Llew Llaw Gyffes: The Initiation of the Divine Son©
by Mary Pat Mann
(Note: This essay presents an interpretation of Llew
Llaw Gyffes' story as it appears in the legend Math
Son of Mathonwy, and assumes that readers will be
familiar with the events of that portion of the Welsh
Mabinogion. Although I refer to specific parts of
this story, I do not recount the story in full. If
you would like to review the original, please go to:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/mab/math.htm)
Llew is often presented to modern readers as the
plucky, but naive, hero-child who surmounts the
malicious curses of his uncaring mother with the
loving help of his good-hearted, if tricky, uncle.
Looked at through another lens, there is much more to
his story than that. In this essay, we'll try another
lens and see what comes into view.
Who is Llew? Usually, he is considered to be a
cognate of the Irish god Lugh. Although there are
more tales of Lugh as an adult, we know little of his
childhood. It might be that the story of Llew
contains a missing piece of Lugh's history. Both Llew
and Lugh are gods of light, skilled in many crafts.
Both share many hallmarks of a hero's birth: a
difficult or unusual conception, a virgin birth (both
sons of mothers who were not supposed to have known
men), a childhood separated from one or both parents,
and unusual portents and events surrounding them. (1)
More specifically, both Llew and Lugh were conceived
in circumstances that are unclear at best and
surrounded by possibilities of deception and trickery.
Lugh's mother Ethlinn was sequestered away by Balor,
her father, hidden in a crystal tower to prevent his
conception. A prophecy foretold that Ethlinn's son
would one day kill his grandfather. The stories say
that Cian, son of Dian Cecht, was Lugh's father,
smuggled into the tower with the help of the Druidess
Birog. But little is said of Ethlinn's part in all
this. Did she receive Cian willingly, or did he use
trickery or force to gain his ends?
Even less is known of Llew's parentage. Dropped on
the floor of a castle as his mother Arianrhod stepped
over Math's wand, he is swept into a chest by his
uncle Gwydion. Did Math engender him through the
magic of the wand, tricking or forcing Arianrhod in
some way? Was Gwydion also his father? Or was he the
son of the goddess alone, through the power of the
moon?
Both boys are separated from their mothers at birth
and raised under their fathers direction, but not
directly by them. Both are also separated from twin
brothers, who seek the sea and live there ever after.
Clearly there are parallels between them, although
their stories are not identical.
We know nothing of Ethlinn's qualities as a mother.
In Arianrhod, there is no maternal warmth, no
appearance of loving care for her sons. But then,
Arianrhod is not a typical mother. She is a goddess,
and a virgin goddess at that. She is virgin in the
ancient sense of the word; not under the control of
any man, she is one-in-herself, spiritually and
emotionally whole.(2)
What should Llew's
relationship be to such a mother?
To become a man, he must give up childish dependence.
Through trials and initiations, he must learn that
seeking only to feed his animal desires will not feed
his soul; that his ego and intellect alone lack the
power to pierce the veil of the ancient mysteries.
So, tradition tells us, he must find his own path and
accept his own fate.(3)
Unfortunately, Llew's story is bound up with other
themes. Gwydion and Math, his maternal uncles, should
be sponsoring his initiations into the mysteries of
the goddess. Instead they are seeking to replace the
goddess with a new male-dominated spirituality with
(no surprise here) themselves at the helm. As a
result, Llew's three early trials (for a name,
weapons, and a wife) become contests between Gwydion
and Arianrhod rather than opportunities for Llew
himself to grow in power and understanding.
Gwydion is often seen as a positive figure, a skilled
magician and able caretaker of his nephew/son. Yet
events within the tale suggest that his aspirations
are patriarchal. First, he engineers an entire war
solely to arrange the rape of the virgin Goewin by his
own brother. Goewin is footholder to Math, the king,
and therefore is the source of his power and
sovereignty. Any violence, and rape in particular, in
such circumstances is generally interpreted as an
attempt by men to wrest control of spiritual matters
from goddesses. Second, he tricks Arianrhod into
providing fake initiations to Llew. In this way, he
seeks to control her, the boy, and the process.
Third, with Math's help, he seeks to create a wife for
Llew who is not born of woman, an impossible but
sought-for male prerogative.
Llew successfully acquires many skills during these
early years; all the skills, in fact, that he will
need. But it is possible to become very skilled
indeed and still lack any understanding of the deeper
meaning of life. And so we see Llew and Blodeuwedd,
his flower wife, happily together in the pleasant life
provided for them by Gwydion, and we know the story
won't end there. Gwydion is happy; he is poised to
succeed Math as king and has his own successor, Llew,
under his thumb. Llew and Blodeuwedd are
controllable, he thinks, because they are still
children, still naive, still uninitiated. Despite
Gwydion's plans, though, we know this scenario is not
stable. Gently or otherwise, life always opens the
eyes of its children.
Enter Gronw the hunter. He is not a spiritual man.
But he is a man, not a boy, and Blodeuwedd wants him.
Since she believes she has a right to whatever she
wants, she takes him. Now in the power of a stronger
desire than any she has experienced, she will go
wherever that desire takes her. So she and her lover
plot the murder of her husband.
Llew, for his part, suspects nothing. He happily
tells Blodeuwedd the only way he can be killed. To
satisfy her curiosity, he act is out for her. But
then, the dart pierces him. He turns to see Gronw, a
stranger to him, standing there. He turns again to
see Blodeuwedd's face. At that moment, he realizes
that his life has been a sham.
What then happens to Llew? He is a child of light,
following a bright path. He transforms into an eagle,
bird of the sun, and flies upward. But this avails
him nothing. The blinding light cannot heal this
wound and the heat only increases his pain. He flies
until he can fly no more. Then, landing, he seeks
darkness, shadows, hidden places, and the shelter of
an oak.
This is the time of Llew's real initiation. This
period, not described in the story, is his dark night
of the soul, the crux of his crisis. We can only
guess at the realizations he experiences; but one,
perhaps, is the wisdom of his elder twin. Dylan chose
a water path, a shadow path, and so avoided the
machinations of his uncles. Perhaps Llew comes to
realize that the bright path is not always the easier
one, although it often appears so. It is easy to
become unbalanced on a bright path, to think that
light is all there is, that the sun can vanquish any
darkness, that shadows are not important and should be
avoided.
When Gwydion finds him, Llew's only companions are
animals of the dark goddess, the worm and the sow.
Modern readers often find them repellent, especially
the worms. But consider Llew's state at this point:
He is wounded and his wound is festering. If the
decaying flesh is not removed, he will die. Most
probably, the worms were really maggots, even more
repellent to the modern reader. Healers, however,
have used maggots to clean wounds since ancient times,
deliberately applying them to eat away diseased flesh.
They were used that way as late as the Napoleonic
Wars; not by the scientific physicians, but by old
campaigners and battle-hardened Army surgeons.
The sow and the worms, then, are only removing that
which is already dead. In the spiritual sense, Llew
is shedding his old life to make way for the new. In
shamanic terms, he is being dismembered; the sow and
the worms are the allies assisting him. This stage is
essential to his growth.
This leads to the question of whether Gwydion, once
again, interferes too soon. Maybe, instead of saving
Llew's life, he interrupts his transformation before
it is complete. Gwydion sings Llew back into human
form still grievously wounded. Was this the best
choice? Or, if left to complete his vigil, would Llew
have emerged more powerful still? Was this precisely
what Gwydion was trying to prevent?
Looked at in this way, the efforts of Gwydion and Math
on behalf of patriarchy serve only to delay Llew's
initiations and ultimately to endanger him. The
uncles also implicate Llew in their efforts to control
the sexuality of the women in the story, such
domination being the key to a successful patriarchy.
Despite their best efforts, however, Arianrhod,
Blodeuwedd and, to a lesser extent, Goewin set in
motion the key actions of the story. In the end, they
are the initiators. Llew's initiation may have been
incomplete, but many are. There will be other
opportunities for him.
There is no more to Llew's story except that he
eventually became king. Turning back to Lugh, though,
tells us that, somehow or other, he learned to stand
on his own two feet, know the goddess as she would be
known, and himself become a god.
Notes
Llew Llaw Gyffes: The Initiation of the Divine Son copyright © 2002 by Mary Pat Mann, all rights reserved. Go Back
Mary Pat Mann lives in rural southeast Ohio with her husband, two children, two dogs, and many deer, wild turkey, racoons, squirrels, herons, hawks, foxes and other assorted wildlife. She's been drawn to Irish history and legend since she was very young, but only began exploring the shamanic path four years ago when an illness forced her to give up her career and refocus. It's a doors close, doors open kind of thing!
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