Myths are ubiquitous. These quintessential stories have flourished everywhere throughout the inhabited world from the earliest traces of language to the present glut of artificial intelligence, arising to give meaning to all phenomena perceived and conceptualized by humans. The mythic tales involve gods and heroes, natural and preternatural events, and all the lore, folk tales and fairy tales, poem and song, that gives meaning to the values and beliefs of a culture. Myths are generally considered necessary to serve three primary needs of humanity: to explain natural events as simple as a change of seasons or as complex as the northern lights; to teach the ethics and morality to the members of any particular society; and to help preserve the unique identity or cultural beliefs of a community.
The oldest myths of record are those that date from from 2300 BCE. This dating leaves a large gap between the written records that have been discovered and the use of the spoken word to share ideas. A recent article in Neuroscience News1 calculates that language abilities akin to modern humans were in use more than 100,000 years ago and was thought to have become widespread among Homo sapiens and perhaps Neanderthals. The study involved both archaeological research as well as genetic analysis. If such is the case, if so called symbolic thinking is that old, surely the dating of myths should be older as well.
Though the spoken word and symbolic thinking was existent, apparently the written word took far longer to develop. The dearth of writing samples is, in part, due to the fragility of the medium itself. Whatever the case, the earliest written examples are the Sumerian cuneiform from around 3400 BCE and the Egypt hieroglyphs from 3200–3100 BCE, suggesting that writing was not widespread until the 4th century BCE. The written word, of course, was necessary to document the oral traditions.
The Odyssey of Homer, for example, existed as an oral tradition for centuries, surviving through the use of a phrasing so framed as to be mnemonic, a technique that was the collective inheritance of many singer-poets. The perilous voyage of Aeneas did not become part of the written record until the 8th century BCE. The Iliad, Homer’s story of the Trojan War, also existed only as an oral tradition until the 8th century. The actual ‘Trojan War’ may have occurred around 1200 BCE according to the work of modern archaeologists.
Common themes run through all of mythology. Giants, for example, are featured in the lore of such disparate groups as pseudo-historical Irish folklore of the 12th century and the prehistoric tales of Cochimi Indians of east central Baja California. From Pangu (盘古) of China to the Greek Titans, giants are featured in most creation myths; and often represent the primeval chaos of nature against which evolving hominids vied for survival. In Ireland, Fionn mac Huaill (Finn McCool) began as a mere mortal, but years of embellishments raised him up to giant size, becoming famous as the leader of the Fianna warrior bands, an army of men who were required to be as efficient with poetry as they were with the sword. Mythic tales of Finn’s adventures include the Salmon (Thumb) of Knowledge and the creation of the Giant’s Causeway. And 5000 miles away, in the Sierra de San Francisco, a mountain range just north of Mulegé on the Baja peninsula, one finds the incredible murals of massive scale that the indigenous people ascribed to a race of giants, paintings that have been dated from 1500 to 7000 years old.
All the major themes undergo revision to fit local cultural themes, times and places. The Biblical flood is a specific rendering of the ubiquitous flood motif that, like giants, occurs world wide. The story of Cain and Abel is another ancient mythology that was shaped to fit the Biblical lore. Brother contending with brother is itself a variation of the archetypical son versus father story. Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex (429 BCE) and Shakespeare’s Hamlet (1600) are two of many subsequent versions of the theme.
All of the trials and tribulations of modern men and women were prefigured in the hero myths. The formula is everywhere the same: the hero is called to adventure; help arrives in the form of a sage of some type; the hero sallies forth once more; the danger is overcome; and the hero returns successfully. The pattern fits everything from a military reconnaissance to a young girl going off to school for the day.
As for Finn McCool, the Irish hero, he had been raised as a warrior’s son and had acquired the skills of the sword quite early. He gained the additional wisdom he needed for his subsequent adventures from the sage Finegas. How that came about is told in the story ‘The Salmon Of Knowledge’:
The sage Finegas (Finn Eces) had spent seven years fishing the River Boyne for a salmon that was said to contain all the knowledge of the world (from eating chestnuts that fell from the tree of knowledge—such is myth). Finn, still a young boy, had been sent to the poet-seer to round out his education. At long last, Finegas hooked his fish. Elated, he gave the salmon to Finn telling the boy to cook it but on no account was he to eat any of it. Finn did as he was told. Built a fire, ran a green limb through the fish, and began to cook the salmon, turning it over and over. But when he touched the fish with his thumb to see if it was cooked through, a drop of hot scalding fat burnt his finger. Finn instinctively sucked on his burned thumb to ease the pain, unaware that all the salmon’s wisdom had been concentrated into that one drop of fat. When he brought the cooked meal to Finegas, the man saw immediately the change in the boy: his eyes shone with a previously unseen wisdom. Finegas demanded an explanation. Had he disobeyed and eaten some of the salmon? Quickly giving a shake of the head, the boy explained what had happened. Finegas realized then that Finn had received the wisdom of the salmon, that his dream of knowing all had, by misadventure, gone awry. With nothing to be done, Finegas reluctantly gave the rest of the fish to the boy to eat. The knowledge of the world was his. For the rest of his life, Finn could draw upon this knowledge merely by biting his thumb. The deep knowledge and wisdom gained from the Salmon of Knowledge allowed the boy to become a mighty warrior and assume the leadership of the Fianna, the famed heroes of Irish myth.
Unfortunately, he also had the misfortune to fall in love with the enchanting young Gráinne who had other ideas than marriage to old Finn. He became the victim of a love triangle (another common myth: the vagaries of love: Tristan and Iseult, Romeo and Juliet, Abelard and Heloise); and his unrequited love haunted him the rest of his life.
Yet another aspect of myth is the mysterious death of the hero. There is always some puzzling element casting doubt. In Finn McCool’s case, legend is divided between his death in the catastrophic Battle of Gavra, or while attempting a magical leap over the River Boyne, or never dying at all. This last is the current favorite of the Irish. McCool and a band of his warriors, it is said, are but sleeping in a cave, biding their time, waiting to arise again when Ireland is most in need. Resurrection is no stranger to myth.
Beside the mythical tales, the keys to the hero’s growing awareness, his ability to overcome all trials, can be found in art, literature, philosophy, and disciplines both spiritual and ascetic (all the knowledge of the world in a bit of salmon). As he meets each test, his stature grows (is that what gave rise to giants?), until he has risen to the gods, and finally, surpasses them. Or, in the words of Joseph Campbell:2
Finally, the mind [of our hero, or Buddha, or Christ, for that matter] breaks the bounding sphere of the cosmos to a realization transcending all experiences of form—all symbolizations, all divinities: a realization of the ineluctable void.
ESP.LITERATURE 
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