exhibitions. In addition to assuming responsibility for the entire order in Britain, Farr composed and performed complex rituals to Egyptian deities, lectured publicly on Egyptological subjects, wrote two Egyptianising plays and after resigning from the Golden Dawn in 1902, was conducting her own ‘Egyptian’ initiations by 1903. Like Mathers, Farr utilised the British Museum as a place for both artistic inspiration and study. It was while researching material for her book, Egyptian Magic, in the British Museum in 1895 that Farr ‘made contact’ with what she described as ‘an Egyptian Adept’.

The identity of Farr’s ‘Egyptian Adept’ is contested. On the one hand, friends of hers to whom she left a wooden ‘shrine’ in which an Egyptian being allegedly dwelt claim that its name was Nemkheftka whereas on the other hand, eye-witnesses report that the name of the entity was Mut-em-menu. Either way, this ‘Adept’ was a long-dead ancient Egyptian that Florence obviously felt perfectly comfortable about ‘speaking’ with. The idea that one could converse with the dead was a staple of Victorian Spiritualism and it was a cornerstone of the Hermeticism that imbued the Golden Dawn that all knowledge is obtained through revelation, not reason. Ancient Egyptians had a habit of manifesting themselves to kindred spirits in the 1890s and even London journalists reviewing Late Victorian exhibits of Egyptian antiquities were liable to ‘reanimate and evoke the people of the past in a quasi-psychic way... as if through a medium.’ Consequently it was not at all unusual for Farr to believe that she could receive information through a discarnate entity she met in the British Museum.

Both Nemkheftka and Mut-em-menu were (and are) part of the Egyptian collection in the British Museum. Nemkheftka – actually Nenkheftka – is a painted limestone statue of a provincial official from Deshasha, dating to the 5th Dynasty, around 2400 BCE, at the height of the Old Kingdom. The statue was acquired by the British Museum in 1897, so ‘Nemkheftka’ could not have been the ‘personality’ Florence was in contact with in 1895, although it seems that he did fulfil that role after 1901. ‘Mut-em-menu’, a coffined mummy acquired by the British Museum in 1835, is a likelier candidate for Farr’s ‘Egyptian Adept’ at this time. Like other museum attendees, Farr would have been under the impression that Mutemmenu was ‘a lady of the college of the God Amen-Ra at Thebes’, however we now know that this description is only half correct. While the coffin is indeed that of Mutemmenu, a Chantress of Amun, dating from the 19th (1295-1186 BCE) or 20th (1186-1069 BCE) Dynasties, the mummy in the coffin dates from the Roman period (30 BCE – 395 CE) and is actually that of a man whose wrappings are padded and swathed so as to imitate feminine features such as breasts and rounded thighs. (According to X-rays taken in the 1960s. The mummy was most likely paired with this coffin by an Egyptian antiquities dealer, according to the Catalogue of Egyptian Antiquities in the British Museum. I: Mummies and Human Remains. Warren R. Dawson and P.H.K Gray, P.H.K. London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1968. xii).

It is understandable that in the 1890s this mummy would be taken at face value to have been female and Farr obviously deemed Mutemmenu a satisfactory link with the authentic Egyptian past. Fellow Golden Dawn member, William Butler Yeats, re-created Florence’s British Museum experiences in his unfinished novel The Speckled Bird where the hero, Michael Hearne (Yeats), accompanied by Maclagan (Mathers), was to meet a certain woman at the Britsh Museum who is later discovered meditating ‘with her eyes half closed on a seat close to the Mut-em-menu mummy case.’ She is not to be disturbed because, according to Maclagan, ‘she is doubtless conversing with Mut-em-menu’ who was, among other things, describing Farr’s past incarnations. Florence went to Paris in 1896 to confer with Mathers about her ‘Egyptian Adept’, a drawing of whom she had previously sent him. Mathers agreed that because the Egyptian had responded appropriately to signs that Florence had shown her, she was indeed ‘one of the 8˚=3˚’, making her one of the ‘Secret Chiefs’. He subsequently gave permission for Farr to form a group with higher degree members of the Golden Dawn to ‘work with’ the Egyptian.

Mutemmenu’s Coffin

The online catalogue of the British Museum shows images of the mummy associated with Mutemmenu’s coffin, but not the coffin itself. When I was in London in 2012, where I had appointments at the British Museum to look at Cypriot cylinder seals featuring images of tree cult and a Cypriot bronze cult stand also with images of tree cult, I was fortunately able to view Mutemmenu’s coffin. I hadn’t actually planned to see this coffin, but whilst happening to discuss it with one of the curators in the Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities (which was where the Cypriot material was) the curator suddenly offered to contact the Department of Egypt and the Sudan for me and see if I could get an appointment to view the coffin. Usually you’d need to book several weeks ahead however after a quick phone call I was able to get an appointment for the end of the week. When the time came I was able to view the coffin in the fascinating organic material store, the staff there having gotten it out of its storage shelf and placed it upon folding wooden legs so I could walk all the way around it as well as look underneath it.

The Department is happy for what they see as sincere researchers having access to the collection, and it is generally not hard to make appointments to view material in the British Museum’s study rooms. The Egyptian Antiquities curator I that was dealing with did say however, that they were not too happy when a girl made an appointment and just came and sat in the store with her eyes closed, apparently just ‘feeling the vibe’ (maybe she was channeling Florence Farr?). Perhaps, if you wanted to do such things, it would depend on whether you explained yourself sufficiently to the Department as to why you needed to do it in the store (and it sounds like they’d probably say no), or else perhaps concentrated on the mummies and artefacts that are already on public display. However, we need to remember that (unfortunately) it’s not the 1890s any more so you might find yourself being moved along by the guards (unless you were pretending to draw artefacts… or perhaps got the British Pagan group, Honoring the Ancient Dead, to organise one of their Pagan access appointments?).

Friday, January 4, 2013

Linden Postcard Show

I have three artworks in the upcoming Linden Postcard Show (beginning Feb 2013). The images pictured here are not anything to do with the ones in the show, they are just here for visual effect. I'm not showing the Linden artworks on the internet until the show opens.

The Linden Postcard Show opens on 1 Feb and runs from 2 feb to 23 March 2013. I'll send out invitations when I get them.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Memento Mori



Just a promotional post about a new anthology on all things 'death' in which I have a chapter - "Demeter’s Wrath: How The Eleusinian Mysteries Attempted To Cheat Death." Memento Mori is a unique feast of offerings exploring a variety of magical and mythological perspectives on death, dying, mortality and beyond. With contributions from sixteen international writers, this collection gathered together by Kim Huggens, offers a great diversity of both historical and contemporary perspectives. It includes experiential accounts and scholarly research for readers interested in magick, paganism, mysticism and mythology.The influence that death and the ancestors had and continues to have on religion, magick and everyday life is reflected and honoured in the prayers, poems, songs and artwork included in this exceptional anthology.

Contents:
- Introduction By Kim Huggens
- Communicating With The Blessed Dead By Tina Georgitsis
- Eating With The Dead:  Funeral Meal Practices By Tylluan Penry
- Cultivating The Dead: The Path Of Lilies And Water By Chad Barber
- Don’t Fear The Reaper:  The Evolution Of The Death Card In Tarot By Emily Carding
- Behind The Glasses Of Ghuedhe: Life In Death And Love In Both By Kyle Fite
- The Death Of Baphomet By Julian Vayne
- Papa Gede, Petit Gede: Spirits Of Death In Haitian Vodou By Sophia Fisher
- The Truth About Zombies, Or: How To Survive The Zombie Apocalypse By Kim Huggens
- Traditional Craft And The Cult Of The Dead By Michael Howard
- The Setian Way Of Death By Mogg Morgan
- Demeter’s Wrath: How The Eleusinian Mysteries Attempted To Cheat Death By Caroline Tully
- Dogs And Death  – Guardians, Omens And Psychopomps by Ivy Kerrigan
- Tomb-Cults, Caves, Stars & Blessed Isles: Heroic Interactions With The Otherworld & Life After Death By Karen F. Pierce
- “Now I Am Harvested And I Die”:  The Theatre Of Sacrifice In The Book Of The Provider By Peg Aloi
- Ascending To The Imperishable: Star Lore And Death In Ancient Egypt By Dave Moore
- Ars Moriendi By Humberto Maggi
- Prayer For The Good Spirits From the Book of Saint Cyprian (
Translation from the original Portuguese, and Introduction by Humberto Maggi )Death And The Lady (19th Century English broadside ballad)
Death, Be Not Proud From Holy Sonnets (Sonnet 10) by John Donne
I Am Stretched On Your Grave (Anonymous Irish poem, 17th century)
O, Death (American folk song, date unknown)
- To His Coy Mistress By Andrew Marvell
- Dèy Traditional Haitian song of mourning Translated by Kim Huggens

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Australian Yule: 21 June


















During this season of long dark nights, the constellations Sagittarius and Corona Australis can be seen rising in the east. When observing those stars, we face the very centre of our galaxy, the Milky Way. In southern Australia this is a time of reasonably cold weather but it is not exceptionally wet and almost never snows in the lowlands. Australian plants do not require a winter dormancy, although in Tasmania, our only deciduous tree, the deciduous beech, loses its leaves. Winter is a time of fecundity and growth, many trees are flowering and various animals, including the lyrebird and the sugar glider, are either mating or giving birth. In northern Australia it is the time of the cool dry season. The Bougainvillea festival is celebrated in Darwin and the bright purple flowers are characteristic of this season. Brolgas begin dancing, cassowaries start egg-laying, and white cockatoo chick hatch. For many northern Aboriginal people, this is a harvest time associated with abundant traditional foods.

Meditation: The June-flowering Cootamundra wattle is the universal axis tree, its tiny yellow blossoms symbolising both the infant sun of the earth year, and the multitude of sun-stars in the cosmos. Wattle reminds us that although we are as small as dust motes on a universal scale, at a human level we are all-potential. We perceive the local and the infinite, microcosm and macrocosm. We are stardust. Every man and every woman is a star.

Yule. The dawn procession moves silently except for the muffled crunch of boots upon the damp forest floor as we approach our regular winter ritual site, a large clearing among the eucalypts. In the centre, a Cootamundra wattle planted so many years ago is once again covered in joyous little yellow blossoms and we place candles in a ring around its feathery skirt.

A mother cradling a sleepy baby stands close to the wattle, within the circle of candles, and a libation of golden mead is poured on the earth at her feet. Linking hands, we dance deosil around the tree, chanting: ‘The Child of Promise, the sun’s new light, begin the year, emerge from night.”

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Interview with me for Fainomena Magazine

This is the English version of an interview conducted with me when I was in Greece in April 2012 by Sasha Chaitow. It appeared in Greek in the 2 June issue of PHENOMENA Magazine, distributed with the Eleftheros Typos newspaper.


What brings you to Greece? Can you tell me a little about your research and what has led you to select this particular topic?

I’m doing a PhD at the University of Melbourne, Australia, on tree cult in the prehistoric Aegean, Cyprus and Israel. I’m in Greece at the moment on a research trip investigating the depiction of ritual scenes involving trees on Minoan-style (Bronze Age Crete and Mycenaean Greece) gold rings and seal stones. In the last two days I’ve been fortunate to be able to study, first hand, some of the gold rings from the National Archaeological Museum of Athens. I’m also checking out some Mycenaean rural sanctuaries such as that of Apollo Maleatas at Epidauros and Athena Pronaia at Delphi. Then I’m going to Crete to do more research in the Heraklion museum and at archaeological sites. I’m going to end up in the UK where I will look at Cypriot cylinder seals, featuring ritual interaction with trees, at the British Museum and the Ashmolean. Also, at the latter, I’ll be looking at more Minoan gold rings. I’m focussing my PhD on this topic as part of a broader interest I have in the deification of aspects of the natural world.

What led you to study archaeology?

I have a degree in Fine Art from the 1990s, but I’ve been involved in modern Paganism since 1985. During my involvement with Paganism, as the years went by, and particularly in the early years of the 2000s after the publication in 1999 of British historian Ronald Hutton’s history of modern Pagan Witchcraft “The Triumph of the Moon”, I started to question the claims of historicity that Pagan leaders and authors were telling me (and everyone else). I went back to university in 2004 specifically in order to compare what modern Pagans were claiming about Paganism’s “ancientness” with what academic specialists in ancient religions had found. I came to realise that modern Paganism looks nothing like ancient versions. I was in the Classics and Archaeology department where I had done an interesting subject called “The Archaeology of Cult” in which I studied ancient Israelite religion, and I ended up doing my PhD with the lecturer from that course, Louise Hitchcock, who is an Aegean specialist.

You’re an active contributor to the international Pagan community: can you tell me a little bit about your relationship with Paganism (what is it for you?)

I started off in Paganism via Ceremonial Magick (Aleister Crowley), and then moved on to American-style Wicca (Starhawk). I’ve got interests in, and been through, several types of Paganism. I’m a Witch, I’ve been involved with idealistic “green” Pagan groups such as the Church of All Worlds, and am an initiate in the Ordo Templi Orientis among other things. I have a strong leaning toward Reconstructionist Paganism – the type of contemporary Paganism that strives to revive ancient Pagan religions though a close adherence to ancient textual and archaeological sources, but I see good points in modern or ‘pop’ Paganism; its ecological and feminist aspects particularly. In the early 2000s I became aware of the academic study of Paganism and found it so interesting that I had to make an effort to educate myself (by going back to university) so I could participate in this international scholarly scene. I guess my primary interest in that regard is in “Reception Studies”, specifically the reception of the ancient world by modern Pagans.

How do you perceive Pagan deities? Are they personified archetypes, energies, real, or something else?

I suppose these days I would go with the “personification of natural and cultural forces” explanation. In my deepest heart, I prefer a non-anthropomorphic vision of “deities”, seeing them as components of the physical world such as land, plants, sea, weather, sky, stars, so in that case I suppose that could be considered “atheistic” – but when interacting with those deities I do tend to put an anthropomorphic “guise” on them and act like they can converse with me, or at least hear me. It’s probably just easier to relate to something that looks relatable.

What is the field of Pagan studies?

Well, I think Pagan Studies is an interdisciplinary approach to studying modern manifestations of Paganism. It tends to consist of scholars who study Paganism from within disciplines such as anthropology, sociology, religious studies, theology, history and archaeology. Many Pagan Studies scholars are Pagan themselves, others are not Pagan but study communities of practitioners in an ethnographic capacity, sometimes for decades.

Why should someone get involved with Pagan Studies? What can it offer practising Pagans, and what can it offer the general academic field?

From an academic viewpoint, I simply think modern Paganism is a fascinating topic. I’m not sure why other academics study it, I guess they all have their own different reasons depending on their disciplines, but for me it is about investigating the ways in which the past − the ancient world − has been received and interpreted in the present, because Paganism is very much concerned with the past and gaining legitimacy and authenticity from having a past, plus the past is where we tend to get a lot of our inspirational material such as mythology and traditional ritual practices. For Pagans themselves, I think the academic study of Paganism provides another view on what we do, another angle that we might not see from the “inside” of Paganism so to speak, and that is enlightening. In fact, I think Pagan Studies can function as a stimulus to modern Paganism, challenging us to be better, more creative and also more rigorous in our use of source material (as modern Paganism is still “under construction”, it’s a work in progress).

What are the most serious issues facing the international (or individual) Pagan communities?

I suppose it is the fact that to a large extent, contemporary Pagans are still either considered illicit, weird, or both. Centuries of bad press by the Christian Church(es) has made Paganism seem equal to demon-worship in the eyes of many, and this reputation is hard to shake. The Pagan deities are not taken seriously as gods by the more established monotheistic religions – and hence by broader society – and Pagan religious practice is considered less important than the rites and rituals of more established religions. This can have negative consequences for “out” Pagans in regards to employment, child custody, being taken seriously, and reputation in general, so it is understandable that many Pagans do not broadcast their religious affiliation. And it is simply not fair (!) as it is no secret that there are many religions that are in fact much more irrational, intolerant and violent than Paganism which, although inspired by the past, tends to be very ethical and progressive.

In Greece, Pagan Studies are practically unheard of, but there is a small, if fragmented Pagan community. How do you think awareness of the field of Pagan Studies might benefit this community?

I think it could work both ways: for Pagan Studies scholars, the Greek Pagan scene is a fascinating pool of study material that is as yet untapped; while for the actual Hellenic Pagans themselves, as with any modern Pagans, I think the respectful study of their religious practices by Pagan Studies scholars can provide Hellenic Pagans with another view of themselves – this would possibly bring to light some aspects that practitioners were not aware of and which they might like or dislike, or which they might want to cherish, or change. In any event, I think academic study of contemporary Greek Paganism would be invigorating for both parties. I’d personally like to see Classics and/or archaeology scholars looking at modern Hellenic Paganism.

For someone who is both a practising Pagan and an academic, how do they strike a balance between a personal faith and academic study of that faith?

I’m not entirely sure, as I don’t tend to have to do that. I think it is mainly the anthropologists and sociologists who have specific methodologies worked out regarding their academic researching self and their participant-observer self. It probably depends on how much they are actually spiritually invested in Paganism. And of course, some would say that Paganism is not so much about “belief” or “faith” but about ritual practice − although that implies belief in the ritual’s efficacy. I think regardless of their own personal beliefs, professional scholars tend to adopt methodological atheism in their written material for their academic peers, but not always – Graham Harvey, Jenny Blain and Doug Ezzy have challenged the traditional position of scholars doing participant-observation of religion, specifically Paganism, in their book “Researching Paganisms” (Altamira Press, 2004).

Many non-Greek Hellenic Pagans and occultists tend to use Greek terminology in their rituals. How important is it, do you think, to learn ancient Greek when performing such rituals? Is it enough to simply repeat the ritual without learning the language as a whole?

Ideally, I would say that if you are a Hellenic Pagan – or any sort of Reconstructionist Pagan – that you need to make an effort to learn the language that the ancient texts are written in, if you are going to use them. If you are a Neo-Pagan incorporating Classical deities in your essentially eclectic ritual structure and practice however, then I would suggest that it is still desirable, but less essential. Pagan Reconstructionism is specifically about using ancient sources and while you can use them in translation (and have to if you can’t read the ancient languages), ideally you should learn the language, otherwise you really do not know what you are saying. I am not suggesting that you do not participate in Hellenic Reconstructionist rituals if you cannot read the language, and if you have to use a modern language such as English, then so be it, I repeat however, ideally, you’d learn ancient Greek.

The question of authenticity often arises when talking about Paganism, as there are those that claim that modern Pagan interpretations are no more than modern imaginings of ancient practices, and others for whom this is either insignificant or untrue. What do you consider authentic, and how important do you think it is for modern Pagan practices to be faithful to original sources?

Authenticity is a contentious topic in Paganism. I think with Neo-Paganism − derived as it is from Wicca which dates to the 1950s and which itself is derived from late 19th and early 20th century folklore, anthropology, and attempted histories of the Witch Trials – because it is contemporary in that it has an ecological and feminist bent, but looks to ancient material for inspiration, questions of historical authenticity should be abandoned. Religious authenticity on the other hand, is something that ought to be striven for. Modern Paganism does not need to have an unbroken historical lineage – and we know it doesn’t – so let’s concentrate on religious, social and cultural experiences rather than “authenticity” (which is probably what a lot of Pagans uninterested in “lineage” are doing anyway). That is not to say that Neo-Pagans should not use historical material for inspiration, of course they should if they want. When it comes to Pagan Reconstructionism on the other hand, its whole purpose is to reconstruct ancient Pagan religions, so historical authenticity is important and deviation from that – as in the case of “unsubstantiated personal gnosis” − needs to be clear.

What is the difference between Wicca and Paganism?

Wicca is a form of religious witchcraft founded in Britain in the 1950s. It is based on the now out-dated idea that those people persecuted in the European Witch Trials, between the 15th and 18th centuries, were members of an ancient Pagan religion. Wicca is characterised by membership in a group, or “coven”, entry to which is via initiation, performance of rituals coinciding with lunar and solar cycles, male and female deities that represent aspects of the natural world, and the practise of magic. Paganism on the other hand, is a larger category and can range from modern- or “Neo”-Paganism, which looks very much like Wicca and is derived from it, to Pagan Reconstructionism, the attempt to revive ancient Pagan religions in a historically correct manner, as far as possible, based on material from ancient texts, iconography and archaeology.

Wicca is quite popular in Greece, but there is a distinct lack of bibliography and interpretations tend to be quite eclectic. What would you advise people who want to learn more about it?

There are hundreds, if not thousands, of books on Wicca that are easily available. Plus the internet is absolutely saturated with it and it is very easy to find information on it. Personally, I would advise people to investigate historically attested types, or reports, of witchcraft alongside an investigation into modern Wicca. I guess I’m suggesting a “Reconstructionist” approach based on historically authentic sources – although there is also a lot of great modern material out there as well – so that you can be aware of the actual histories of witchcraft practices and not rely on the often inaccurate “history” as found in many modern “How To” books on Wicca.

In Greece, the terms “Pagan” and “Paganism” are seen as pejorative due to the way they are used by the Church. Hellenic Pagans tend to prefer the expression “Ethnikoi” or ethnic Hellenes. Why have the terms “Pagan” and “Paganism” become so popular abroad, and how is Paganism defined?

Pagan is one of those pejorative words that have been reclaimed along with Witch and Heathen. I suppose it is because paganus is the Latin term for “country dweller” and when modern Wiccan-inspired Paganism started to coalesce, it was – and still is – characterised by seasonal festivals based on the solar cycles, moon rituals, respect for the earth and its non-human inhabitants such as animals and plants, has deities that represent natural forces, promotes acceptance of the body and sexuality, and living life in the here and now, and “Paganism” seemed a good description of this kind of religious expression. In addition, Wicca was thought, back then, to be a suppressed and persecuted form of Paganism and there was the idea – still prevalent in many Wiccan groups – that “Wiccans” or Witches are the “clergy” of Paganism and “Pagans” are the laity, but this is actually not correct – ancient Paganism was not facilitated by “Witches” but by Priests and Priestesses and people did their own domestic observance as well. While Hellenic Pagans, as well as other types of Reconstructionist Pagans, may use different terms for themselves, sometimes this is because they are embarrassed by the “creative” (inaccurate) use of history and perceived New Agey approach to the deities perceived as characteristic of Neo-Paganism – and which Reconstructionists seek to distance themselves from. Although “Paganism” is a general term used to describe non-Abrahamic and indigenous polytheistic religions, so it is applicable to Reconstructionists as well.