The Golden Bough is a compilation of anthropological lore from

around the world, from both ancient societies and contemporary

ones of the author's era. Frazer's goal in researching and writing the
book was to discover the mystery behind the Golden Bough and
the King of the Wood. This so-called king guarded the sacred grove
of the goddess Diana at Nemi, Italy, and likely served as its priest.
Periodically, the priest-king was challenged by a successor, who first
had to break off a piece of the Golden Bough to initiate the contest.
The priest and his challenger fought to the death; if the challenger
won, he became the new King of the Wood.
Throughout the book's 69 chapters, Frazer ties together possible
historical clues to explain this tradition. He begins by detailing the
key figures related to the Nemi story, including the Roman goddess
Diana and her consort, Virbius, and their Greek counterparts,
Artemis and Hippolytus. He then offers his theories on the nature of
magic and religion, two of the book's key topics. Sympathetic magic
is described as magic in which "things act on each other at a
distance through a secret sympathy." Frazer breaks down
sympathetic magic into two types: homoeopathic, or imitative, magic
and contagious magic. In homoeopathic magic, the idea of "like
affects like" applies. For example, if a magician wants rain to fall, he
might sprinkle water on the ground as a "rain charm." In contagious
magic, items that have been in contact are believed to remain in
contact, including personal possessions, body parts, food one has
eaten, and so on. A magician might use such items to work magic
on a person.
Frazer proposes that magic evolved into religion and then into
science, and claims religion involves a more sophisticated belief
system than magic. This evolution happened over time, as "private
magicians" who worked for themselves morphed into "public
magicians" who worked for the community. Eventually, these public
magicians gained prominence and power and became rulers. Frazer
describes a wide variety of such figures, including "priestly kings,"
"magicians as kings," "incarnate human gods," and "departmental
kings of nature."

Frazer then explores a different aspect of the King of the Wood

myth: the worship of trees, nature spirits, and related lore. Such
worship continued into Frazer's time in the various traditions of May
Day celebrated throughout Europe. Underlying such celebrations is
often the idea of a "sacred marriage" of male and female deities,
such as Diana and her consort. Frazer specifically points to the
worship of the oak, which was honored by European cultures such
as the Greeks, Celts, and Germans. After this, Frazer offers several
chapters on the burdens of royalty, including tabooed (or prohibited)
acts, people, things, and words. In most cultures all people observed
some taboos, but taboos were especially strict for royalty. This was
because people believed their land's welfare depended on their
ruler's welfare; if the ruler was sick or injured, the people and the
land would fail. Taboos were also instituted to protect the soul.
Various cultures believed the soul could escape the body or be
stolen away, or believed the soul existed in a person's shadow or
reflection.

Frazer then turns to kingship, particularly the "killing of the divine

king." He theorizes kings gave up their life to restore fertility to the
land. Sometimes a temporary king was appointed to die in the king's
stead; this temporary king might even be the king's son. Frazer
offers diverse examples of the "dying and reviving god," including
Adonis, Attis, Osiris, and Dionysus. A related tradition was the
"killing of the tree-spirit," in which various figures representing winter
or death were ceremonially "killed" so the new life of spring and
summer could burst forth. Such figures included the Carnival effigy
and effigies of Death. A May Queen and King or similar figures often
represented spring and summer, respectively; their marriage would
bless the land with abundant vegetation. Similarly, many cultures
worshipped a goddess who personified abundant vegetation, grains,
or nature in general; examples include Isis, Demeter,
and Persephone, along with unnamed nature spirits such as the
Corn-mother, Corn-maiden, Rice-mother, and corn-spirit.
Sometimes the corn-spirit and various deities were perceived as
animals; thus, eating certain animals could be a sacrament in one
place and taboo in another.
Beginning in Chapter 55 Frazer discusses the transference of evil
through magic. People believed they could rid themselves of
problems by transferring their woes to objects, animals, or other
people. Many cultures believed in demons—which could exist
almost anywhere—and people had ceremonies to expel them. Often
they appointed a "public scapegoat" to suffer the punishment. This
could be an object or animal, such as a small boat or a sacred cow,
or it could be a human. This object, animal, or person took on the
community's evils and was generally sent away, destroyed, or killed.
One such human sacrifice was the god in Mexico, who "died in the
person of one human representative and came to life again in the
person of another."
Frazer then relates the myth of Balder. The mischief-maker Loki
tricked Balder's brother into killing Balder by shooting him with a
sprig of mistletoe; Balder's body was burned in a funeral fire.
Because people believed Balder would live again, Frazer considers
him another example of the dying and reviving god. After Frazer
shares this myth, he discusses fire festivals, which he believes were
inspired by the myth of Balder. Such fires may have been charms to
ensure plentiful sunshine, or they may have been aimed at
purification, "to burn up and destroy all harmful influences." Some
cultures burned effigies, animals, and even human sacrifices in the
fire.
To end the book Frazer guesses at the identity of the famed Golden
Bough; he concludes it is mistletoe. He notes mistletoe often grows
on oak trees, which are sacred in various cultures; it is evergreen
and thus undying; and it was seen to exist "between heaven and
earth" because it grows at the top of trees rather than on the ground.
For these reasons some cultures believed the soul of the King of the
Wood god lived within the mistletoe, and the god was vulnerable to
death if the mistletoe was plucked. Frazer proposes that this belief
underlies the myth of the King of the Wood at Nemi, which explains
why a challenger had to pluck the Golden Bough to defeat the
current priest.

The Golden Bough is divided into 69 titled chapters on various topics.

Many of these chapters are further broken down into numbered
sections that offer analysis on a specific aspect of the chapter topic.

Summary

Preface
James George Frazer states his book's main goal in the first
sentence: "The primary aim of this book is to explain the remarkable
rule which regulated the succession to the priesthood of Diana at
Aricia." He says he has spent 30 years researching the topic; at first
he thought it would be simple enough, but the more he delved into it,
the more he realized in-depth explanations were required to
illuminate the subject. He says he expanded the book to 12 volumes
and then went on to create the abridged version "to bring the work
within a range of a wider circle of readers." He points out the
abridged version does not contain the many citations and notes
given in the full work, and gives an example of this by offering some
of the original citations from the section on "the practice of putting
kings to death." He concludes the priesthood at Aricia was not
"exceptional" but rather a practice observed in many cultures around
the world. He also acknowledges his explanation may not be
correct; this "must be left to the future to determine," and he is open
to new theories. He further mentions two important topics he will
address in the book: the worship of trees (including the so-called
Golden Bough) and the fear of the dead, which he believes "to have
been probably the most powerful force in the making of primitive
religion."

Chapter 1: The King of the Wood

Chapter 1 discusses some of the key mythology underlying the
priest of Nemi, the King of the Wood, and includes three sections.
1. Diana and Virbius
Frazer describes the beautiful landscape surrounding "Diana's
Mirror," a small lake in Nemi, Italy—sometimes called Aricia in days
gone by. This land is the setting for "a strange and recurring
tragedy" of ancient times. In a sacred grove dedicated to Diana
Nemorensis—Diana of the Wood—lived a sword-wielding man who
"was a priest and murderer," vigilant against attack from the man
who would become his successor. Such a man would "sooner or
later murder him and hold the priesthood in his stead." This was how
the priest of Nemi assumed office, and how his tenure ended—in
murder. Frazer says this act has no precedent in classical antiquity
(ancient Greece and Rome, for example), and "to find an
explanation we must go further afield," to the customs of "a
barbarous age ... the early history of man." Frazer believes if he can
show how and why such a custom existed previously, then he can
draw inferences regarding the priesthood at Nemi. He notes only a
runaway slave was permitted to challenge the priest, but to do so he
must first break off a branch of the Golden Bough, which grew within
the grove.

Frazer then details the worship of Diana, which supposedly spread

to Italy at the hand of Orestes, who fled to Nemi after committing
murder in the far-off land of Tauris. Orestes carried with him a statue
of the Tauric Diana, which became the foundation of her worship in
Italy. Diana was a goddess of the woods, hunters, and fertility,
"blessing men and women with offspring" and helping pregnant
women during childbirth. A perpetual fire was likely maintained at
her sanctuary. Her consort, Virbius, "reigned as king," and Frazer
proposes Virbius was none other than the Greek hero Hippolytus—
whom he addresses in Section 2 of the chapter. Hippolytus was
wrongfully killed but brought back to life at Diana's wishes, who then
hid him at her shrine "to live there, unknown and solitary, under the
name of Virbius." Also present was Egeria, wife of the legendary
Roman king Numa, a water nymph whose role was likely to aid in
healing the sick and in easing childbirth. She may also have helped
watch over Virbius for Diana. Frazer points out such stories "clearly
belong to that large class of myths which are made up to explain the
origin of a religious rituation [sic]," and they have no real historical
foundation.
2. Artemis and Hippolytus
Frazer follows up on the stories of Orestes and of Hippolytus, lover
of Artemis (the Greek name for Diana). Frazer theorizes about how
these men are related to Virbius and the King of the Wood. He
believes the murder of the priest at Nemi correlates to the murder
committed by Orestes, and the statue of the Tauric Diana "could
only be appeased with human blood." As for Hippolytus, Frazer
proposes he is more or less a prop to Artemis in her role as a fertility
goddess, for "she who fertilizes nature must herself be fertile," and
therefore needs a mate. Hippolytus may have been a human
companion or purely a mythological construct; either way, he
exemplifies the archetype of "fair but mortal youths who paid with
their lives for the brief rapture of the love of an immortal goddess."
The "spilled blood" of such lovers was said to make flowers spring to
life, their "youth and beauty" as "fleeting as the summer flowers."
Frazer hints these fables echo "a deeper philosophy of the relation
of the life of man to the life of nature—a sad philosophy which gave
birth to a tragic practice."

3. Recapitulation
Frazer restates the relationships between the aforementioned
mythical figures. Hippolytus, consort of Artemis, is identified with
Virbius, consort of Diana. Frazer mentions other mythical pairs with
similar stories: Adonis, paired with the goddess Venus; and Attis,
paired with Cybele. Frazer then proposes Virbius was the
"predecessor or archetype of the line of priests who served Diana
under the title of the Kings of the Wood." Thus, the mortal priest of
Nemi "had for his queen the woodland Diana herself," who was
personified by a sacred tree in the grove.
Chapter 2: Priestly Kings
Frazer notes, "The union of a royal title with priestly duties was
common in ancient Italy and Greece," which could explain why the
priest of Nemi was called King of the Wood. The author lists similar
figures, such as "the Sacrificial King or King of the Sacred Rites,"
whose counterpart was the "Queen of the Sacred Rites." He
theorizes such priests rose to prominence after the Roman
monarchy was abolished, because the priests could "offer the
sacrifices which before had been offered by the kings." Similarly,
some Greek kings had been viewed as the descendants of the god,
and served as his priests. Frazer offers further examples of the
crossover between kings and priests, from Asia Minor to
Madagascar to Central America, where rulers "wielded at once
temporal and spiritual authority, like the popes of medieval Rome."
Such kings were often thought of as gods, Frazer states, endowed
with the power to give blessings, make the rain fall, and produce
abundant crops for those who worshipped them. "This is one way in
which the idea of a man-god is reached," Frazer writes. He further
theorizes early people may have viewed themselves as godlike, with
magical powers to influence the weather and other natural
phenomena.

Analysis
James George Frazer uses the Preface to detail his aim and
methods and explain how the publication process evolved as the
project continued. He humbly allows his research may be disproved
in the future, and he welcomes new ideas and theories. This sets an
impartial tone for the book, one well in line with the spirit of scientific
inquiry; facts trump feelings in science, and Frazer aims to be
factual and scientific in his writing. In this, he shows his academic
roots. However, his writing style also shows he is reaching beyond
scholars in academia; he aspires "to bring the work within the range
of a wider circle of readers." While the text can sometimes get
bogged down in example after example after example (scientific
thoroughness!), he intersperses these with beautifully written prose;
these draw the reader in and are a pleasure to read. Furthermore,
he uses a variety of metaphors, similes, and plain-spoken
summations to make his points clear for the reader.
Chapter 1 sets the stage for the main premise of the work, laying out
the basic known facts of the priest of Nemi. Frazer's language can
be titillating at times, such as when he describes this man as "a
priest and murderer"—a pairing bound to pique the reader's
curiosity. At times Frazer oversteps the bounds of science and veers
into pure speculation. For example, he says because the priesthood
of Nemi is the only one of its kind in classical antiquity, "to find an
explanation we must go farther afield." Plainly speaking, he goes
outside the bounds of the target culture—ancient Italy—to find
evidence for his theory. And while his theory and the evidence he
presents to support it may sound compelling, the so-called evidence
may not be valid at all, because it often comes from disparate
cultures and not from Italy. Frazer also says, "The stories told to
account for Diana's worship at Nemi are unhistorical" and "clearly
belong to a large class of myths" that explain religious rituals. While
these stories seem unreal, Frazer has not offered concrete proof
they are unhistorical. Some of the mythological figures named may
be based in history; the truth of the matter lies buried in antiquity.
Frazer has also been criticized at times for seeking evidence to fit
his theories—no matter how farfetched the connection may be—
rather than examining the facts first and then proposing theories.
Section 2 of Chapter 1 first makes use of the word "savage," a word
today's readers will find objectionable. Frazer lived in a different
time, and the common beliefs or language of his time may seem
antiquated or even offensive today. Like the ancient cultures he
writes about, Frazer is a product of his own age and its influences.

Chapter 3: Sympathetic Magic

Chapter 3 introduces the basic concepts of sympathetic magic, and
includes four sections.
1. The Principles of Magic
James George Frazer introduces the concept of sympathetic magic,
which assumes "things act on each other at a distance through a
secret sympathy." This, he terms the "law of sympathy."
Sympathetic magic is further broken down into two types:
homoeopathic magic and contagious magic. Homoeopathic magic
(or imitative magic) operates by the "law of similarity," the idea a
magician "can produce any effect he desires merely by imitating it."
In contagious magic, which operates by the "law of contact," the
magician "infers that whatever he does to a material object will
equally affect the person with whom the object was once in contact."
Frazer also identifies and differentiates theoretical magic and
practical magic. Theoretical magic concerns "the rules which
determine the sequence of events throughout the world"—in other
words, universal rules or natural laws apply to both humans and
inanimate nature. Practical magic, by contrast, concerns "the
precepts which human beings observe to compass their ends," or
the actions a magician takes to achieve his goal.

Frazer criticizes all this magic as "a spurious system," "a false
science"; he even calls it "the bastard art." In his opinion, "the
primitive magician" does not have the capacity to understand
science or the concrete laws of nature; he relies on magic to combat
a world he cannot understand. Frazer points out the lack of scientific
logic in magic, stating, "Homoeopathic magic commits the mistake of
assuming that things which resemble each other are the same:
contagious magic commits the mistake of assuming that things
which have once been in contact with each other are always in
contact."
2. Homoeopathic or Imitative Magic
The author lists numerous examples of homoeopathic magic in
cultures worldwide. One common example Frazer presents is the
idea that one can "injure or destroy an enemy by injuring or
destroying an image of him." Frazer also discusses the use of
puppets, which a magician might burn or bury to maim or kill his
enemy. He then lists several "beneficent" uses for homoeopathic
magic, such as making a doll in hopes of becoming pregnant and
ceremonies meant to "heal or prevent sickness." For example, some
ancient peoples believed a bird, the stone-curlew, could take away
people's jaundice simply by looking at them. "The virtue of the bird,"
write Frazer, "lay ... in its large golden eye, which naturally drew out
the yellow jaundice." Homoeopathic magic can also be performed
"on the person of the doctor" instead of on the patient, "who is thus
relieved of all trouble and inconvenience." Frazer also notes many
cultures used homoeopathic magic in fishing and hunting, such as a
hunter seeking to draw white cockatoos near "by holding an effigy of
the bird and mimicking its harsh cry."

Frazer also notes that negative magic—"Do not do this, lest so and
so should happen"—contrasts with positive magic—"Do this in order
so that so and so may happen." Taboos are a negative form of
homoeopathic magic—people may refrain from doing certain acts so
they do not attract bad luck or unwanted troubles. Both negative and
positive magic fall under the umbrella of practical magic, according
to Frazer, because both are attempts by the magician to achieve
specific goals. Furthermore, such magic was believed to act at a
great distance. For example, the wife of a hunter might wear a
sword "day and night" while her husband was away, "in order that he
may always be thinking of his weapons."

3. Contagious Magic
Contagious magic particularly concerns "the magical sympathy
which is supposed to exist between a man and any severed portion
of his person," such as teeth, hair, or nail clippings. Such personal
effects could be used by a magician or even a mythical being to
wreak havoc on the person from whom they were acquired.
Similarly, the umbilical cord and placenta were seen as powerful
organs that retained a connection with the infant after birth; thus,
they were guarded or treated with particular care to keep the infant
from harm or to encourage good fortune. Contagious magic isn't
limited to body parts, either. Clothing, personal possessions, or even
footprints could be used by a magician to harm or cast a spell on
their original owner.

4. The Magician's Progress

Frazer notes most of the preceding examples were forms of private
magic, practiced by the magician for his own benefit. He then
defines public magic, which is performed "for the benefit of the
whole community." Over time, such public magicians could gain a
great deal of authority or power, and could even become a king or
chief. Frazer maintained such people must be "conscious deceivers"
who used their perceived powers "to dupe their weaker brother and
to play on his superstition for their own advantage." He further
concludes, "Supreme power tends to fall into the hands of men of
the keenest intelligence and the most unscrupulous character,"
though he acknowledges some magicians may use their so-called
powers in a genuine wish to serve their people. Frazer sees this
change from private magic (used by all) to public magic (performed
by only a few) as the initial shift from democracy to monarchy.
Frazer is not against such a system, and indeed suggests "one man
of supreme power" may carry out grand changes "in a single lifetime
which previously many generations" were not able to do. He offers
as examples ancient empires such as Rome and Egypt, which rose
to prominence under the guidance of strong leaders "in the double
character of a king and a god."

Analysis
It is critically important for the reader to understand sympathetic
magic's concepts, and James George Frazer's explanation of the
types of magic in Section 1 is wonderfully lucid. His opinion of magic
isn't very flattering, though, as the reader discovers when he calls it
"the bastard art" and various other uncomplimentary names. While
such language may be amusing or sensationalistic, it is not very
scientific, because it shows the author's personal bias.
In Section 4 Frazer acknowledges some good has emerged from the
practice of magic: namely, public magicians paved the way for
"despotic and theocratic governments." He argues, "This early
epoch despotism is the best friend of humanity and, paradoxical as it
may sound, of liberty." He believes such supreme leaders helped
forward the cause of civilization, "to emancipate humankind from the
thraldom [sic] of tradition and to elevate them into a larger, freer life."
This seems like a personal opinion rather than an objective,
provable fact. Frazer's bias toward contemporary society as superior
to early society is clear.

Summary

Chapter 4: Magic and Religion

James George Frazer begins by comparing magic to science,
holding that both are based on a faith in the "uniformity of nature"
and the laws of cause and effect. For the magician, "the proper
ceremony, accompanied by the appropriate spell, will inevitably be
attended by the desired results" in the same way a scientist will
obtain consistent results from a controlled experiment. Magic's "fatal
flaw," he writes, is that it is based on mistaken lines of thought: "the
association of ideas by similarity [homoeopathic magic] and ... by
contiguity in space or time [contagious magic]." Therefore, "all magic
is necessarily false and barren," because if it truly worked, "it would
no longer be magic but science."

Frazer then compares magic to religion, which he defines as having

"two elements, a theoretical and a practical, namely, a belief in
powers higher than man and an attempt to propitiate or please
them." Religion differs from both magic and science, he writes,
because it does not conform to the idea of fixed laws of nature.
Frazer asks, "Are the forces which govern the world conscious and
personal, or unconscious and impersonal?" If—as religion supposes
—a higher power can change the course of events, this assumes
"the course of nature is to some extent elastic or variable." If one
prays to a god, one must believe the god can supersede the laws of
nature. In Frazer's opinion, this sets up a "radical conflict" between
magic and religion, which explains why magicians have so often
been despised by priests. A priest cannot abide the magician's claim
of godlike powers, his denial of a power higher than himself, while
the priest humbles himself before such a higher power. But as
Frazer notes, for much of history the offices of magician and priest
were combined—for example, in the pharaohs of Egypt who were
considered both magicians and living gods. Frazer proposes,
"Ancient magic was the very foundation of religion," and an "Age of
Magic" gradually gave way to an "Age of Religion" in much of
civilization. Over time, he maintains, early humans must have used
logic to see that magical acts were not truly connected with their
supposed results; the rain fell whether he had held a rain ceremony
or not. Frazer believes such magicians must have gradually turned
to beliefs of a higher power outside themselves, and thus began
religion.

Chapter 5: The Magical Control of the Weather

In Chapter 5 Frazer discusses the public magician and the magical
control of the weather in four sections.

1. The Public Magician

There are two types of "man-gods." The first are divine beings that
incarnate in human bodies. The second are human magicians who
have risen to a high level of personal power, who are deeply attuned
to and affected by the natural world around them. He then reiterates
the concept of the private magician who acts for himself, and the
public magician who acts for the good of the community. Frazer
views the emergence of the public magician as a great advance in
primitive society, as it is, in its own way a beginning of the division of
labor. Magical acts once performed by individuals, such as the
hunter using magic to procure food, were taken over by magicians
dedicated to performing these acts for the entire community. It was a
public magician's job to observe the world around him acutely,
including "the properties of drugs and minerals, the causes of rain
and drought, of thunder and lightning, the changes of the seasons,
the phases of the moon," and so on. Frazer asserts that such public
magicians were usually highly motivated to perform their duties well,
as "a single mistake detected might cost them their life." Frazer calls
such public magicians "the direct predecessors" of modern
physicians, surgeons, and other investigative scientists, despite their
"crude theories."

2. The Magical Control of Rain

Public magicians used various techniques to make the rain fall or
stop falling. This was viewed as one of the most important acts a
magician could perform for the tribe. Much of the magic performed
was homoeopathic in nature. A magician could cause rain to fall by
"sprinkling water or mimicking clouds," or to stop the rain using fire
"for the sake of drying up the too abundant moisture." Frazer points
out when such magic failed to produce results, magicians weren't
above using "threats and curses or even downright physical force to
extort the waters from heaven." For example, Japanese villagers
might throw the image of their "guardian divinity" into the fields to
"see how you [the deity] will feel after a few days' scorching in this
broiling sun."
3. The Magical Control of the Sun
During solar eclipses some tribes would shoot fiery arrows into the
air, "hoping thus to rekindle his expiring light." In many cultures
rituals or offerings were meant to ensure the continued rising of the
sun. Some were meant to propitiate a solar deity—a religious act—
while others aimed to physically renew the sun's "energies of heat,
light, and motion"—a magical act. In Mexico, people gave extreme
offerings: human sacrifices "to feed the solar fire."

4. The Magical Control of the Wind

Magicians sought to influence air's movement in various ways.
"Finnish wizards used to sell wind to storm-stayed mariners" using
knot magic, writes Frazer. "The wind was enclosed in three knots,"
and as the mariner untied each knot, the force of wind would
increase. Other cultures viewed strong wind as "an evil being who
may be intimidated, driven away, or killed." Villagers might scream
and wave weapons or blazing torches in the air to chase away such
demons. Frazer gives myriad examples from various cultures for
each of these magical controls of the weather.

Analysis
James George Frazer's logical brain is at work again in Chapter 4
when he suggests the performance of sympathetic magic is based
on "mistaken lines of thought." His logic certainly seems solid, but
he doesn't offer proof of his assertion. It is only a theory, and in fact,
a theory modern science is overturning. Quantum physics, which is
used to describe and predict how physical systems work, has
offered convincing proof particles (such as photons) affect one
another, even when separated by great distances. Through this
"quantum entanglement," when one photon is altered, the connected
—or "entangled"—photon is similarly altered. This theory seems to
parallel the Chapter 1 theory about sympathetic magic, in which
Frazer says, "Things act on each other at a distance through a
secret sympathy." The reader may well wonder what Frazer would
think of today's scientific theories and how they might change his
outlook on the theories he has presented. He says if magic truly
worked, "it would no longer be magic but science"; this seems to be
coming true before the modern world's eyes. Perhaps magic is a
science after all.
Frazer's mention of the "radical conflict" between magic and religion
certainly has historical precedent, from the suppression of pagan
religions (many of which had magical elements) in the early days of
Christianity to the Salem witch trials spurred on by Puritan laws.
Interestingly, the publication of The Golden Bough has been credited
as contributing to the growth of the modern neo-paganism due to the
book's wealth of information on early pagan practices. This is rather
ironic, given Frazer's strong bias toward science over religion and
magic.
Frazer's comparison in Chapter 5 of public magicians to modern
scientists is particularly intriguing. Indeed, his description of a public
magician's duties reads remarkably like a list of scientific inquiries: to
observe "the properties of drugs and minerals, the causes of rain
and drought, of thunder and lightning, the changes of the seasons,
the phases of the moon." He also emphasizes the public magician's
most important act of making rain. This emphasis on water as
crucial to life was a primary concern then as it is now—
demonstrated, for example, in the modern "Water is Life" movement
and the United Nations' 2010 declaration that access to clean water
is a basic human right.

Summary

Chapter 6: Magicians as Kings

James George Frazer notes that very successful public magicians
"appear to have often developed into chiefs and kings." This idea is
especially evident in Africa, where "evidence for the evolution of the
chief out of the magician, and especially out of the rainmaker, is
comparatively plentiful." Medicine men and rainmakers often rose to
the office of chief, though the accompanying power, prestige, and
wealth such a magician gained were not without a price. Such a
chief often "comes to a violent end," Frazer writes, "for in time of
drought the angry people assemble and kill him, believing that it is
he who prevents the rain from falling." Eventually—and
unsurprisingly—"no one would be king, and the monarchy came to
an end." Other kingly virtues described by Frazer, beyond magical
control of the weather, included the ability to make crops flourish
and to heal the sick by touch. Frazer concludes the chapter by again
noting that some kings came to be viewed as divine during their
lifetime, "through the temporary or permanent possession of their
whole nature by a great and powerful spirit."

Chapter 7: Incarnate Human Gods

Over time, Frazer writes, early people lost faith in their ability to do
magic, and their "sense of equality with the gods" waned. People
looked more and more to higher beings to solve their dilemmas.
Sacrifice and prayer took the place of private magic for those who
were "pious and enlightened," while the "superstitious and ignorant"
continued to practice magic, which came to be viewed as a "black
art." Before this happened, though, the idea of a man-god, "a human
being endowed with divine or supernatural powers," was still
prevalent. Early peoples believed such a man-god had the same
supernatural powers they themselves held, only to a higher degree.
Moreover, they viewed actual gods—deities—as "merely invisible
magicians," working like human magicians but behind the scenes of
nature. Frazer cautions the reader against "importing into the
savage conception of deity those very abstract and complex ideas
which we attach to the term," saying the "savage" and the "civilized
man" have very different understandings of the concept of god.
Nonetheless, Frazer says this early conception of deity was
probably "the germ out of which the civilized peoples have gradually
evolved their own high conceptions of deity."

Frazer then says there were two types of incarnate gods. The first is
a temporary "possession" of a human, manifesting itself in
"supernatural knowledge" such as divination and prophecy,
sometimes brought on by ingesting fresh blood (human or animal) or
sacred plants. The second type of man-god is a more permanent
inhabitation of the human body by the divine spirit, manifesting itself
in "supernatural power" such as miracles. Frazer lists several
examples of such primitive man-gods from various cultures; they
may be either kings or people of "the humblest rank." He includes
(among his examples) Christianity, which "has not uniformly
escaped the taint of these unhappy delusions," because even some
Christians of Frazer's time "have believed that Christ, nay God
himself, is incarnate in every fully initiated Christian." Frazer also
points out, "Sometimes, at the death of the human incarnation, the
divine spirit transmigrates into another man," and gives as an
example the Grand Lamas of Buddhism.

Chapter 8: Departmental Kings of Nature

In this chapter Frazer describes a different type of man-god who has
provenance over specific areas of nature, rather than all of nature in
general. Among these, he lists the King of the Wood at Nemi, the
Kings of Rain of the Upper Nile, and the King of the Fire and the
King of the Water of Cambodia. Many of these figures performed
their magic at risk of their own life, for if they failed, they might be
put to death most violently. Many of these kings were "not allowed to
die a natural death," as the people believed if a king died, his power
went with him. Thus, if such a king fell seriously ill, a council of
elders might decide to "stab him to death" if his recovery seemed
unlikely.

Analysis
Chapter 7 offers insight into James George Frazer's opinion on early
people compared to modern, "civilized" people. The language he
uses to describe early cultures and their beliefs reveals his bias
against them. Frazer's speech is peppered with words that carry
negative connotations today, such as "savage" and "primitive," as
well as judgmental comments on various tribes' "superstitious and
ignorant" customs. While this language may have been intended as
merely descriptive, it can seem condescending to today's reader.
Frazer occasionally makes statements excusing the ignorance of
early humans; for example, he suggests they simply didn't have the
cognitive powers of modern people. This is evident in his discussion
of early humans' concept of the word "deity," which falls short of the
"high conceptions of deity" modern humans hold. He notes that
primitive concepts of deity laid the foundation for deeper
understanding by later societies, but this seems faint praise, indeed
—like a patronizing pat on the head.
Frazer's comments on Christianity in Chapter 7 are also very
revealing. His evaluation of certain Christian beliefs as "unhappy
delusions" seems to show a marked disregard for Christianity. To be
fair, Frazer seems to discount all religions equally, viewing religion in
general as a superstitious practice inferior to the modern—and in
Frazer's opinion, superior—practice of science. This can hardly be
surprising, given Frazer's devotion to anthropology, the science of
studying human beings. From such a perspective, Frazer must have
viewed human behavior in an extremely logical manner, and
practices such as magic and religion, which are not necessarily
based on logic, would not have had much validity to him.

Summary

Chapter 9: The Worship of Trees

Chapter 9 commences the discussion of the worship of trees, and
has two sections.

1. Tree-spirits
James George Frazer discusses humans' veneration of trees,
particularly in Europe, which was covered with massive ancient
forests. To the Germans, "the oldest sanctuaries were natural
woods," and similar outdoor worship was common to the Celtic
druids, Lithuanians, Greeks, Italians, and many other cultures.
Sacred groves were guarded zealously, and punishment for harming
such trees could be extreme and gruesome. Some believed harming
these trees would bring instant death or deformity to the culprit. To
early humans "the world in general is animate," including trees and
plants, which people believed had souls just like themselves. Some
believed the trees suffered pain when they were cut down, so they
would ask the tree's pardon or make offerings to appease the spirit
of the tree. People might also injure a tree on purpose, striking
blows with an ax and threatening to cut the tree down completely if it
failed to produce fruit. Frazer also notes some cultures recognized
trees' gender and knew how to fertilize them artificially by "shaking
the pollen of the male tree over the flowers of the female." Other
people believed the spirits of the trees were "the souls of the dead,"
and such trees were treated with special reverence. In some cases
a tree-spirit was considered as bound to the tree, and if the tree
died, the spirit died; in other cases, the tree was merely a host for
the spirit, which "can quit it and return to it at pleasure."
2. Beneficent Powers of Tree-Spirits
Frazer opens this section by noting that "animism is passing into
polytheism" with the belief a tree-spirit is independent of its host
tree. The tree itself is just a tree—inanimate—and the spirit residing
within is a "supernatural being," more of a "forest god" than the spirit
of any single tree. Early peoples tended to anthropomorphize such
spirits, imagining them in human form, often with attributes such as
tree branches or other symbols of nature. These tree-spirits were
believed to have the power to control the weather, make crops grow
and herds of animals multiply, and to enable women to conceive
children, among others. Frazer points out, "The very same powers
are attributed to tree-gods conceived as anthropomorphic beings or
as actually incarnate in living men."

Chapter 10: Relics of Tree Worship in Modern Europe

Frazer proposes that modern European customs observed on May
Day, Midsummer Day (summer solstice), Easter, Whitsuntide, St.
Bride's Day, or St. George's Day probably arose from the early
worship of trees. The purpose of these celebrations in general was
to welcome the return of vegetation and the arrival of spring or
summer. Such rituals followed a similar pattern from culture to
culture: people would cut down a tree from the woods and erect it in
the village for a community celebration or feast. Alternately, people
might adorn their homes with branches, bushes, or flowers, or a cut
tree to invite "the blessings which the tree-spirit has in its power to
bestow." Children or youths might go from home to home, singing
songs of blessing and receiving gifts of food or money in exchange.
In some lands, people decorated maypoles with leaves, flowers,
ribbons, or other adornments and danced around them. The custom
of lighting bonfires on the hills was also common, and people would
dance around the fire or even jump over it.

Frazer also notes that in some cultures people dressed a tree

branch in clothing, creating a personification of the tree-spirit. At the
end of the festivities they flung the branch into a stream, a gesture
meant to be "most probably a rain charm," according to the author.
In many of these traditions Frazer says, "The tree-spirit is
represented simultaneously in vegetable form and in human form,"
and may be a doll, puppet, or living person. Some of the human
representations of vegetation were called the Lady of May, Little
May Rose, Father May, Green George, the Queen of May, Little
Leaf Man, Jack-in-the-Green, the Grass King, and so on. They were
often clothed from head to toe in leaves, branches, flowers, or
wickerwork, and almost invariably ended their ceremonial
procession about town by being dunked in a nearby stream or
trough, again as a rain charm. Such a figure was viewed "as an
actual representative of the spirit of vegetation"; it would bless those
who honored it.

Chapter 11: The Influence of the Sexes on Vegetation

Frazer theorizes such spring and summer festivals in Europe
represented a marriage of the male and female powers of vegetation
"in the persons of a King and Queen of May" and so on. The
purpose of these ceremonies was, by homoeopathic magic, to
encourage the growth of trees and plants. Some cultures took such
celebrations a step further with "the real union of the human sexes,"
or sexual intercourse as a means of further ensuring the earth's
fertility. In lieu of actual intercourse, sometimes young men and
women, or even priests, would lie down in the fields and roll over
them to quicken the growth of the crops.

Conversely, other cultures abstained from sexual intercourse during

the time of sowing and sometimes until harvest, believing
abstinence would best encourage the crops to grow. People
believed this delay of gratification transferred their sexual vigor into
the newly growing plants. Frazer judges this as an act of "self-
preservation" rather than an act of moral virtue because the crops
produced the food needed for survival. "In short," he says, "the
savage is willing to restrain his sexual propensity for the sake of
food." However, the author also praises this practice, noting that "the
power of sacrificing the present to the future" advances the overall
character of the human race, leading humankind to greater heights.

Analysis
The focus of Chapter 9, the evolution of tree-spirits into independent
deities, shows the gradual evolution of human thought concerning
magic and religion. As James George Frazer says, "Animism is
passing into polytheism," the belief in multiple gods. Animism, the
belief spirits reside in nonliving objects, particularly objects in nature
and in natural phenomena (such as wind) is an important concept in
the chapter and for religious study in general. Frazer notes early
humans gave these tree-spirits human characteristics. This practice
is called anthropomorphism, and remains evident today in mythical
figures such as Mother Nature and in the many films and stories that
feature talking animals or objects.
While much of the book focuses on exotic locales or cultures around
the world, Frazer's discussion of modern European customs in
Chapter 10 takes a critical look at his own culture, noting that
remnants of ancient magic and religion are still evident—a fact many
of his readers (and even readers today) may not have realized. His
explanation of May Day and other spring and summer festival
traditions lends a sense of history and a greater depth of
understanding to modern culture. One such tradition, the lighting of
bonfires, is explored more thoroughly in Chapters 62 through 64.

Chapter 11 includes a hint of Frazer's bias regarding the intellectual

and moral superiority of modern humans to early humans. Frazer
describes the seasonal abstinence of early peoples as an act of
"self-preservation" rather than a choice based on morality. He says
the idea that abstaining from intercourse can encourage crop is a
"fallacy ... plain enough to us." He acknowledges such a practice
could be useful in "bracing and strengthening the breed," making
early humans seem almost like livestock. Frazer concludes that
renouncing personal pleasure for the betterment of humankind is the
"height of heroism"; this is purely opinion, an interjection of the
author's personal beliefs into what is meant to be a scientific and
factual treatise.

Summary

Chapter 12: The Sacred Marriage

Chapter 12 has two sections presenting the "sacred marriage" of
male and female deities as representations of vegetation.

1. Diana as a Goddess of Fertility

James George Frazer relates the drama of the sacred marriage, a
custom observed by many cultures in Europe in which the god and
goddess unite in marriage to bring abundant vegetation to the world.
Frazer assumes such rites originated long ago, "when the
forefathers of the civilized nations of Europe were still barbarians"
and had only "a very crude conception of natural law." The custom
survived into modern times "in the shape of pastoral plays and
popular merry-makings," according to Frazer. However, such
"shows and pageants" were no longer religious or magical in nature
in the modern age, nor were the actors consciously portraying the
gods and goddesses. Frazer then connects the sacred marriage to
the story of the King of the Wood at Nemi and the goddess Diana.
He asks whether these two figures might not be the predecessors of
the modern King and Queen of May or the Whitsuntide Bridegroom
and Bride, as observed by various European cultures. "Direct
evidence that it was so there is none," he admits, but in his belief,
the character of Diana as a goddess fits the role well. Not only was
she a tree goddess, but over time she came to personify all of
nature, "both animal and vegetable," wild and domestic. Moreover,
she was believed by some to be the harvest moon, a goddess
ensuring fertility both to the land and to humans. Frazer again says
Diana, as a goddess of fertility, "must herself be fertile," thus
necessitating a partner, Virbius—the original King of the Wood.
Their union was meant to make the earth fertile, the celebration of
which Frazer assumes occurred on an annual basis.
2. The Marriage of Gods
This section describes many ancient rituals of the sacred marriage.
In Babylon and Egypt, a woman slept in the temple of the god and
became his consort, forbidden to lie with other men. In Egypt, this
was often the queen herself, as her husband was considered the
god Ammon incarnate. In Athens, Dionysus, the god of the vine,
married the queen each year, "and it appears that the
consummation of the divine union ... was enacted at the ceremony,"
Frazer states. The god may have been represented by an image or
played by a man; it is unclear. At Eleusis, the sky-god Zeus wed the
corn-goddess Demeter, a union enacted symbolically rather than
bodily by a priest and a priestess. This union of deities brought forth
a child—the corn—a clear symbol of vegetative fertility. Frazer
describes many other instances of ancient sacred marriages,
including several in which virgin girls become the honored consorts
of the god for a period. Other stories tell of young girls whose lives
were sacrificed periodically to appease the demands of a god and
bring prosperity to the land.

Chapter 13: The Kings of Rome and Alba

Chapter 13 discusses the ancient kings of Rome and Alba in two
sections.

1. Numa and Egeria

Frazer discusses the water-nymph Egeria, helper of Diana in
matters of childbirth. Because Egeria is connected to the spring
water at Nemi, Frazer concludes these waters must have had "the
power of facilitating conception as well as delivery." He postulates
Egeria might be "only another form of the great nature-goddess
Diana herself." He then notes that the waters of many springs or
wells were used by priestesses to make prophecies. This would
explain Egeria's great wisdom, which she imparted to her husband,
Numa, a Roman king. From Egeria's association with water, Frazer
also concludes that her union with Numa may have been a form of
sacred marriage meant to bring not only fruitful vegetation but also
abundant rain. In short, the author surmises Egeria and Numa may
have embodied Diana and her consort, the King of the Wood.

2. The King as Jupiter

According to Frazer the Roman king likely impersonated Jupiter,
"the god of the sky, the thunder, and the oak," in ceremony. The
king would wear or carry the sacred attributes of Jupiter, including
purple and gold robes, a scepter with an eagle atop it, and a crown
of oak leaves. Frazer notes that before Rome was founded by
people from Alba Longa, the kings of Alba probably observed the
same tradition of honoring Latian Jupiter—the deified form of their
ancestor Latinus. Such kings, in the guise of Jupiter, may also have
staged fake demonstrations of lightning and thunder to impress the
people, and perhaps also as a rain charm. Frazer then suggests that
each year the Romans celebrated the sacred marriage of Jupiter
and Juno, the King and Queen of the deities, through their
representatives on earth, the human king and queen. Numa and
Egeria seem to fit this bill, in Frazer's opinion.

Chapter 14: Succession to the Kingdom in Ancient

Latium
Next Frazer considers the kings of Ancient Latium, where Alba was
located. He asks what the rule of succession was among these
people, because there were several kings among the various tribes.
The lines of succession were complicated, but Frazer concludes,
"The right to kingship was transmitted in the female line, and was
actually exercised by foreigners who married the royal princesses."
Frazer rationalizes this line of succession, which discounts paternity
and instead focuses on the maternal line, to downplay those
occasions when a royal female "has been gotten with child by a man
unknown." This happened especially during the Saturnalian
celebrations, when "a special relaxation of moral rules" gave license
to more freedom of sexual expression. Frazer notes these
celebrations often happened in summer and were a time of great
revelry, "a festival of lovers and of fire." Latin kings may have been
conceived during such events.

Frazer further states the father's rank did not matter as long as he
was "physically and mentally fit" and thus able to impregnate the
royal female. He could be "of humble birth" or even a foreigner or a
slave. Such a custom may have given rise to fairy tales in which "an
adventurer, coming to a strange land, wins the hand of the king's
daughter and with her the half or whole of the kingdom." Frazer
further notes sometimes the princess was married to the winner of a
race or other contest, possibly even the games at Olympia—the
Olympics. Such races or contests took place well beyond Latium, in
locations such as Northeast Asia and the Germanic and Norse
regions. Frazer suggests such races were "designed to test the
fitness of a candidate for matrimony" and the tradition continued in
Rome under the name of "the Flight of the King." Each year, Frazer
proposes, the current king would run against a crowd of competitors.
If he won, he continued as king for another year; if he lost, he was
replaced by the winner (or even slain). This king would then play the
role of the god in the sacred marriage to the goddess, "designed to
ensure the fertility of the earth by homoeopathic magic." Frazer also
suggests such a tradition might explain the plethora of stories of
ancient Roman kings who came to violent ends.

Analysis
In Chapter 12 James George Frazer's attempt to connect the
modern custom of the King and Queen of May to the King of the
Wood and Diana could be justifiably called a stretch of the
imagination. The customs in question are both distant in time (from
ancient Rome to modern day) and in distance (many of the May Day
customs he has described take place hundreds of miles away from
Italy). Frazer himself says there is no direct evidence to prove the
theory; he cannot trace the path of the ancient Roman custom
across national borders and time into today. Here, Frazer may be
attempting to find evidence to suit his purpose rather than sticking
strictly to the facts. The same holds true for Chapters 13 and 14.
Frazer offers a plethora of interesting information in comparing three
important pairs: Numa and the King of the Wood, Egeria and Diana,
and Rome and Alba (or Ancient Latium). He sees parallels in all
these pairs, but parallels and interesting tidbits don't necessarily
prove the connections.

Summary

Chapter 15: The Worship of the Oak

James George Frazer posits the chief deity for most of the Aryan
people of Europe was "a god of the oak, the thunder, and the rain."
For the Greeks, this was Zeus. A famous sanctuary to Zeus was
located at Dodona, where thunderstorms were frequent, and on
Mount Lycaeus priests of Zeus called for rain by dipping oak
branches into a sacred spring. Indeed, Zeus was often honored "on
the mountains where the clouds gather and the oaks grow."
Lightning was also Zeus's domain, and he was said to travel "down
in the flash from heaven." Frazer speculates Greek kings donned
the guise of Zeus "just as the Italian kings personified Jupiter." The
Celts and druids of Gaul also worshipped a similar god, as did the
Germans, Slavs, and Lithuanians. The chief deity for each of these
cultures was a god of the oak and the thunder, and often one that
brought rain and fertility to the soil.

Chapter 16: Dianus and Diana

Now Frazer attempts to synthesize the information gathered thus far
to illuminate the mystery of the priest of Nemi. He notes again early
humans' belief in their own superhuman or divine powers;
eventually, they came to see "the fallacy of this belief." Humans then
began to believe that invisible beings controlled the world, and
religion began to replace magic. These beings, however, were not
seen as above humans, and in fact, people believed humans could
become equally powerful and divine: incarnate human deities. Like
the magicians who came before, such incarnate deities were
expected to ensure the safety, health, and fertility of the people and
the earth. They served both as king and gods, uniting civil and
religious aims. Frazer again says the King of the Wood at Nemi
likely fulfilled these same roles originally, especially by uniting in
sacred marriage with the goddess Diana, Queen of the Wood, to
promote fertility.
But which god did this King of the Wood represent? While the name
of Virbius is known, it is also obscure; for proof, Frazer points
instead to the continually burning sacred Vestal fire, fed by oak
wood. This leads Frazer to conclude the deity in question was
Jupiter, who "mated with the oak-goddess Diana." He then explains
how Jupiter and Diana may have borne a variety of names: Jupiter
and Juno, Dianus and Diana, Janus and Jana, and even the Greek
Zeus and Dione. The author views these deities as "merely
duplicates of each other," worshipped by different tribes in their own
fashions. Frazer further disputes the idea Janus was merely "the
god of doors," as some contemporary scholars believed, instead
suggesting double-headed Janus was "the great god," a "divine
watchman" guarding the comings and goings of homes and towns.
From all this, Frazer concludes the priest of Nemi, whatever his
name (Virbius, Jupiter, Dianus, or Janus) was essentially the same
deity of the sky, thunder, and oak. As oak-god, he mated with the
oak-goddess—whether under the name of Diana or Egeria—to
ensure earth's fertility.

Analysis
Chapter 15 opens with more of James George Frazer's beautiful and
detailed descriptions of places and events; these passages draw the
reader in, recreating the sights, sounds, and sensory delights of the
distant past in an immediate and compelling way. This is a strength
of Frazer's writing and one of the reasons The Golden Bough became
so popular in its time and afterward. Frazer's analysis of the
similarities of Zeus, Jupiter, and the many other gods of the oak and
thunder seems a great deal more convincing than some of his
previous correlations.
The evolution of human thought continues in Chapter 16, as Frazer
traces the shifting tides of beliefs. As private magic fell out of use,
two separate beliefs began to emerge: a belief in "invisible beings"
controlling the earth and a belief in incarnate human deities. It is
likely these belief systems overlapped in time, with some cultures
favoring one belief over the other, but the book doesn't indicate a
clear timeline. This lack of linear structure can be confusing for the
reader and is further complicated by the dizzying array of deities'
names.

Summary

Chapter 17: The Burden of Royalty

Chapter 17 discusses the difficulties faced by royalty, particularly
kings, in two sections.
1. Royal and Priestly Taboos
Many early kings or priests were seen as incarnate deities closely
tied to nature and the fate of the world; therefore, any inadvertent
actions they took could "seriously disturb some part of nature."
People believed if the king came to harm, the world itself might end.
Unsurprisingly, such kings were subject to incredible restrictions and
rules that governed their behavior. For example, the Mikado
monarchs of Japan had to "take an uncommon care" of themselves
and even perform seemingly "ridiculous or impertinent" acts. Their
feet could not touch the ground, so they were carried everywhere.
The sun could not shine on their head, nor could they cut their hair,
beard, or nails. Many further examples are given: a priest who was
forced to spend his life on top of a mountain, a king who lived
shackled inside a hut so he might never accidentally lay eyes upon
the sea, an emperor who was not permitted to eat warm food, and
so on. An Egyptian king received strict rules regarding when he
could walk, bathe, or even sleep with his wife. Such rulers could
become "lost in the ocean of rites and taboos"; they became "a
burden and sorrow to him." If he failed at his duties, the
consequences could be dire: "Worshipped as a god one day, he is
killed as a criminal the next."

2. Divorce of the Spiritual from the Temporal Power

James George Frazer notes the duties of civil government were
taken up by "younger and more vigorous" leaders when priestly
kings became overburdened by restrictions and taboos. In effect, the
divine king retained his religious duties, but the country was ruled by
others, such as generals or war-chiefs. Some priestly kings retained
a certain level of influence or power, but others were merely
figureheads with "no political authority." Frazer also says that
oftentimes "no one could be induced to accept the dangerous
distinction" of divine king, due to the likelihood of being put to death.

Chapter 18: The Perils of the Soul

Chapter 18 contains three sections and discusses a new topic: the
nature of the human soul and various dangers to it.

1. The Soul as a Mannikin

Some cultures believed the soul to be a mannequin, or a little
person living inside the person. The savage person, says Frazer,
thinks "if an animal lives and moves, it can only be ... because there
is a little animal inside which moves it"; so it is with human souls,
too. Such souls were believed to greatly resemble the person, so "as
there are fat bodies and thin bodies, so there are fat souls and thin
souls." Furthermore, if such a mannequin animates the body, then
the mannequin must be temporarily absent during sleep, and
permanently absent after death. Frazer suggests many taboos
observed in these cultures were intended "to prevent the soul from
leaving the body" so the person would not die, or to ensure the soul
would return if it did go temporarily absent. Frazer also notes that
sometimes the soul was conceived of as an animal rather than a
human.

2. Absence and Recall of the Soul

Frazer lists the ways the soul was believed to escape and come
back to the body. Sometimes the soul would depart by the mouth,
nostrils, or other bodily openings. This led to the custom of fastening
fishhooks to the body to catch the soul if it tried to escape. Even
yawning could allow the soul to escape. In some tribes people would
"seal up the eyes, nose, and mouth of a dying person" to prevent his
ghost from causing trouble. A sleeper's soul was also believed to
wander, and the events of the dream are viewed as just as real as
waking life. Thus, "a whole Bororo village has been thrown into a
panic ... because somebody had dreamed that he saw enemies
stealthily approaching it." The absence of the soul during sleep was
seen as dangerous, because if the soul did not come back, the
person would die. People thought one shouldn't awaken a sleeper
"because his soul is away and might not have time to get back."
People also were forbidden to move a sleeper or change his
appearance, because the soul "might not be able to find or
recognize its body upon return, and so the person would die." Souls
might also depart while a person was awake, resulting in "sickness,
insanity, or death." Frazer details many other instances of the soul's
departure, including the soul being stolen by "ghosts, demons, or
sorcerers." People took a variety of precautions to prevent this.

3. The Soul as a Shadow and a Reflection

Some cultures viewed the soul as a person's shadow or reflection in
water or in a mirror. Thus, if a person's shadow were stabbed or
beaten, the person would feel the injury. People took care not to let
their shadows fall into coffins or graves, and some avoided the
shadows of mourners, women, or their mother-in-law, all of whom
were seen as "sources of dangerous influence." Similarly, some
cultures believed reflections were the person's soul. "The reflection-
soul," writes Frazer, "is exposed to much the same dangers as the
shadow-soul." People avoided looking at their reflection, and the
Greeks even believed that to dream of one's reflection signaled
impending death. Some believed "water-spirits would drag the
person's reflection or soul under water, leaving him soulless to
perish." Frazer theorizes various people cover up mirrors after a
death in the family for fear the soul—as a reflection—"may be
carried off by the ghost of the departed." Portraits, too, were often
thought to contain a person's soul, and some tribes feared being
photographed for this reason. Frazer points out such beliefs
regarding portraits still existed in parts of Greece and Scotland in his
own time.

Analysis
People have often envied kings and emperors, but James George
Frazer's treatment of their daily routines reveals that their lives were
not particularly enviable. The various taboos and restrictions
enumerated in Chapter 17 dispel the glamour surrounding royalty in
ancient times—and such protocols still exist today in monarchies.
Modern royalty is often expected to observe specific etiquette, dress
and speak in certain ways, attend state functions and events, and so
on. Frazer's description of royal personages becoming "lost in the
ocean of rites and taboos" is a poignant reminder that even people
of the highest rank have their sorrows to bear. In Section 2 Frazer
highlights the historical beginning of the separation of religious and
political roles for leaders, a precursor to the modern idea of
separation of church and state.
Chapter 18 tackles the nature of the soul, a subject people still find
perplexing. To Christian Europeans reading Frazer's text, these
ideas would have seemed novel, even heretical. The Christian idea
of the soul is a unique, physical embodiment of the human being,
with an eternal life capable of being resurrected with the body. The
notion that animals could have souls or that souls could wander was
anathema to many of his readers.

Today, however, many of the ideas Frazer presents are current in

one form or another. Early man's idea of the soul traveling during
sleep—as a mannequin—isn't far off from today's new-age notions
of "astral travel" during dreams, shamanic journeywork, and even
near-death experiences. Early man's belief in the soul as an animal
echoes today in the notion of spirit animals or totem animals.
Furthermore, the idea souls might be lost, stolen, or depart, resulting
in physical or mental illness, exists today in modern shamanic
beliefs and practices, such as soul loss, the idea trauma can splinter
off a piece of a person's soul; soul retrieval, the finding and returning
of such lost soul parts to the body; and shamanic extractions and
journeywork for healing purposes. And the notion of the soul being
stolen in a photograph lingers in the modern world in places such as
the Amazon.

Summary

Chapter 19: Tabooed Acts

Chapter 19 has five sections, all of which discuss various prohibited
or taboo acts.

1. Taboos on Intercourse with Strangers

James George Frazer relates the various "royal rules or taboos"
meant to safeguard the life of the king, and thus by extension, his
entire people. Such kings generally lived in seclusion, especially
from "magic and witchcraft" practiced by strangers. For this reason,
strangers were often required to undergo ceremonies of purification
"for the purpose of disarming the strangers of their magical powers."
These ceremonies involved such varied customs as burning
incense, striking bells or tambourines, prayers, offerings, sacrifices,
song and dance, and washing or being sprinkled with water.
2. Taboos on Eating and Drinking
People followed rules to safeguard the soul, which could escape
through the mouth "or be extracted by the magic arts of an enemy
present." Some kings could not "be seen eating or drinking by man
or beast under pain of death." Others had the leftovers of their meals
buried to prevent sorcerers from using the remains "to cast a fatal
spell over the monarch."

3. Taboos on Showing the Face

Some sultans veiled their faces or spoke only from behind a curtain
for protection. Frazer surmises such customs were intended to keep
evil spirits away.

4. Taboos on Quitting the House

Some rulers could not leave their palace, or if they did they were not
allowed to be seen by anyone. One king was even confined to the
top of a tower, and if he displeased his people, they might choose to
starve him to death.

5. Taboos on Leaving Food over

Some cultures believed sorcerers could do harm or even kill by
using a person's leftover food or dishes; to prevent this, people took
care to dispose of their leftovers completely. Similarly, it was
considered a mark of good faith to eat together, because the same
food would be in each person's stomach, and "any harm he might do
to his fellow would recoil on his own head" equally.

Chapter 20: Tabooed Persons

The six sections of Chapter 20 all relate taboos against specific
classes of people.

1. Chiefs and Kings tabooed

Many kings or chiefs, by virtue of the "powerful magical or spiritual
force" within them, were considered both a blessing and a danger to
others. For this reason, such rulers were often kept secluded, and
people were forbidden to eat their food, wear their clothes, entire
their house, and so on.

2. Mourners tabooed
Some cultures kept people in seclusion after they had physical
contact with the dead—sometimes for many months. Such people
were often forbidden from touching food with their hands and had to
be fed by others or pick up food with their mouth.

3. Women tabooed at Menstruation and Childbirth

Women menstruating or giving birth were considered unclean or
unlucky and were often forced into seclusion, forbidden from
touching any man's belongings, and subject to many other
restrictions. Women who miscarried or had stillborn children were
considered especially unlucky.

4. Warriors tabooed
Warriors had to endure a "state of seclusion or spiritual quarantine,"
both before embarking and upon returning home. Abstinence was
required in some cases, and there were rules about how warriors
should eat, sleep, sit, walk, and even scratch themselves.
5. Manslayers tabooed
Killers—even warriors—faced restrictions, most likely from "a dread
of the angry ghosts of the slain." Again, such people were often
isolated from the tribe, could not feed themselves, could not visit
their family, and so on. Manslayers might also have to undergo a
purification ceremony, ritual ablution, or washing, or offer sacrifices
to appease the slain. As for murderers, some were put to death,
ostracized for a period, or required to give presents to the family of
the deceased.

6. Hunters and Fishers tabooed

Section 6 closes Chapter 20 with a discussion of hunters and fishers
who had to observe similar restrictions to those of a warrior or
manslayer, including abstinence, fasting, frequent bathing,
purification ceremonies, and even confessing transgressions before
a hunt. A hunter or fisher also feared and tried to appease the spirits
of the animals he had killed, because people often believed animals,
too, had souls. There were also strict rules about how the dead
bodies of the animals had to be handled, both to avoid offending the
animal's shade and to protect the hunter's own soul.

Analysis
One of the key elements of Chapters 19 and 20 is contagious magic,
which operates under what James George Frazer calls the mistaken
assumption that "things which have once been in contact with each
other are always in contact." Frazer's earlier definition of the law of
contact in sympathetic magic proposes anything once in contact with
a person—such as hair, clothes, or other personal possessions—
could be magically used against him or could contaminate other
people. The various tabooed acts named in Chapter 19 were meant
to avoid this type of contagion, particularly from "magic and
witchcraft" of strangers. Kings lived in isolation, observed strict rules
regarding food, and so forth to prevent anyone from gaining power
over them.
Chapter 20 builds on this idea of contagious magic, noting the king
be harmed through contagion, but the king also could harm anyone
who had contact with his body or possessions. Thus, a king was
both a blessing and a danger to others, as the powers he possessed
could overwhelm and harm the average person. Of the various other
tabooed people mentioned in the chapter, including menstruating
women, women in childbirth, warriors, killers, and hunters, all of
them are related to blood in some way, either through the loss of
their own blood or the taking of another being's life. Later in Chapter
21 Frazer notes some societies considered blood the home of the
soul or spirit; thus, in some tribes contact with blood was tabooed.
This idea may underlie the tabooed people mentioned in the
chapter.

Summary

Chapter 21: Tabooed Things

Chapter 21 has 11 sections defining taboo and describing a variety
of tabooed objects.

1. The Meaning of Taboo

James George Frazer points out that early people had similar
taboos for both holy people and the "unclean and polluted" (hunters,
mourners, and the like), and both categories of people were
considered "dangerous and in danger." Hence, taboos were meant
to protect both the tabooed person and those around him. While
Frazer calls such danger "imaginary," he concedes "it is not less real
because it is imaginary," because imagination can have real
detrimental effects on people.
2. Iron tabooed
Many cultures did not allow kings or priests to touch or use iron
tools, nail, or weapons; nor were these objects allowed in sacred
places. Frazer surmises that "iron was still a novelty," and thus it
was "viewed by many with suspicion and dislike." As a potentially
dangerous substance, iron was often used to guard against ghosts,
evil spirits, elves, fairies, demons, or other beings.

3. Sharp Weapons tabooed

Sharp weapons and knives were often prohibited in sacred homes
or places. They also could not be used after a person's death, to
"avoid cutting or injuring the shade" or ghost of the person.

4. Blood tabooed
Blood was also taboo for people, especially holy people, and this
often included a prohibition against raw meat. This was most likely
because people believed the soul or spirit of the person or animal
remained in the blood or meat. It was also often forbidden to spill
blood on the ground, especially royal blood.
5. The Head tabooed
Many cultures saw the head as the sacred container of a person's
spirit, so the head was guarded from injury or from being touched by
another person.

6. Hair tabooed
People believed in a sympathetic connection between hair and the
person (an example of contagious magic), and hair could be used by
a sorcerer to harm the person. Other cultures believed the god or
spiritual powers resided in the hair. By extension, some people
thought the hair could produce rain, hail, thunder, or lightning, so cut
hair was sometimes used as a rain charm.

7. Ceremonies at Hair-cutting
Cultures often observed special precautions or ceremonies for
shaving or cutting the hair; they wanted to take care not to disturb
"the spirit of the head." Special days might be designated for cutting
hair, and those who cut hair or had their hair cut might be secluded
for a period. Some cultures forbid the cutting of hair entirely.

8. Disposal of Cut Hair and Nails

Both hair and nails were disposed of with care, due to the perceived
sympathetic connection between these items and the person. Hair
and nails might be burned, buried, hidden, or thrown into flowing
water to be carried away so these remnants could not be used to
work magic. Hair and nails were also sometimes used for "the
resurrection of the body" after death.

9. Spittle tabooed
People believed spit carried the same properties of hair and nails, so
they took care not to let their spit fall into enemy hands. Because of
its magical properties, spit could also be used to seal a bargain or as
"a guarantee of good faith."

10. Foods tabooed

Concerning food, some animals or plants were not allowed to be
consumed or even seen in some cases. Such foods might "prove
dangerous or fatal," or could even cause a chief or priest to lose his
magical powers.

11. Knots and Rings tabooed

Knots were also avoided in many cultures, especially in the clothes
of women during childbirth. It was believed such knots might "tie up"
the woman's body, making her delivery difficult—an example of
homoeopathic magic. Similar prohibitions existed against locks
around the home—which would be unlocked during childbirth—or
crossing of the legs—which also could bind up the woman in labor.
Knotted cords or locks could also be used for harmful magic, a use
which could be punished by death in some places. Brides and
grooms also avoided knots and sometimes buttons in their wedding
clothes, as these items might prevent the consummation of the
marriage. In contrast, sometimes knots or locks were believed to
help heal sickness, to "win a lover," to prevent death, to ward off wild
animals, or as a charm against sorcery or illness. Similar properties
were also "ascribed by some people to rings." Rings were believed
to prevent the soul from leaving a dead person's body in some
places. In other locations, rings were "used as amulets against
demons, witches, and ghosts," because they could prevent the entry
of such evil entities.

Chapter 22: Tabooed Words

The five sections of Chapter 22 tell of various tabooed words. Frazer
believes they all spring from the same mindset of early man: a
person's name has a "real and substantial bond" to the person and
could be used by a sorcerer to work magic against him.

1. Personal Names tabooed

Some people changed or concealed their real names to protect
themselves. A person's real name might only be known to a small
group of people, and might only be used on "the most solemn
occasions" such as marriage—and even then, the name might be
spoken only in a whisper. Some people had two names; "one for
common use, the other a secret name" known by only a very few
people, such as the parents.

2. Names of Relations tabooed

Family members and in-laws in some cultures avoided saying each
other's names. Doing so might cause the person's death, anger the
spirits, or even make the crops fail.

3. Names of the Dead tabooed

Some cultures prohibited speaking the name of dead people, often
for "fear of evoking the ghost." Penalties for speaking such a name
could be death or heavy fines. Some people who bore the same
name as the deceased had to change their names; sometimes, the
entire family changed their names. Moreover, if a person's name
sounded like a common word, such as "lion," the word "lion" would
cease to be used and a new word would be substituted or invented
in its place.

4. Names of Kings and other Sacred Persons tabooed

Similar taboos and penalties applied to kings and other sacred
individuals. The names of sacred kings, priests, and chiefs were
often kept secret to guard against sorcery; honorary or royal titles
such as "the great emperor" were used instead.

5. Names of the Gods tabooed

A prohibition against saying the names of deities developed
because some cultures believed the gods could use the names of
deities against each other, just as a human magician could use a
person's real name against him. For example, the Egyptian goddess
Isis was said to have tricked the great god Ra into revealing his real
name, and with this knowledge she gained his powers.

Analysis
Chapters 21 and 22 offer many examples of sympathetic magic, a
recurring notion throughout the book. Contagious magic, the idea a
person could be harmed by something they owned or touched, is
seen in the taboos regarding hair, nails, spit, and personal names.
An example of homoeopathic magic, in which "like affects like," is
the belief a woman in childbirth cannot have knots in her clothes.
The knots might, sympathetically, tangle up her insides and make
the birthing process more difficult. James George Frazer says
taboos, while applying to an entire people in general, were
especially observed for royalty, priests, and chiefs. As the life of the
tribe and the land was often believed to be tied to the life of the
chief, the chief had to be protected above all others. So, rulers or
leaders often had to observe more or stricter taboos than the
average member of the tribe.
In the opening paragraph of Chapter 21 Frazer insightfully notes that
"imaginary" dangers were quite real to early humans. He rightly
points out, "Imagination acts upon man as really as does
gravitation," a phenomenon recognized today in the placebo effect.
If a patient today recovers from an illness after being given a
placebo—an inert medication with no physical effect—one can
conclude the patient imagined he or she would get better and
therefore did. Similarly, if early humans imagined harm would come
to them by breaking a taboo, then they might, in fact, bring such
harm upon themselves. These ideas are recognized today in
popular psychology and meditation as practices of envisioning.
In the discussion of names in Chapter 22, Frazer points out tribal
languages often became very complicated due to the taboos. For
example, if a deceased person had the same name as a common
object's name, the object's name had to be replaced. This led to the
evolution of tribal languages over time, a fact that confounded
people trying to decipher those languages. Similarly, if a person's
name was prohibited from being used again after his death, other
names or titles were then used to signify the person. These customs
made "the record of past events precarious and vague, if not
impossible," according to Frazer. For after all, "How can history be
written without names?"

Summary

Chapter 23: Our Debt to the Savage

James George Frazer recaps some of the main points he has set
forth in the text, particularly the existence of divine humans who
were spiritual leaders and the strict rules they had to observe. The
author again notes that ordinary tribe members could choose
whether to obey such taboos, but "in the case of the god-man it is
enforced under penalty of dismissal from his high station, or even of
death." The author calls the reasoning behind this system "crude
and false," yet he allows that "it would be unjust to deny it the merit
of logical consistency." Frazer declares it would be "ungrateful" to
"stigmatize these premises as ridiculous" because they laid the
foundation for further human progress. He acknowledges this debt
to the "nameless and forgotten toilers," calling for gratitude for their
achievements, which "have largely made us what we are." In each
age, Frazer says, humankind can add only small contributions, and
modern humans should not count their own achievements as
greater than those of earlier people. He cautions against "contempt
and ridicule and abhorrence and denunciation" toward "the savage
and his ways," advising thankfulness for early humans' contributions
instead. Their ideas were "simply hypotheses, justifiable as such at
the time," he says, and "after all, what we call truth is only the
hypothesis which is found to work best."
Chapter 24: The Killing of the Divine King
Chapter 24 contains three sections, considering various aspects of
the killing of divine kings.

1. The Mortality of the Gods

Frazer says early people believed gods to be mortal just like
themselves. These beliefs encompassed gods who died and came
to life again as well as those who simply grew old and died. He gives
several examples, including the graves of Zeus, Dionysus, and
Apollo, and the tombs and mummies of Egyptian gods.
2. Kings killed when their Strength fails
Early people believed the health of the land and people were bound
to the health of its divinity, a human god; thus came the fear of what
would happen when the deity grew old and feeble. To preserve the
world's prosperity, early people determined "the man-god must be
killed as soon as he shows symptoms that his powers are beginning
to fail." His soul was transferred to a "vigorous successor" so it
would not be lost or captured "by a demon or sorcerer." Thus, many
man-gods were not allowed to die a natural death; they might be
stabbed, strangled, clubbed, hanged, starved, suffocated, poisoned,
speared, or otherwise killed, often by the appointed successor.
Frazer also notes some kings were open to attack at any time, even
in the prime of life and health, by a rival to the crown—including his
own sons. He was then forced to battle to the death to retain his title
and power. Furthermore, a king's failure to satisfy his wife or wives
sexually could sound his death knell, for if the king is no longer seen
as fertile, then he can no longer safeguard the fertility of the land.
Frazer equates all of this to the priests of Nemi who were tied to the
land's fertility and regularly killed to ensure its abundance.

3. Kings killed at the End of a Fixed Term

This section tells of similar customs, but in this case the allotment of
time for a king's rule was predetermined. The length of time might be
12 years, as in Southern India, or one year, as in Babylon. At the
end of the prescribed time, the king was either killed or committed
ritual suicide. In some cases, any man who killed the king at the
appointed time earned the crown—but he himself might be
immediately killed by another contender for the throne. In other
cultures the monarch could appoint a substitute to die in his stead,
whether it was his own son (as in Sweden) or a "tribute of seven
youths and seven maidens," said to be imprisoned or devoured by
the Minotaur in Crete. Prisoners also sometimes died in the place of
the king.

Analysis
In Chapter 23 James George Frazer uses metaphors, similes, and
analogies to make his points hit home with readers. In discussing
the early man-gods, he says the many taboos were like "cobwebs";
they "spun about the path of the old king" and trapped the king like a
fly in the spiderweb. Later he says modern humans are "like heirs to
a fortune," the wealth of knowledge passed down by earlier
generations. He also compares early and modern humans: each
form their own hypotheses in the search for the truth. Frazer
recognizes that someday even modern humans' hypotheses may be
viewed as "crude and false," so he advises a grateful indulgence of
any flaws in early humans' line of reasoning. In writing this chapter
Frazer steps away from purely scientific analysis and offers his own
opinions, telling readers how to view early humans'
accomplishments. While his points seem noble and gently phrased,
some readers might not appreciate being told how to think, and may
feel such opinions do not belong in scholarly works.
Chapter 24 provides food for thought regarding the nature of divinity,
notably the idea that deities could be mortal, perish, and be replaced
by a successor. Such a concept may be unfamiliar to readers from
monotheistic cultures with an eternal deity, one who is not born and
will never die—Christianity's God or Islam's Allah, for example. The
idea that ancient pilgrims or tourists might have traipsed over the
grave of Dionysus or Zeus can be rather mind-bending, blurring the
lines between mythology and history. In Section 2 Frazer's portrayal
of the various reasons a king could be killed—and the gruesome
ways this might be accomplished—underscores the precariousness
of a king's position. It is easily understandable why some cultures
had a hard time finding a willing monarch. As Frazer says, it is no
wonder "the throne stands vacant" at times. This contrasts with
those eager candidates in Section 3 who scrambled to gain the
throne by killing the current king.

Summary

Chapter 25: Temporary Kings

Chapter 25 gives an overview of cultures with a temporary king,
from the King February of Cambodia to Siam's King Hop. James
George Frazer notes this was likely a softening of the custom of
regicide—neither the king nor a substitute was killed, though there
was sometimes still "a mock execution ... as a memorial of the time
when he was actually put to death." The reign of a temporary king
often lasted just a few days but was sometimes as long as a year.
Sometimes the temporary kings were drawn from the royal family,
but this was not always the case. Temporary kings often had all the
powers of the actual king, and were entitled "to seize and
confiscate" money and goods from the markets and ships, along
with other royal prerogatives and lavish treatment. Some of these
kings served the magical purpose of ensuring fertility for the crops
as well, such as by plowing and sowing the fields with seed. Frazer
also notes that in some places temporary kings were not appointed
regularly, but "only to meet a special emergency, such as to relieve
the real king from some actual or threatened evil." The temporary
king would stand in the real king's place to take the brunt of any
such evil.

Chapter 26: Sacrifice of the King's Son

Continuing the theme of substitute kings, in Chapter 26 Frazer says
oftentimes it was the king's son who was chosen to be sacrificed in
his stead. This was seen as most appropriate because "no one
could so well represent the king in his divine character as his son."
For example, King Aun of Sweden sacrificed nine of his sons over
the course of his reign; so, he lived well into old age. In Alus,
Greece, the oldest royal son of each generation in the family of the
king Athamas was sacrificed to Laphystian Zeus to prevent the
failure of the crops. Similar sacrifices of royal progeny were offered
to Dionysus in Greece and by Cronus, king of the Semites in
Western Asia, who sacrificed his son "as a ransom offered to the
avenging demons" during times of crisis.

Chapter 27: Succession to the Soul

Chapter 27 opens with commentary on the various ways tribes or
individual families died out due to the practice of killing their own
members. Initially, this topic references the idea of divine kings
being put to death, to which Frazer says that "it may be objected that
such a custom would tend to the extinction of the royal family."
However, he explains that this objection was not usually one
considered by early humans. The author says, "Many races ... have
indulged in practices which must in the end destroy them." Among
these practices, he lists several instances of tribes killing their infant
children, and of one tribe practicing "the poison ordeal" in which
members take poison to prove their innocence or guilt. Frazer notes
such tribes had no hesitancy to wipe out their own kind, and says,
"To attribute such scruples to them is to commit the common ...
mistake of judging the savage by the standard of European
civilization."

Frazer then relates the death of divine individuals to "the idea that
the soul of the slain divinity is transmitted to his successor." This
was sometimes achieved by the king's son or other successor
catching his last breath in a bag or by sucking it in through a tube.
The king's spirit could also be obtained by possessing parts of his
body, such as bones, nails, or hair. In some cases the successor
must even eat a part of the dead king, such as his tongue or heart.

Analysis
In these chapters James George Frazer continues to explore the
topic of killing the divine king, which he began in Chapter 24. He
offers more anecdotes suggesting such a king had a magical
function—the fertility of the earth—and sacrifices were required to
ensure abundance continued. Frazer himself notes that "direct
evidence ... is wanting" in many regards. He connects changes in
these customs over time, from killing the king to killing one of the
king's relatives or another substitute, and finally to not killing either
the king or a substitute. Frazer seems to view this progression as a
positive evolution in human thought, a gradual refinement of
humankind away from "barbaric" traditions to "the standard of
European civilization." Here, Frazer shows his bias toward his own
society over earlier cultures.
Frazer's commentary in Chapter 27 on the ways in which royal
families and cultures destroy themselves through killing is striking. In
modern times, the family unit is often considered of supreme
importance, but it seems this was not the case for tribes in ancient
times. In Frazer's interpretation, blood relations, including newborns,
do not seem to have held the same importance for some tribes then
as they do now for many people. The welfare of the tribe was,
apparently, placed above individuals' welfare. This is demonstrated
in the killing of infants, which Frazer notes might slow down the
women when the tribe was "on the march." It is also seen in the use
of the poison ordeal, which tribe members willingly took, even
though it could end their individual lives. In any case, it seems clear
the tribe was valued more highly than the individual, and tribe
members were willing to do whatever was necessary to ensure the
good of the tribe—even killing their own children.

Summary

Chapter 28: The Killing of the Tree-Spirit

Chapter 28 contains nine sections relating various versions of the
custom of killing a tree-spirit, "the spirit of vegetation," ensuring
earth's fertility. James George Frazer points to the King of Nemi as
an example of this and looks for other examples in various regions.
1. The Whitsuntide Mummers
Frazer discusses customs in Northern Europe, particularly "rural
festivals of the peasantry." A tree-spirit figured prominently in
Whitsuntide celebrations, which happen seven weeks after Easter. A
mummer—a person who wears a disguise during a festival—played
the role of the tree-spirit, decked out in leaves, branches, and
flowers. He was escorted or chased throughout the village, where he
or his escorts might receive presents from the villagers. This tree-
spirit might be doused with water or dunked in a stream, and often
people pretended to kill him, after which he returned to life again.
Frazer compares these tree-spirits to the Grass King, May King, and
other "representations of the vernal spirit of vegetation" from
previous chapters. He proposes the killing of this tree-spirit is meant
to purge the decay of winter and invigorate new life and growth in
spring, "a revival or resurrection ... in a more youthful and vigorous
form." He also compares the mummer being chased to the flight of
the Kings of the Wood at Nemi.

2. Burying the Carnival

Frazer explains two figures, one of which is the "personification of
the Carnival" and the other is death. Carnival, a time of merriment
and free license, often ended with the pretend death of the carnival
figure. This figure was often a giant puppet manipulated with strings
by hidden men. The effigy was paraded through the streets on a
chair atop a decorated car, followed by policemen passing out wine
to the public. At last it was burned in a central square. Other figures
might accompany the carnival, including gravediggers, pretend
priests or bishops, the devil and angels, judges and lawyers, or the
"wife" of the carnival in mourning. The carnival might also be
represented as "a straw-man at the top of a pole" or "a living man
who lies in a coffin." A mock trial might be held, as well as a funeral
oration, and the figure might then be buried in a churchyard, burned,
hanged, shot, or thrown in a river.

3. Carrying out Death

Some customs were similar to the burying of the carnival but
centered on the figure of death. These festivities often ended with a
ceremony or announcement meant to usher in "Summer, Spring, or
Life." A straw effigy, doll, or puppets of death would be carried
throughout the streets by boys or girls singing songs and receiving
gifts at each home. One such song was, "Now we carry Death out of
the village and Spring into the village." The children would then
throw the figure of death into the water "to ensure a fruitful and
prosperous year." Alternately, the figure of death might be burned,
beaten with sticks, torn to pieces, scattered across the fields, or
even tossed into the next village in the hopes ill luck would follow it
there. Frazer notes the figure of death was "regarded with fear and
treated with marks of hatred and abhorrence," and carrying out
death was a means of protection from sickness and plague.

4. Bringing in Summer
A similar custom involved ringing in the new season either by
announcement or in ceremony; this generally took place after the
carrying out of the figure of death. Often a cut tree was adorned with
ribbons, branches, flowers, clothes, and other decoration, and
children or women carried it throughout the village, singing
welcoming songs for summer. This figure was alternately called
Summer, May, the Bride, or Life. In some places, the effigy of death
would be stripped of its clothes, which were then placed on the cut
tree or donned by a young girl who returned to the village, singing of
the carrying out of the figure of death. To Frazer these customs
clearly indicate "a kind of resuscitation" of the destroyed effigy, a
symbol of new life emerging from death. In some cases, people
carried back bits of the destroyed effigy to scatter on their fields or
place among their livestock, believing it had "a fertilizing power."
Frazer also equates the cut trees with the May trees of other
cultures.

5. Battle of Summer and Winter

Frazer describes popular customs related to "the dormant powers of
vegetation in winter" versus "awakening vitality in spring," which took
place as a "dramatic contest." Groups of young men or individuals
would battle in the guise of the seasons, decked out in furs, moss,
and straw for winter, or leaves, ivy, and flowers for summer. In the
end, winter was defeated in battle, dunked in water, or driven out of
the village by summer.

6. Death and Resurrection of Kostrubonko

This section describes the death and resurrection of a mythical
figure in Russia. A funeral was held for Kostrubonko, "the deity of
spring," with a young girl playing the part of the dead figure who
suddenly came to life again. Other mythical figures—Kupalo,
Kostroma, Lada, and Yarilo—also played a role in similar rites, with
girls, trees, straw figures, or other representations adorned in
flowers, clothes, or ribbons, representing these personas. Such
figures might be bathed or thrown into water, torn apart, or buried in
a mock funeral. Games, dancing, bonfires, and processions often
began or ended the ceremonies.

7. Death and Revival of Vegetation

Frazer restates the idea of the death figure as representing the
dying vegetation. He then theorizes why these ceremonies of death
were met with the conflicting emotions of fear, sorrow, and rejoicing.
He postulates the fear might have stemmed from belief in the
"infectiousness of the dead spirit of vegetation," so people would
rejoice at death's defeat. Frazer notes these believers also felt
sorrow, affection, and respect for the dead, which would explain
their mourning. Moreover, they rejoiced at the coming of spring or
summer.

8. Analogous Rites in India

Young girls in Kanagra, India, engaged in similar celebrations. The
girls created a large pile of flowers and grass, and placed clay
images of the deities Siva and Parvati atop. They sang in a circle
around the heap, held a marriage ceremony for the deities, and
hosted a feast. Later, they threw the images into the river, weeping
over them as if at a funeral. Says Frazer, the point of this ceremony
was "to secure a good husband." Frazer believes the deities to
represent "spirits of vegetation" due to their placement on the
flowers and grass, and compares the ceremony to the marriage of
the May King and Queen in various European traditions. Also, the
dunking in water and mourning are similar to customs seen in the
carrying out of the figure of death, the "dead spirit of vegetation."
The related notion of fertility returning to the vegetation would
equally bless humans, thus helping the girls gain husbands.
9. The Magic Spring
Frazer again mentions cultures used magic "to ensure the revival of
nature in spring," especially by means of homoeopathic (imitative)
magic. People dressing in leaves and flowers or playing the role of
death were thought to help the seasons progress. Frazer notes early
humans were not secure in the knowledge of nature's laws, unlike
modern humans, so they could not be sure "the great cosmic
phenomena" would continue with "uniformity and regularity." Nature
was "ever-changing and often menacing" because it was not
understood, Frazer proposes, and thus every eclipse, meteor, or
aurora might cause panic or terror. The author doubts early people
had much understanding of the longer cycles of nature, stating "a
year may well have been so long" that people "failed to recognize it
as a cycle." Thus, early people developed rituals meant to restore or
revive the seasons, the sun, and the moon. Frazer again points out
these magical acts were "experiments" doomed to fail, but people
repeated them over and over, "unaware of their failure." Over time,
says Frazer, such ceremonies lost their original meaning and
devolved into "simple pageants, mummeries, and pastimes," until
they were finally abandoned.

Analysis
Chapter 28 offers copious examples of the ceremonies various
cultures enacted to usher in new life, fertility, and vegetation in the
seasons of spring and summer, banishing winter in the effigy form of
death. In each section, the killing of the tree-spirit is represented by
various figures, often bedecked with the elements of nature—leaves,
flowers, branches, and the like. In all these examples, James
George Frazerhopes to support his theory of the Kings of the Wood
as a dying and reviving god, representing and ensuring fertility with
his death and rebirth. The scope of traditions in far-flung lands is
impressive and thought-provoking, but again Frazer is unable to
offer solid proof of a connection to the Kings of the Wood. In the final
section Frazer reverts to speculation on the workings of early
humans' minds, making assumptions about what people must have
known and how they must have thought; again, this thought process
—to him—falls short of the rational, scientific, and certainty-filled
way modern humans view the cycles of nature.
Summary

Chapter 29: The Myth of Adonis

James George Frazer opens Chapter 29 by reviewing how the
cycles of nature came to be tied to the belief in "the waxing or
waning strength of divine beings," with "the old magical theory of the
seasons" being overtaken by religion. Magical rites were then
undertaken to "aid the god who was the principle of life," to "recruit
his failing energies and even raise him from the dead." Thus, the
marriage, death, and resurrection of the gods gained precedence in
restoring fertility to the earth. Rites celebrating this phenomenon
were prominent in Egypt and Western Asia, Frazer relates, citing as
an example the myth of Adonis. Originally named Tammuz in
Babylonia, Adonis—from the Semitic honorary title Adon, meaning
"lord"—was later adopted by the Greeks. As the myth goes,
Tammuz/Adonis was the lover of Ishtar/Aphrodite, but then was
killed by a boar and went to the underworld. Ishtar/Aphrodite
journeyed there to bring him back, entreating the queen of the
underworld, Eresh-Kigal/Allatu to let him go. During
Ishtar's/Aphrodite's absence on earth, "all life was threatened with
extinction," because man and beast failed to reproduce without her
presence. Upon her return with Tammuz/Adonis, however, nature
flourished again. Tammuz/Adonis was permitted to live on earth for
part of the year but had to return to the underworld for the
remainder. Each year, says Frazer, his departure was mourned by
the people, often with songs of lament.

Chapter 30: Adonis in Syria

In Chapter 30 Frazer relates the worship of Adonis and Aphrodite—
known as Astarte to the Semites—in Byblus, Syria, a holy city by the
sea. Cinyras, the king, was said to be the father of Adonis. There
were great sanctuaries and monuments to Astarte and Adonis both
in the city and in groves in the surrounding countryside, set among
high cliff walls, tumbling waterfalls, lush greenery, and gorgeous
views of the sea. In one such forest temple, Adonis was said to have
met Aphrodite, and it was there his body was buried. Each year,
Frazer says, the people performed rites to lament Adonis's death.

Chapter 31: Adonis in Cyprus

Frazer describes the city of Paphos in Cyprus, an island located off
the coast of Syria where the Phoenicians settled and worshipped
Aphrodite and Adonis. He theorizes an earlier goddess, Baalath (or
Astarte), must have "fused in one" with Aphrodite, and this "goddess
of motherhood and fertility" was often represented in the shape of a
cone, pyramid, or conical stones. In her sanctuary there and
elsewhere in the region, Frazer says, "licentious" rites took place.
These included the custom requiring unmarried women "to prostitute
themselves to strangers" in "solemn religious duty" to the goddess, a
practice begun by King Cinyras. His own daughters were not exempt
from the custom, and one story holds Cinyras had incestuous
relations with his daughter Myrrha, who then gave birth to Adonis.
Frazer speculates this alleged royal incest arose from the custom of
inheriting the crown through the female's blood. Thus, a royal king or
prince might marry his own daughter or sister "to obtain with her
hand the crown which otherwise would have gone to another man."
Frazer also theorizes the kings of Cyprus were both the priests and
lovers of Aphrodite, including the king Pygmalion, his son-in-law
Cinyras, and Cinyras's son, Adonis. The title of Adonis appeared to
be tied to the crown, and the king was likely seen as the mortal but
divine consort of Aphrodite/Astarte, as portrayed by the "sacred
harlots of the temple." Frazer points out, "Christian fathers"
(founders) thus viewed Aphrodite as "a common whore." This
custom of "sacred prostitution" was ended by the emperor
Constantine, who "destroyed the temple, and built a church in its
stead." Frazer ends Chapter 31 with the theory that "the witchery of
music" was used in worship there, with harps, cymbals, and other
instruments serving to induce an ecstatic trance in the temple
priests, who would then "converse with the divinity" and issue
prophesies.

Chapter 32: The Ritual of Adonis

Festivals of Adonis were held annually in Western Asia and Greece,
where the death of the god was mourned, followed by the
celebration of his resurrection. In Syria, this festival likely took place
in the spring, when the mountains washed red earth down the river
Adonis to the sea. "The crimson stain was believed to be the blood
of Adonis," says Frazer. He then compares the festival of Adonis
with the Indian and European ceremonies described earlier in the
text, which included "the marriage of two divine beings" as effigies
"mourned over and thrown into the water." Frazer proposes these
effigies represent the vegetation, and the festival celebrating
Adonis's death and resurrection was thus a celebration of the "decay
and revival of plant life," particularly corn. Tammuz/Adonis as a
corn-spirit gained precedence, says Frazer, when nomadic life went
into decline and people began to depend on cultivated crops.
"Hunger," the author notes, "was the mainspring of the worship of
Adonis." Frazer also proposes a second theory: Adonis represents
"the natural decay of vegetation," and his death was seen as "the
violent destruction of the corn by man," or the harvest. Frazer finally
conjectures that human sacrifices may have been offered to
appease the corn-spirit, and the blood of the dead returned to life in
the spring flowers and the fattening corn.

Chapter 33: The Gardens of Adonis

Frazer surmises "gardens of Adonis" are further proof Adonis
represented vegetation and corn. Grains, greens, and flowers were
planted in small pots or baskets for eight days but were left to wither
away in the sun's heat. These gardens were then "carried out with
the images of the dead Adonis" and thrown into water together; thus,
Adonis was represented in both human form as images, and
vegetative form, as gardens. Frazer then relates similar gardens
cultivated in Bengal, India, Sardinia, Sicily, and elsewhere. The
gardens were often planted in spring, midsummer, or at Easter.
Some of the celebrations were Christian, with "a waxen effigy of the
dead Christ" being decked with flowers, lamented by wailing
mourners, and then buried. At the appointed time, a bishop
announced "Christ has risen," and joyous festivities began. Frazer
says, "The church has skillfully contrived to plant the seeds of the
new faith on the old stock of paganism," and he speculates that "the
Easter celebration of the dead and risen Christ was grafted upon a
similar celebration of the dead and risen Adonis." Furthermore,
Frazer tells of a grove dedicated to Adonis in Bethlehem, the
traditional birthplace of Christ. Bethlehem's name means "the House
of Bread," and together with Christ's proclamation "I am the bread of
life," Frazer connects Jesus with Adonis in his role as the spirit of the
corn. He also connects the star followed by the three wise men of
the Bible to Venus, the Morning Star, guessing its rising at a certain
time of year must have been the signal to begin the festival of
Adonis. So, Frazer draws another potential link between the festival
of Adonis and the birth of Christ.

Analysis
In these five chapters James George Frazer attempts to prove
Adonis was one of many dying and reviving gods representing
vegetation and fertility. Other gods representing this idea to Frazer
are Tammuz, Osiris, the King of the Wood at Nemi, and the various
May Kings and Queens of Europe. As with much of his foregoing
material, Frazer offers interesting theories and potential correlations
but little proof to support his ideas. He speculates about royal incest
in Chapter 31 but can give no firm evidence. Similarly, in Chapter 32
he creates correlations between the Adonis festivals and
celebrations held in India and Europe without proof that actual
connections exist.
Chapter 31 raises the controversial notion of sacred prostitution, a
practice disapproved of by Christians who later came to inhabit the
same lands; and as Frazer notes, the practice was put to an end by
Constantine. However, to its original practitioners, there was "no
stain attached" to the practice of sacred prostitution. Indeed, Frazer
writes, "Nobody scrupled to take one of these girls to wife when her
period of service was over." These statements show sexuality was
viewed very differently by early Christians and pagans. The
Christian idea of sex being reserved for monogamous marriage
stood in opposition to the pagan notion of sexual intercourse to
honor the god and goddess and promote the land's fertility.

Chapter 32 offers two opposing assertions that can be confusing.

First, Frazer equates the festivals with other, similar springtime
festivals meant to celebrate the end of winter and return of abundant
vegetation. Later in the chapter he theorizes the Adonis festivals
actually celebrated the harvest, which would take place in the fall.
This seems a bit of a stretch, and Frazer himself states on occasion
the difficulty of pinning down dates for when the festivals were
actually held. While Frazer's theories are compelling, much of his
material on Adonis is a sea of speculation—a tendency for which he
has been widely criticized by later anthropologists.

Chapter 33 provides another wonderful example of homoeopathic

magic with the gardens of Adonis. "By mimicking the growth of
crops," Frazer writes, the people hoped "to ensure a good harvest."
The subject of Christianity is addressed in more depth in this chapter
than it has been previously, with Frazer taking a dispassionate look
at the religion through the lens of anthropology. While he describes
the Easter rites factually, this did not prevent such material from
provoking outrage at the time of the book's publication. Frazer
directly correlates Christ with Adonis and claims the church grafted
its own celebrations directly onto existing pagan festivals; this
interpretation was not well received in Europe, which was largely
Christian at the time the book was published. Perhaps Frazer was
courageous to tackle the subject, but in later editions of the book
many references to Christianity were moved to footnotes or
excluded entirely. This raises the question of how well a society can
view itself from an unbiased point of view. In this regard, it seems
Frazer was ahead of his time.

Summary

Chapter 34: The Myth and Ritual of Attis

Attis, sometimes identified with Adonis, was a god of vegetation in
Phrygia, whose "death and resurrection were annually mourned and
rejoiced over at a festival in spring." He was either the lover or son
of Cybele, a fertility goddess in Western Asia, and was killed either
by a boar—as was Adonis—or by castrating himself and bleeding to
death. James George Frazer sees the latter story as "clearly an
attempt to account for the self-mutilation of his priests, who regularly
castrated themselves on entering the service of the goddess."
Frazer then notes the Romans adopted the worship of Cybele,
hoping this would help them drive back the invader Hannibal; this
seems to have worked, as his armies departed within the year.
Emperor Claudius also adopted "the Phrygian worship of the sacred
tree" as part of the spring festival of Cybele and Attis. A pine tree
was cut, wrapped like a corpse, and decorated with violets (said to
spring from the blood of Attis). An effigy, likely of Attis, was attached.
Priests and devotees, in a frenzy incited by wild music and ecstatic
dance, would slash their arms or even castrate themselves, allowing
the blood to flow over the effigy. Frazer speculates this "Day of
Blood" was meant to strengthen Attis for his resurrection, and with it,
the resurgence of nature. Afterward the effigy was buried. At
nightfall the god was proclaimed as resurrected, and a Festival of
Joy—Hilaria—commenced, in which "universal license prevailed."
The festival ended with a procession to the Almo stream, where an
image of the goddess was washed, along with other sacred objects.
"Secret or mystic ceremonies" also occurred, in which initiates stood
in a screen-covered pit, while a bull was sacrificed above them.
Covered in its blood, the worshippers emerged "born again to
eternal life," their sins washed away.

Chapter 35: Attis as a God of Vegetation

In Chapter 35 Frazer relates how Attis was both a tree-spirit and
general god of vegetation. According to some legends, Attis was
transformed into a pine tree, a tree the Phrygians worshipped along
with ivy. Both were sacred to Attis, and were probably venerated
because of their "constant and eternal" greenery, or undying nature.
The festival effigy of Attis was, in some places, kept until the next
harvest "to maintain the spirit of vegetation in life throughout the
year." Ancient statues show Attis bedecked with corn, fruit,
pinecones, and pomegranates, all symbols of nature's abundance.
According to Frazer, the story of Attis's death and resurrection
probably represented the reaping of the grain (death), its storage in
a granary (burial), and then its "coming to life again when it is sown
in the ground" (resurrection).

Chapter 36: Human Representatives of Attis

Frazer observes the high priest of Cybele often went by the name of
Attis, and therefore probably played the role of the god during the
annual festival. Based on the offerings of blood and the effigy
hanged on a pine tree, Frazer theorizes human sacrifices may have
been offered by hanging and killing victims on a tree. He offers as
proof the legends of Marsyas, a Phrygian satyr who was tied to a
pine tree and killed, and Odin, the Norse "God of the Hanged," who
sacrificed himself by hanging from a tree. Artemis may also have
been "annually hanged in effigy." Each of these and other examples
may help support the idea "in Phrygia a man-god may have hung
year by year on the sacred but fatal tree."

Chapter 37: Oriental Religions in the West

Frazer traces the infiltration of Eastern (Oriental) religions into the
structure of Western civilization in classical antiquity, notably that of
Rome and Greece. He theorizes the worship of Attis, with its bloody
rites and ecstatic excesses, was more popular with the "less refined
Romans and barbarians of the West." Frazer says such worship was
"repugnant to the good taste and humanity of the Greeks," who took
up the milder rites of Adonis instead. Frazer blames this spread of
Oriental religions for undermining the very fabric of classical society,
which depended on the individual's submission to the state "for the
common good," an "unselfish ideal" of public service and personal
sacrifice. The invading religions, on the other hand, championed the
individual religious experience as the prime reason for existence,
taking precedence over loyalty and service to the state, a philosophy
Frazer calls "a selfish and immoral doctrine." This trend lasted "for a
thousand years," says Frazer, until the end of the Middle Ages,
when a revival of classical ideals "marked the return of Europe ... to
saner, manlier views of the world."

Next Frazer details the worship of the Persian deity Mithra and
compares the Mithraic religion to Christianity. Mithra, a sun god, was
said to be born on the winter solstice, when short, dark days began
to lengthen, an event generally observed on December 25. Frazer
proposes the Christian church "borrowed directly from its heathen
rival" in fixing the date of Christ's birth to the same day. Prior to 375
CE, Frazer says, the birth of Jesus was not celebrated at all,
because "the Gospels say nothing as to the day of Christ's birth."
Frazer holds the church deliberately superimposed the Christmas
holiday onto the prior pagan celebrations of Mithra "to transfer the
devotion of the heathen from the sun" to Christ. Similar claims are
made for the Christian holiday of Easter, which fell over the spring
equinox, the time historically devoted to the celebration of "the death
and resurrection of Attis." Frazer also lists many other Christian
holidays possibly superimposed over previous pagan festivities,
including the festivals of St. George, St. John the Baptist, the
Assumption of Mary into Heaven, and Feast of All Souls. Frazer
notes there was a "bitter controversy" between Christians and
devotees of Mithra, each claiming their god to have come first.

In Frazer's opinion, the triumph of the church over time was due to
its tolerance of these earlier religious customs; rather than trying to
stamp them out entirely, the church adapted pagan festivals to fit its
own beliefs. Frazer laments this watering down of the ideal
examples set by Christ (and also Buddha in Buddhism) but allows
that "the world cannot live at the level of its great men," so
accommodations must be made for "the prejudices, the passions,
the superstitions of the vulgar." Indeed, by refusing to follow to the
letter the high ideals of holy men—namely in celibacy—humankind
avoided "the certainty of extinguishing the species."

Analysis
In Chapter 34 James George Frazer demonstrates one of his
habitual tendencies, which is to use myths to try to explain various
religious customs. So, the priests of Attis must have castrated
themselves based on the myth that Attis himself did so. Equally, his
worshippers must have avoided eating pork because another myth
held that Attis was killed by a boar.
Chapter 35 delves into the familiar theme of the dying and reviving
god, in which Attis is a god of vegetation who is annually sacrificed
to ensure the fertility of the crops. An interesting addition here is the
inclusion of pine trees and ivy as "constant and eternal" plants
enduring throughout the winter; this foreshadows the revelation of
the Golden Bough itself, which Frazer reserves for the final chapters
of the book. Hint: Like pine trees and ivy, the so-called Golden
Bough is an evergreen.

Frazer is unable to offer proof in Chapter 36 of his theory about

human sacrifices in the name of Attis. Instead he offers
circumstantial evidence from other, distant cultures, from
Scandinavia to the Philippines. His representation of Odin, in
particular, seems off the mark in trying to cast the deity as a god of
vegetation based on the fact he sacrificed himself on a tree.
Subsequent human sacrifice to Odin may have occurred, but there
is no proof such sacrifices were related to the earth's renewal or
fertility. Frazer even notes Odin sacrificed himself to gain knowledge
of the runes, not to promote the fertility of the land. The inclusion of
Odin here as a possible support for Frazer's theories of Attis seems
unconvincing at best.

In Chapter 37 Frazer exhibits extreme bias and moralizing on the

topic of service to the state versus individualism. It is clear he views
service to the state or the "common good" as "unselfish" and
superior, in opposition to the individual pursuit of spiritual attainment,
which he regards as "selfish and immoral." Which ideal is truly
superior is purely a matter of opinion, and here Frazer reveals the
influence of his era, a time in which self-sacrifice was considered the
noblest of virtues and one all individuals should aspire to. Frazer's
comparison of Mithra to Christ is an example of the type of material
that scandalized the public when The Golden Bough was published.
The suggestion the Christian church either fabricated or manipulated
a number of its holidays to suppress paganism would not have been
popular among the European Christian readers of the conservative
Victorian Era.
Summary

Chapter 38: The Myth of Osiris

To open this chapter, James George Frazer notes Egyptian deity
Osiris in one of his aspects was a personification of nature and the
corn, much like Adonis and Attis. He then relates the myth of Osiris's
birth, death, and resurrection. Osiris was born "outside of the year"
of 360 days, during which five days were added to bring the lunar
and solar calendars into sync. He married his sister, Isis, and the
two brought to Egypt many marvels, including wheat, barley, fruit,
and grape vines. However, his brother, Set, conspired to kill him,
tricking him into a coffin to be flung into the Nile. Isis went to seek
the body and eventually found it in Syria. She returned to Egypt,
where Set tore the body into pieces and scattered them across the
land. Isis gathered the pieces and buried them, but her mourning
was so deep the other deities pitied her and "pieced together the
broken body of the murdered god, swathed it in linen bandages,"
and carried out other rites over the body. Osiris then revived and
became the Lord of the Underworld, where he judged the souls of
the newly dead. According to Frazer, Egyptians viewed this
resurrection as "the pledge of a life everlasting for themselves
beyond the grave," and thus all people were buried in a similar
manner thereafter to gain for themselves the same eternal life.

Chapter 39: The Ritual of Osiris

Chapter 39 has two sections about the popular and the official rites
of Osiris. Due to the irregular Egyptian calendar, the official rites
shifted in time each year, and eventually "revolved through the
whole course of the seasons." The popular rites, on the other hand,
were observed by the average people, particularly farmers,
according to seasonal cues such as the flooding of the Nile.

1. The Popular Rites

The annual rituals of the average farmer were celebrated "to secure
the blessing of the gods upon his labors." A festival of Isis was held
when the Nile began to rise; people "believed that the goddess was
then mourning for the lost Osiris," and her tears swelled the river.
Frazer surmises this would make sense if Osiris were a corn god,
because in midsummer the harvest was over and "the corn-god was
dead." The next event was the opening of dams in August to
inundate the fields with water via canals. At this time a young virgin,
playing the role of "bride," might be thrown into the river, "to marry
the river, conceived as a male power, to his bride the cornland," an
act meant to ensure crop growth. New seeds were sown in
November as the floods retreated, accompanied by rites of
mourning because there was no guarantee the seeds would grow.
The springtime harvest was also solemnized with mourning, as the
farmers believed they were cutting down the body of the corn-god
himself. Frazer then notes several other cultures observed similar
mourning customs at the harvest, including the Cherokee Indians
and groups in the East Indies, East Africa, and Moab.

2. The Official Rites

Among the rites performed by the priests of Egypt was a yearly
passion play held to recreate the death and resurrection of Osiris,
during which people mourned and lit lamps to burn all night. The
priests would lament and imitate "the sorrowful search of Isis" for
Osiris, and a golden casket would be carried to the sea. Water was
poured into the casket, and "the spectators raised a shout that Osiris
was found." Images of the god were made from vegetables and
spices; these represented the resurrected deity. Frazer believes this
festival may also have been a night of All Souls, honoring all
departed dead. Funeral rites were held annually for Osiris, too,
which lasted 18 days. The main events of these rites recreated his
death, dismemberment, and revivification. Gold images of the god
were cast in the form of a mummy, and "a ceremony of ploughing
and sowing" took place. Water was poured over small "gardens" in
pots, from which barley would grow to symbolize the god's
resurrection and the flourishing of vegetation. Finally, an effigy of
Osiris was laid to rest in a coffin in a holy tomb. Carvings on the
temple of Isis at Philae show "the dead body of Osiris with stalks of
corn springing from it." Moreover, many Osiris figures made of grain
have been found in many tombs, the grains sprouting and thus
symbolizing new life "to quicken the dead ... to ensure their spiritual
immortality."

Chapter 40: The Nature of Osiris

Chapter 40 discusses various aspects of Osiris in four sections.

1. Osiris a Corn-god
Osiris's aspect as a deity of vegetation was celebrated yearly in "the
festival of his death and resurrection" at the time of sowing. An effigy
of the god was buried in a mock funeral, so "he might come to life
again with the new crops." Frazer cites this as an example of
sympathetic magic, "a charm to ensure the growth of the corn."
Frazer speculates human sacrifices may have been offered, with the
victim representing Osiris. The author notes several other cultures
observed similar customs in which a deity was torn to pieces and
then interred in the ground, including cultures from the Arab world,
Europe, Rome, Greece, Norway, and British New Guinea. These
practices all pointed to "a widespread practice of dismembering the
body of a king or magician and burying the pieces in different parts
of the country to ensure the fertility" of nature and humankind.

2. Osiris a Tree-spirit
Osiris's role as a spirit of trees may have predated his role as a
corn-god. His image was carved from wood and then buried within a
hollow tree trunk; this "was probably the ritual counterpart of the
mythical discovery of the body of Osiris" closed up inside a tree.
Also connected with Osiris were conifers and ivy, both eternal in
their greenery, as well as fruit trees and grapevines.

3. Osiris a God of Fertility

Osiris also served as a paternal figure to "bless men and women
with offspring" and "to quicken the seed in the ground." During
festivals dedicated to him, women would carry "obscene images of
him" to make his generative powers of fertility plain to see.

4. Osiris a God of the Dead

The deity held an additional role as "the ruler and judge of the
dead." This was a major role because the afterlife was of great
importance to the Egyptian people. It was Osiris who could "raise
them from the dust to life eternal," just as he made the crops grow.

Chapter 41: Isis

In Chapter 41 Frazer postulates Isis was a corn-goddess, only fitting
because her husband, Osiris, was the corn-god. She was identified
with Ceres by the Romans and Demeter by the Greeks, both
goddesses of grain, and was said to have discovered wheat and
barley. Frazer says the worship of Isis in Rome was so popular,
"some of the Roman emperors themselves were openly addicted to
it." He also compares Isis to the Virgin Mary, not only as a "serene
figure" of "spiritual calm," but also because artwork featuring Isis
suckling the infant Horus have sometimes been mistaken for Mary
and the infant Jesus.
Chapter 42: Osiris and the Sun
In this chapter Frazer weighs the issue of whether Osiris was a sun-
god; he doubts it because there is little evidence to support the
theory. Some writers theorized the myth of Osiris's death and
resurrection related best to the daily rising and setting of the sun,
rather than being linked with seasonal vegetation and crops. Frazer
counters the theory with his own arguments; in antiquity, he says,
people "classed together the worship and myths of Osiris, Adonis,
Attis, Dionysus, and Demeter, as religions of essentially the same
type." Writers Frazer calls "intelligent and trustworthy witnesses"—
such as Herodotus and Plutarch—agreed with this assessment,
saying the worship of Osiris and Dionysus were "so alike as to be
almost indistinguishable." Frazer also declares that the view of
Osiris not as a sun-god but rather as a dying and reviving god is "an
easy and natural" explanation and fits all of the aforementioned
deities well.

Analysis
In Chapter 38 the story of Osiris's birth during the five days "outside
of the year" offers a prime example of mythology created to explain
a natural phenomenon. In the original myth, the god Thoth won
these five days from the moon and "added them to the Egyptian
year of three hundred and sixty days." Such a story marries myth
with science, giving a supernatural reason to explain the workings of
nature. In Chapter 39 James George Frazer notes that the
irregularities of the Egyptian calendar caused festivals to shift from
season to season, which has made it hard to pin down when the
festivals were originally supposed to take place. The difference
between the official rites of Osiris, tied to this faulty calendar, and
the unofficial rites people celebrated is curious. It seems common
humans used common sense—and observation of nature's cycles—
in fixing the rituals at appropriate times during the year. The priests,
on the other hand, clung to a flawed calendar system; it eventually
moved the seasonal rituals away from the seasons when they were
intended to be celebrated.
Modern humans have found it particularly difficult to understand
Egyptian deities because, as Frazer notes in Chapters 40 and 41,
both Osiris and Isis served multiple roles and had multiple epithets,
or names, during the long period in which their worship was
observed. Partly, this was due to the influence of other cultures,
such as the Greeks and Phrygians, who syncretized Osiris and Isis
with gods of their own. Osiris was paired with Dionysus or Adonis,
while Isis was viewed as another aspect of Ceres or Demeter. Over
time, Osiris and Isis gained more and more attributes and became
more complex in nature. It is clear how important Osiris was, as he
ruled over man's very sustenance as the corn-god, nature as the
tree-spirit, the future of humankind through reproduction as the
fertility god, and even the afterlife as god of the dead.
Frazer displays his less-than-flattering view of religion in Chapter 41,
when he says Roman emperors were "addicted" to the worship of
Isis. His characterizes women who worshipped Isis as "gentle
spirits" who were "shocked and repelled" by "bloody or licentious
rites of other Oriental goddesses." Such a characterization seems to
stereotype women of the time as meek, and seems to be mere
conjecture—Frazer's imagining of what women of the time must
have been like. Frazer's comparison of Isis to the Virgin Mary is
another example of his treating Christianity the same as any other
religion. He logically analyzes Christian traditions as mythology, a
stance many of his contemporary readers found objectionable, being
Christian themselves. Seeing the folly in another culture's religion
seems perfectly logical, but applying the same scrutiny to one's own
religion can be uncomfortable at best.

In Chapter 42 Frazer directly refutes a competing theory, something

he rarely does; in this case, it is the theory Osiris was a sun-god. He
offers logical arguments against those who theorize Osiris was a
sun-god. For example, he asks: if Osiris's birth-death-rebirth story
were really about the sun's daily rising and setting, then why was his
festival only celebrated once a year instead of daily? Frazer's
reasoning skills are impressive, and the reader might easily be
swayed to his opinion, but convincing arguments are not the same
as proof, a fact for which Frazer has sometimes been criticized.

Summary

Chapter 43: Dionysus

James George Frazer relates the spread of the god Dionysus into
Greece, with its "ecstatic worship, characterized by wild dances,
thrilling music, and tipsy excess." This god of wine was at the center
of a popular mystery cult, and was also considered a god of trees—
especially cultivated trees and fruit trees, which he was believed to
have discovered. From historical clues Frazer concludes Dionysus
was also a god of agriculture and corn, and says, "Like other gods of
vegetation Dionysus was believed to have died a violent death, but
to have been brought to life again." His death and resurrection were
reenacted at a biennial festival, offering hope of the soul's
immortality to initiates of the mysteries. Dionysus was viewed as a
god "of the lower world or of the dead" and was often seen in animal
shape, particularly as a bull or goat. These animals—and sometimes
humans—were often torn to pieces and eaten by his followers
during their ecstatic rites, and Frazer maintains "they must have
believed that they were eating the body and blood of the god."

Chapter 44: Demeter and Persephone

The myth of Demeter and Persephone is yet another example of
figures "whose tragic story and ritual appear to reflect the decay and
revival of vegetation," says the author. Young Persephone was
abducted by Pluto, Lord of the Dead, who took her to the underworld
to be his bride. Her sorrowing mother, Demeter, sought for her
everywhere and then hid away at Eleusis to mourn. With her, she
took the fertility of the land, vowing corn would never grow again
until she regained her daughter. To appease Demeter, Zeus ruled
Persephone would divide her time between her mother in the upper
world and her husband in the lower world. Persephone's return to
earth was associated with the coming of spring, and her return to the
underworld with the advent of winter. The earth again became
fruitful, and a mystery cult worshipping the goddesses sprang up at
Eleusis. The central mystery revealed to initiates was likely a reaped
ear of corn, representing the return of fertility to the land each year.
Frazer names Persephone as the personification of new corn,
spending the winter months underground and reappearing in the
spring; and her mother Demeter as "the old corn of last year, which
has given birth to the new crops." The mysteries of Eleusis also held
out "the hope of a blissful immortality," suggesting death is only the
beginning of "a better and happier existence in some brighter world
unknown."

Chapter 45: Corn-Mother and Corn-Maiden in N. Europe

Frazer offers numerous examples of the Corn-mother or Barley-
mother archetype, who was "believed to make the crop grow." Such
a nature spirit existed among the Germans, Slavs, French, Scottish,
Welsh, Russians, English, Swedish, and other Northern European
cultures. At harvest time, the last ears or sheaf of corn were made
into a doll or dressed in women's clothes. During the threshing of the
grain, such a figure might watch over the process or even be beaten
to drive out the Corn-mother. Alternately, it might be "drenched in
water" to ensure rain. Often a person also represented the spirit, so
the spirit was present in human form and in the form of vegetation—
the sheaf or doll. This spirit or its likeness—doll, puppet, or sheaf—
was called by many names, including the Rye-mother, Pea-mother,
Flax-mother, Old Woman, Wheat-mother, Oats-mother, Harvest-
mother, Great Mother, Grandmother, Old Woman, Old Man, the
Maiden, Witch, Old Wife, Hag, Corn-queen, Harvest Queen, Child,
Harvest-Child, Bride, and others. Sometimes the spirit was seen as
old—"Grandmother"—and other times as young— "The Maiden."
Frazer ends the chapter by pointing out there were no priests or
temples in these rites, and generic spirits rather than individual
deities were recognized. He emphasizes such rites were magical in
nature rather than religious, as the rites were mean to "influence the
course of nature directly through a physical sympathy" between the
rites and their desired effects, rather than to propitiate a deity.

Analysis
In Chapter 43 James George Frazer offers another example of the
dying and reviving god in Dionysus. The author is rather judgmental
when describing the original worshippers of the deity, the Thracians,
whom he writes "were notoriously addicted to drunkenness." He
compares this to "the clear intelligence and sober temperament of
the Greek race," clearly showing a bias for the Greeks. Interestingly,
Frazer's description of Dionysian worshippers "eating the body and
blood of the god" touches on the same beliefs underlying the
Christian act of taking communion.
In chapter 44 Frazer compares the myth
of Demeter and Persephone with those of Aphrodite and Adonis,
Cybele and Attis, and Isis and Osiris, all of whom have been
explored thus far in the text, and all of whom represent—in Frazer's
estimation—examples of deities of vegetation and fertility. The
notable difference among the pairs is that Demeter and Persephone
are mother and daughter rather than lovers. One theme touched on
in the chapter is life after death, or immortality—a hope offered to
the initiates of the cult at Eleusis. This theme is a perpetual one for
humankind, as people today still seek the same comforting notion of
an afterlife through religion. Indeed, Frazer compares Christianity
directly with the cult of Eleusis at the end of the chapter, with both
holding beliefs of an afterlife, and such beliefs serving to comfort
those left behind at "the deathbed or the open grave of their loved
ones."
The many examples of corn-spirits noted in Chapter 45 are
reminiscent of the tree-spirits mentioned in Chapters 9, 10, 28, and
elsewhere. Frazer writes, "Here the person wrapped up in the corn
represents the corn-spirit, exactly as a person wrapped in branches
or leaves represents the tree-spirit." In making this comparison,
Frazer attempts to build further support for his main theory of the
dying and reviving god as a spirit or deity of vegetation. He believes
the more similar examples he can produce, the stronger his case for
the King of the Wood becomes. In other words, he is trying to find a
universal archetype to explain his original query regarding the priest
at Nemi. However, his theory is still just conjecture, because
similarities among stories do not provide the proof needed to confirm
the nature of the King of the Wood.

Summary

Chapter 46: Corn-Mother in Many Lands

Chapter 46 discusses variations on the Corn-mother in four
sections.

1. The Corn-mother in America

The spirit of the grain is personified as the Maize-mother. As in
European traditions, Peruvians would dress a portion of harvested
maize in women's garments, hold ceremonies of worship, and keep
it throughout the year to sustain the spirit of the grain and encourage
crops to grow. Similar figures or puppets were made of plants and
named the Coca-mother, Quinoa-mother, and Potato-mother, all
crops common to the land. During the year, the people might ask the
figure if she felt weak, and if so, they would burn the figure and
create a new Maize-mother. James George Frazer sees this as
another example of killing the god, in which a weak spirit or deity
must be replaced by a vigorous one to ensure the health of the
community and land.
2. The Rice-mother in the East Indies
Frazer compares harvest traditions in the East Indies with those of
Europe. Frazer explains people in the East Indies region believe rice
is animated and has a soul just like men do, and thus they worship
cereals just as some cultures worship the dead. They treat the rice
with the same gentleness as with a pregnant woman, so as not to
scare off its soul before harvest. If a crop doesn't grow well, people
may believe its soul is away and must be called back; this they do
through song or chant. Prayers and charms are also spoken to
ensure successful sowing of the fields. Representations of the Rice-
mother may be kept in the barn after a harvest to watch over the
crop, often in the form of a sheaf. Representations may also be
made of a Rice-mother and Rice-child, which Frazer compares
to Demeter and Persephone, or a bride and bridegroom.
3. The Spirit of the Corn embodied in Human Beings
In North American tribes old women portrayed the "Old Woman who
Never Dies," a spirit who made the crops grow. Offerings of dried
meat were given to the women to eat in exchange for "a grain of the
consecrated maize" to help fertilize the new crop. Then there was
the harvest-goddess Gauri of India, who was portrayed by a young
girl, together with a bundle of plants dressed in costume.

4. The Double Personification of the Corn as Mother and Daughter

Frazer offers theories on why some cultures developed double
deities to represent the grain. The most prominent example is
Demeter—a Corn-mother—and Persephone—a Corn-maiden.
Frazer suggests the Corn-mother initially was seen as the spirit of
the corn itself, with the corn being animate. Over time, people
anthropomorphized this spirit until it became sufficiently humanlike
to morph into the deity Demeter, leaving the corn itself an inanimate
object once more. Frazer theorizes that "the backward members of
the community" held onto the "old animistic notions," and thus
reinvested the corn with a new spirit: the Maiden spirit, which
eventually became Persephone. Such ideas, however, are "purely
conjectural," according to Frazer.

Chapter 47: Lityerses

Chapter 47 has four sections about songs sung during the harvest.

1. Songs of the Corn Reapers

Frazer seeks the origin of the dying and reviving god archetype in
the "rustic rites observed by reapers and vine-dressers." He believes
the archetype arose prior to the advent of dying god deities such as
Persephone, Adonis, Attis, Osiris, and Dionysus, and its roots may
be found in primitive agricultural customs. One such custom is the
singing of lamentations as the crops are cut or harvested, which
Frazer believes to be "a dirge for the death of the corn-spirit ... and a
prayer for its return." Frazer offers examples of such lamentations,
ranging from Egypt and Greece to Phoenicia and Western Asia.
2. Killing the Corn-spirit
The harvest song called Lityerses was named after a son of Midas,
King of Phrygia. As Lityerses reaped the corn, he would challenge
strangers passing by to a reaping match. He would then "harvest,"
or kill, them, wrapping them up in sheaves and throwing the bodies
into water—until he himself was slain by Hercules in the same
manner. Frazer compares this legend with the harvest customs of
Europe, noting many similarities: contests to complete the harvest
as fast as possible, dressing a person as the spirit of the corn
(bound in corn stalks, for example), the "death" of the corn-spirit at
reaping or threshing, and the corn-spirit as "represented either by a
stranger ... or by a visitor entering it for the first time." Frazer offers
various examples of each of these customs, pointing out strangers
were rarely killed; they escaped by paying a forfeit. Generally, a
mock death was carried out using harvesting tools, and sometimes a
stranger was thrown into water.

3. Human Sacrifices for the Crops

People were sacrificed in various ways to ensure agricultural
abundance. Such sacrifices happened in Ecuador, Peru, Mexico,
among the North American Pawnees, in West Africa, the
Philippines, India, and elsewhere. Victims sacrificed might be
criminals, captives, slaves, children, old men, or others, and their
bodies were often sown into the soil with the seed of new crops.
Frazer gives particular attention to the Khonds tribe in Bengal,
among whom victims for sacrifice are bought and treated with great
reverence until the time of their death, which could be quite
gruesome. The victim's flesh might be cut from his body while alive,
and it was taken home to various villages and buried as an offering
to the earth goddess. Flesh or the ashes of the body might also be
buried in the fields or "mixed with the new corn" to make the crops
grow. Frazer suggests the victim was a propitiatory offering to the
gods and also possessed magical properties himself.

4. The Corn-spirit slain in his Human Representatives

In Europe and Phrygia—the origin of the story of Lityerses—"the
representative of the corn-spirit was annually killed up on the
harvest-field," Frazer says. The corn-spirit might be represented by
a passing stranger, or possibly "selected by means of a competition
on the harvest-field," with the loser becoming the sacrifice. Frazer
also conjectures the master of the farm himself might sometimes
serve as the corn-spirit. And because Lityerses is the son of a king,
Frazer suggests the myth is connected to the custom of "slaying one
of those divine or priestly kings," or in this case, laying the king's son
in his stead. Frazer next compares Lityerses to Attis, the Phrygian
god of vegetation and "the embodiment of the corn-spirit," pointing
out a representative of Attis was slain each year. The author
surmises Lityerses and Attis might be identical, with Lityerses
coming first in time and Attis evolving later. However, Attis was also
a tree-god and probably slain in the spring, rather than at the fall
harvest like Lityerses, so there is some doubt as to this theory.
Another prominent example given by Frazer of the corn-spirit slain in
his human representation is the Egyptian god Osiris, to whom
victims were sacrificed annually at his grave.

Analysis
Throughout Chapter 46 James George Frazer makes correlations
between modern "primitive" societies such as in the East Indies and
the society of ancient Greece, trying to figure out how the primitive
mind works and to use this to better understand the ancient Greeks
in their worship of the corn deities Demeter and Persephone. In
Section 2 the author notes a lack of logic in the idea that rice has a
soul, yet he overlooks his own lack of logic in trying to make
connections between societies far removed in time and space. In
Section 3 he notes some other races have "lagged behind the
European races in mental development," and these races may offer
better insight into the "original motives for observing these rustic
rites" of the corn-spirits at harvest time. He further generalizes that
similar customs "are not confined to any one race, but naturally
suggest themselves to all untutored peoples engaged in agriculture."
Frazer's descriptions of such societies and peoples as "primitive"
and "backwards" is seen as outdated, stereotypical, or even
offensive by many people today.
Chapter 47 continues the book's theme of the dying and reviving
god with the various corn-spirits serving as the embodiment of
vegetation killed and then reborn in the new crops. Frazer makes
mention of both magical and religious ceremonies related to the
harvest and the killing of the corn-spirit. The magical aspects of such
rites were often sympathetic, such as dousing the representative of
the corn-spirit in water as a means of promoting rain or the
sprinkling of a victim's blood or flesh on the fields to promote new
life. On the other hand, ceremonies were religious when a sacrifice
was offered to appease a deity. As elsewhere in the text, Frazer
tries to string together anecdotes from diverse cultures to support
his favored theory of a vegetative god sacrificed and reborn to
ensure fertility to the land.

Summary

Chapter 48: The Corn-Spirit as an Animal

Chapter 48 discusses the animal forms of the corn-spirit in Northern
Europe in 10 sections.

1. Animal Embodiments of the Corn-spirit

James George Frazer tells of "a new aspect of the corn-spirit," in
which the god or spirit is killed in the form of an animal. It is believed
"the animal flees before the reapers" as they cut the corn, and is
then "caught or killed in the last sheaf." The animal may be
represented by a puppet and taken home on the harvest wagon.
2. The Corn-spirit as a Wolf or a Dog
This form of the corn-spirit was common among the French,
Germans, and Slavs. When the last bit of grain was harvested, the
person cutting it was said to "kill the Dog" or "catch the Wolf." He or
she might also be called the Wheat-dog, Corn-pug, Rye-wolf, or
another name after the spirit of the crop. A sheaf in the shape of a
wolf might be made and kept in the barn during threshing, at which
time the spirit is driven out or killed.

3. The Corn-spirit as a Cock

This form of the spirit of grain existed in Austria, Germany, and
Transylvania. Similar customs are observed as in Section 2, with
small differences. For example, the farmer might hide a live rooster
under the last sheaf in the field, and whomever found it could keep it
—if he could catch it. The rooster as corn-spirit might be beheaded,
eaten, buried, or nailed up in the barn until the next harvest. Its
feathers might then be scattered with the next spring's corn to offer
"its quickening and fertilizing power" to the crops. Frazer notes,
"Thus the corn-spirit, in the form of a cock, is killed at harvest, but
rises to fresh life and activity in spring."

4. The Corn-spirit as a Hare

Some cultures viewed the corn-spirit as a rabbit; examples include
Galloway, Germany, Sweden, Holland, France, Italy, Norway, and
Lesbos. The last bit of corn standing might be woven into a knot,
which the reapers vied to cut down by throwing their sickles. In
cutting the last of the corn, a person was said to "kill the Hare."

5. The Corn-spirit as a Cat

In other traditions the corn-spirit was observed as a cat. A cat might
be "decked out with ribbons, flowers, and ears of corn" as the corn-
spirit, or it might be killed after the last of the corn is cut or threshed.

6. The Corn-spirit as a Goat

The corn-spirit as a goat was traditional in places such as Prussia,
Norway, Switzerland, Bavaria, and elsewhere. The goat might be
represented as a wooden carving, a straw figure, as two horns set
on the last pile of corn in the field, or as a live goat "adorned with
flowers and ribbons" and chased about the field until it was caught.
The goat was then beheaded and served as a harvest feast, with a
small amount of meat being preserved until the next year's harvest.

7. The Corn-spirit as a Bull, Cow, or Ox

In places such as Switzerland, Austria, and France, the corn-spirit
was a bull, cow, or ox. As in the previous sections, a figure of the
animal might be made or a live animal might be killed at the time of
harvest or threshing. Sometimes the figure of a man or woman
representing the bovine spirit might be called the Cow, Old Man,
Buffalo-bull, or other names. Frazer points out "the confusion
between the human and animal form of the corn-spirit"; this
phenomenon happens with some of the other corn-spirit animals as
well.

8. The Corn-spirit as a Horse or Mare

France and England had various horse corn-spirits. In Lille, France,
the youngest horse of a parish would eat the last of the harvested
corn. This horse represented "the corn-spirit of the following year,
the Corn-foal, which absorbs the spirit of the old Corn-horse by
eating the last corn cut."

9. The Corn-spirit as a Pig (Boar or Sow)

These final corn-spirit animals, like the others, were often named
after the crops, such as the Oats-sow, the Rye-boar, the Wheat-
sow, and the Corn-sow. The pig might be represented as a straw
effigy or a bundle of straw ropes. In some regions the pig corn-spirit
was present during spring sowing as well as during the harvest. A
piece of cooked pig, particularly the tail, might be planted in the field
for its "fertilizing power." In Scandinavia people baked a Yule Boar
or Christmas Boar, a loaf made from corn or rye and often shaped
like a pig. The loaf was kept until spring and then fed to the
ploughman or the horses, or mixed in with the seed corn to promote
the corn's growth.

10. On the Animal Embodiments of the Corn-spirit

Finally, Frazer discusses "the sacramental character of the harvest-
supper" in which each of these animals representing the divine corn-
spirit are slain and then eaten. In some cases, people substituted
bread shaped like one of the animals. The author also reemphasizes
the "complete parallelism between the conceptions of the corn-spirit
in human and in animal form." He makes detailed comparisons of
the various corn-spirits, showing the similarities of traditions across
a wide range of locations. Frazer then names other animals that
took the form of the corn-spirit, including the fox, stag, sheep, bear,
mouse, quail, stork, and swan.

Chapter 49: Ancient Deities of Vegetation as Animals

Chapter 49 has five sections, offering details on deities of vegetation
appearing as animals.

1. Dionysus, the Goat and the Bull

Dionysus, Greek god of the vine and trees, had several animal
guises. Dionysus was often seen as a goat, in which form he is
associated with such "minor divinities, the Pans, Satyrs, and
Silenuses," all of which take on goat forms or body parts. In addition,
he could be viewed as a bull. Bulls were often sacrificed as the corn-
spirit, and Dionysus also played a role in the Eleusinian mysteries,
which revolved around corn. Frazer points to these ideas as
possible proof the god was associated with agriculture and the corn.

2. Demeter, the Pig and the Horse

The pig and horse were both common representatives of the corn-
spirit in Europe. Frazer conjectures Demeter, the corn-goddess,
originally may have been a pig but evolved over time into human
form. He describes the autumn festival Thesmophoria, honoring the
corn-goddess, in which women ate swine and preserved part of the
meat to sow into the field the following year to ensure a fertile crop.
Demeter was also said to have taken on the form of a horse as she
searched for her missing daughter, Persephone.
3. Attis, Adonis, and the Pig
Frazer notes Attis may have been viewed as a pig, because he was
killed by a boar and his followers did not eat swine. Adonis, too, may
have been killed by a boar or killed by Hephaestus while hunting
boar, but the connection is less certain than with Attis. However,
pigs were sacred to the Syrians, and Adonis was worshipped there,
so it is possible Adonis, too, was embodied by the pig.

4. Osiris, the Pig and the Bull

Frazer examines the Egyptian god's relationship to the pig and the
bull. Frazer suggests the pig was a sacred animal there, which was
offered and eaten only once a year as a sacrifice; the rest of the
year, touching or eating swine was avoided. Osiris may have been
killed by a boar, or may have originally been a boar himself and over
time took on human characteristics. The annual killing of the pig thus
may have represented the killing of the god in his role as a corn-
spirit. Osiris was also seen as a bull in certain places, which also
may have been a form of the corn-spirit.

5. Virbius and the Horse

Under the name Hippolytus, Virbius—King of the Wood at Nemi—
was believed to have been killed by a horse. Horses often
represented the corn-spirit, so Virbius as a god of vegetation may
have taken the form of a horse. Frazer conjectures a horse may
have been sacrificed annually at Nemi in the same way annual
sacrifices of sacred animals were offered to other gods.

Analysis
As in much of the rest of the text, James George Frazer offers a
wide variety of similar customs from around the world as potential
proof to shore up his theory of the King of the Wood at Nemi. These
anecdotes, while striking, nonetheless do not directly prove his
thesis.
In each section of Chapter 48, there are common themes for the
various corn-spirit animals, including the following:

 Contests often happened at reaping or harvest time. Nobody wanted

to be last in reaping their grain because they often had to take on the
name of the corn-spirit and suffer ridicule, abuse, or mock punishment
—and they might have to keep the name for the entire year until the
next harvest.
  Dances and feasts after harvest were commonly celebrated.
 Of a sick or lagging harvester, it was often thought the corn-spirit
caused his ill. For example, "the Harvest-goat has pushed him" might
be an excuse for a lagging harvester.
 When one farm's harvest was complete, the corn-spirit might be
passed on to a neighbor in the form of an effigy if the neighbor had not
yet finished his harvest. The corn-spirit was thought to flee from field
to field to hide among the unharvested grain. A person caught passing
on the corn-spirit might be ridiculed, detained, or otherwise punished.
 The corn-spirit was thought to live among the crops. Thus, children
were warned not to go in the fields because the spirit could harm them.
When the wind blew, people often said it was the spirit rustling the
leaves and stalks.
 Often people kept some of the sacrificed animal's meat until either
spring sowing or the next harvest. This was believed to maintain the
corn-spirit year-round and to imbue the spring sowing with the spirit's
power of fertility.
These corn-spirit sacrifices may be compared to the tree-spirit
sacrifices Frazer discusses earlier in the text. They are similar in
nature, though the corn-spirit sacrifices are focused specifically on
cultivated crops, while the tree-spirit sacrifices seem to have
extended more to nature in general.

In Chapter 49 Frazer embraces the theory that the deities in

question were once themselves animals. Frazer believes that in very
ancient and primitive times, these animals were seen as corn-spirits.
Over time, as human thought became more sophisticated and
shifted toward religion, the spirits took on human qualities and
evolved into individual deities. Then animals were seen
to represent rather than bethe deity. There is also much debate in the
chapter over "unclean" animals, particularly swine. Cultures such as
the Egyptians and Jews avoided eating or touching swine except on
one day a year. Frazer theorizes the animal was originally seen as
sacred, and people's distaste for swine was a result of "religious
awe and fear" of its "supernatural powers." However, the sacred
nature of the pig was forgotten as anthropomorphic deities rose in
prominence, and eventually only fear and revulsion of the animal
remained.
Summary

Chapter 50: Eating the God

Chapter 50 has three sections describing customs related to "eating
the god."

1. The Sacrament of First-Fruits

The first harvested corn was eaten as a sacrament—"as the body of
the corn-spirit." The corn was baked into human-shaped loaves,
sometimes representing "the Maiden," but other times shaped into a
man. Frazer offers examples of eating the first fruit as a sacrament.
In Lithuania people ate bread and beer; in Japan, cereal cakes; in
East India, rice; in Niger, yams; in East Africa, porridge. Ceremonies
worldwide included purification rituals before eating, blessings by
medicine men, the burning of old possessions and procuring new
clothes and household goods, fasting, dancing, divine fires that
"purged away the sins of the past year," and other ritual activities to
celebrate the first fruits. Frazer sees many of these sacraments as a
"communion with a deity" living within the harvested plant.
2. Eating the God among the Aztecs
Frazer shares "the custom of eating bread sacramentally as the
body of a god" in Mexico. Twice a year worshippers consumed
bread shaped as a god. Frazer classifies this as an act of
transubstantiation, in which the food becomes the body of the god to
the worshippers, and notes this occurred "even before the arrival of
Christian missionaries." Thus, the people "entered into a mystic
communion with the deity" by taking the god's flesh into themselves.

3. Many Manii at Aricia

This section returns to the sacred grove at Aricia (Nemi). Frazer
proposes that the "manii," loaves of bread shaped like men, were
eaten there "when the divine King of the Wood was annually slain."
The loaves were "made in his image" and eaten as a sacrament to
honor the god.

Chapter 51: Homoeopathic Magic of a Flesh Diet

This chapter relates various beliefs about the magical properties of
food, beyond the belief in partaking of the body of the god—in the
form of bread, for example. Many cultures believed eating specific
foods could endow a person with the "virtues and vices" attributed to
the plant or animal. For example, in Native American tribes a person
who ate venison would be "swifter and more sagacious than the
man who lives on the flesh of the clumsy bear." While warriors of
some tribes avoided eating the slow tortoise—lest they themselves
should become slow—other warriors ate the animal in what Frazer
calls "a curious refinement of savage philosophy." Through
sympathetic magic, these warriors believed having "slow-footed"
food in their stomachs would make the game they pursued equally
slow-footed and thus easier to catch. Eating the heart was believed
to impart courage—particularly the heart of a brave human foe.
Frazer gives many additional examples of the supposed magical
properties of consuming various animals from cultures around the
world. He ends the chapter by returning to the idea of early peoples
eating the god; by doing so, one could "shares in the god's attributes
and powers." The author explains if a god is a corn-god, then the
corn is his body; thus, eating the corn—or bread—is the same as
eating "the real body and blood" of the god. Frazer gets in a parting
shot, however, saying "reasonable men" can't possibly believe that
"by eating bread or drinking wine he consumes the body or blood of
a deity."

Chapter 52: Killing the Divine Animal

Chapter 52 discusses the killing of divine animals in five sections.

1. Killing the Sacred Buzzard

Californian Indians observed an annual custom of killing a great
buzzard at a "bird-feast." They believed the buzzard to be the
'Panes,' a woman who was changed into a bird by a god, and she
came to life again each year after being killed. Frazer surmises the
tribe killed the bird in the prime of its life in hopes of infusing the
entire species with fresh life and "all the spring and energy of youth."

2. Killing the Sacred Ram

The ancient Egyptians performed similar annual rites with rams,
sacred to the god Ammon. They would place the animal's skin on an
image of the god, mourn the ram, and then bury it in a special tomb.
The ram was believed to be Ammon himself, and thus the god was
killed. Frazer believes this annual ritual was performed to spare the
god "the weakness and frailty of age."

3. Killing the Sacred Serpent

Various tribes of West Africa ceremonially killed a serpent once a
year. As with the buzzard and the ram, the skin of the serpent was
preserved and hung on a tree annually. The skin served as a
protection for the people, because the serpent was their "guardian
deity."

4. Killing the Sacred Turtles

The Zuni Indians of New Mexico retrieved turtles from a distant lake
and returned with them to the village. They believed human souls
transmigrated into turtles, so the turtles were the reincarnations of
their ancestors. Members of the tribe would spend time communing
with the turtles at home. Then the turtles would be killed and
returned to a nearby river as a "way of sending back the souls to the
spirit-land." In this way, the tribe stayed in touch with the spirits of
the departed. Frazer also conjectures this ritual was part of a larger
ceremony intended to bring rain for growing crops, and perhaps
these ancestor turtles were meant to aid in the endeavor.

5. Killing the Sacred Bear

Various tribes killed bears in sacred rituals. For example, the Aino of
Japan held an annual bear festival in winter during which they
captured a cub and then worshipfully raised it for a few years. They
would then kill and eat the bear, "sending the god away" to its
ancestors. Although the bear was considered divine, it was also
believed to exist to provide food and clothing for the tribe. "It is now
your turn to sacrifice yourself for us," said one tribesman in
addressing the sacrificial bear. The bear was also seen as a
messenger, able to entreat God to send abundant wildlife for the
tribe to eat throughout the year. In addition, people believed they
would gain the bear's strength and courage by eating its flesh.
Similar festivals took place in Siberia as well, and were performed
not only with captive bears but when bears were killed in the wild.

Analysis
In Chapter 50 James George Frazer's description of the eating of
bread as a form of communion, or transubstantiation, helps the
reader better understand the ancient custom, because the Christian
communion would have been well known to most of his readers at
the time—and indeed, to many readers today. Because these
ancient cultures believed in a corn-spirit living within the grain,
eating the bread was—quite literally to them—eating the god,
whereas in modern Christianity the act of transubstantiation is said
to transform ordinary bread—having no indwelling spirit—into the
body of the divine. Both are examples of religious acts, yet Frazer
would likely classify the former as more primitive and the latter as
more evolved on the spectrum of religious thought. In the discussion
on manii in Section 3, the author also toys with the idea bread
loaves may have been a substitute for human sacrifices (based on
woolen effigies that once served this purpose). In the end he rejects
this complicated notion, which is too much of a stretch, even for
Frazer's imagination.
Chapter 51, with magical properties assigned to various animal
foods, calls to mind characteristics people still assign to animals
today. For example, people may say someone has the "heart of a
lion," meaning he or she is courageous, and indeed some early
tribes would eat a lion's heart—or the heart of a fierce warrior—to
gain courage. When Frazer notes "reasonable men" couldn't
possibly believe in transubstantiation—bread or wine becoming the
body or blood of the god—he again reveals his bias against religion.

In a departure from the usual focus on agricultural rituals, Frazer

remarks in Chapter 52 that the killed animals most likely "date from
the hunting or pastoral stage of society." These animals were wild
rather than domesticated, and seemingly had no relation to
agriculture. The killing of the buzzard in Section 1 can be compared
with the killing of a tree-spirit or deity of vegetation; each was killed
to infuse fresh life—the buzzard giving life to its own species, and
the tree-spirit or deity of vegetation to the forests and fields. Section
2 offers another example of possible anthropomorphism in the form
of the part-human, ram-headed deity Ammon. Frazer surmises this
form of the god was an intermediary one, with the original god
possibly being merely a ram and the later god being fully human in
appearance. Chapter 52 also offers a more in-depth look at
totemism, in which various tribes mentioned believed specific
animals served as guardians of their people. Some of these tribes
believed they were descended from the totem animals, which may
explain their reluctance to kill the animals except in special
ceremonies. Transmigration of souls and reincarnation, which have
been briefly alluded to previously in the book, are also given special
attention in Section 4 during the discussion on turtles. Then Section
5 introduces a new concept in divine beings: the animal sent to earth
specifically to provide for humankind and to serve as an envoy to
God. Frazer struggles with whether to classify the bear as a deity,
because it was worshipped and treated with the same respect and
deference a tribe might offer a true deity. The various eyewitness
accounts of the bear-killing ceremonies leave the impression it was
not a true god, even if it was treated as one.

Summary

Chapter 53: The Propitiation of Wild Animals by

Hunters
Chapter 53 relates the custom of appeasing hunted or wild animals
people kill for food, or in vengeance for the death of a relative.
According to James George Frazer many tribes believed animals
have souls, feelings, and intelligence, just like humans, and thus
harming an animal was not done easily or willingly. Early peoples
refrained from killing animals except when necessary, believing the
animal's spirit could return to haunt its killer or could drive away
other game the tribe depended on for food.
Rituals or ceremonies to propitiate the animals were performed
before or after the act of the hunt, including offering prayers, food,
libations, lamentations, and honorary speeches to the animal's spirit.
People asked the animal's forgiveness, treated it with great
hospitality, and asked the animal's spirit to tell other wildlife how well
it was treated by the tribe. Special care was given to the animal's
remains. The skin was often preserved, displayed, or worn in ritual.
The meat was entirely consumed in a feast, with a portion often
offered to the dead animal itself. The skulls and bones were buried
or neatly arranged, never burned, nor were dogs allowed to gnaw on
them. These customs were followed because early humans believed
the animal would come to life again, its flesh forming around the
bare bones. Fearsome animals that people enjoyed eating were
particularly venerated, such as bears and buffalo. The greater and
more fearsome the animal, the longer its ceremony would last.
Similar customs were observed in fishing cultures, and even to
propitiate rats, birds, or weevils infesting a tribe's grain. All these
traditions sought to preserve life-giving food, either in the form of
wild game or in the tribe's store of corn.

Chapter 54: Types of Animal Sacrament

Chapter 54 has two sections about animal sacraments in diverse
cultures.

1. The Egyptian and the Aino Types of Sacrament

Frazer relates Aino customs for killing bears, on which they
depended on for food and clothing. As noted in Chapter 52, the tribe
singled out one bear cub to treat with special regard as a
representative of the species. In doing so, they made atonement for
having to kill other bears for survival throughout the year. Frazer
distinguishes two types of animal worship, which are basically
opposites: "In one, the animal is not eaten because it is revered; in
the other, it is revered because it is eaten." Accordingly, there are
two customs of killing the animal god: killing the god only "on rare
and solemn occasions," such as in an annual ritual, and an "ordinary
and everyday atonement" in which a hunter immediately propitiates
the spirit of the animal with "apologies and sacrifices." Frazer labels
the former type of sacramental killing Egyptian (annual) and the
latter type Aino (everyday or regular). He then offers examples of
the Egyptian style of animal sacrament from various tribes
worldwide, from the Caucasus to India to Africa.

2. Processions with Sacred Animals

Parallel customs involved taking a sacred animal from home to
home as a form of communion within a community. The Gilyak tribe
would lead a bear around the village, while in India, a Snake tribe
would carry a snake made of dough around in a basket. Presents of
cakes, butter, or corn might be offered as a gift to the snake, and its
bearers might sing songs as they proceeded. In each case, the
animal was then killed in a sacred ritual. Some such ceremonies still
existed in Europe at the time of writing as well, including the "hunting
of the wren" in which this sacred bird was annually killed, often at
Christmas time. The bird was then carried from house to house,
songs were sung, and money or food for a feast was collected. The
bird was often buried in a churchyard and laid to rest with dirges and
dancing. The procession was held so that every household "may
receive a portion of the divine virtues" of the sacred animal.

Analysis
Chapter 53's discussion of animal souls echoes the book's earlier
discussion of taboos and rituals observed at the death of humans.
Precautions were taken with both animals and humans to prevent
the spirit of the dead from returning to cause troubles to the tribe or
to the killer—whether warrior or hunter. Rituals or ceremonies
celebrated both the human and animal dead, and were often much
alike in nature, offering prayers, singing, dancing, feasts,
lamentations, and so forth. In the case of animals, special pleas
were made to ensure game would continue to be available to the
tribe and the dead animal would not warn or chase away the wildlife
the tribe depended on for survival. Interestingly, this topic is one
instance in which James George Frazer concedes "savage" beliefs
might be superior to those of modern humans. At the opening of the
chapter he says early humans' belief in animal souls is "more liberal
and perhaps more logical than the civilized man, who commonly
denies to animals that privilege of immortality he claims for himself."
Even though Frazer has his own bias and opinions, he does tend to
leave the door open for other possibilities and speculation. The
author continually strives to uncover the real nature of humankind
rather than simply reinforce his own notions—though he sometimes
does this, too.
Throughout the text, Chapter 53 included, Frazer pulls together
examples from diverse cultures separated by time and distance. The
similarities can be quite striking, and the reader may easily see how
these accumulated anecdotes might have influenced the work of
Carl Jung, the famous psychologist. Jung proposed the existence of
a "collective unconscious," a shared unconscious mind all humans
can access, containing universal ideas and archetypes. Information
from the collective unconscious is accessible, says Jung, through
such activities as dreams or shamanic journeywork—and
shamanism was widely observed in early cultures. Whether the
similar ideas arising in cultures around the world were accessed
through the collective unconscious is an unproved yet intriguing
theory.

Chapter 54 revisits themes previously explored in the text. The

animal processions described in Section 2 are quite similar to the
May Day processions of Europe, though the reason for the
processions differed. May Day and similar processions (as
described in Chapter 10) were based on tree worship and
celebrated the return of vegetation to the earth in spring, whereas
the sacred animal processions of Chapter 54 were meant to bring
the blessing of the particular animal to each household. Two
similarities of the processions, however, were the worship of nature
and the use of ritual to ensure good fortune, blessings, or
abundance for the entire village or tribe.

Summary
Chapter 55: The Transference of Evil
Chapter 55, in four sections, discusses how people attempted to
transfer "disease, misfortune, and sin" away from themselves.

1. The Transference to Inanimate Objects

James George Frazer notes that "the cunning and selfish savage"
would try to banish troubles by conveying them into objects. For
example, in the islands of East India, a person with epilepsy would
be beaten with leaves, which were then thrown away; the affliction
was believed to transfer into the leaves and thus away from the
sufferer. Similarly, herbs or stones might be used to relieve
toothaches, then thrown away or buried. It was believed the next
person to encounter or walk over these items would acquire the
affliction, while "the original patient recovers." Alternatively, a clay
effigy of the patient might be made and buried to take away the
malady and transfer it to another person. Frazer considers these
acts magical rather than religious, as there was no veneration
offered to spirits or deities.
2. The Transference to Animals
People transferred their aches and pains to animals such as goats
and wild boars. In the Arab world a camel was led through the
streets to take on the town's plague and then strangled, while in
India, a buffalo calf was paraded around the corpse of a dead man
to take on his sins. Many of the animals used to take on the ills of
humans were then killed or driven away, never to be seen again. It
was thought the evil died or disappeared along with the animal.

3. The Transference to Men

Often people foisted their ills onto other people or onto a willing
scapegoat, such as the Cingalese devil-dancer. This man would
dance in devilish masks, drawing out the "demons of disease" and
taking them into his own body, then pretend to die to release the ills.
Similarly, in New Zealand, one individual wearing a fern would take
on the sins of the entire tribe, then jump into the river and release
the fern—and the sins. Criminals, holy Brahmans, or slaves might
also serve as human scapegoats. To take away sins or ills, these
scapegoats might be exiled or devote their lives to prayer, or even
be beaten and left to die in a far-off place.

4. The Transference of Evil in Europe

Frazer offers examples of transference of evil from "the civilized
nations of Europe, both in ancient and modern times." The French
would touch their warts with small stones, then leave the stones in
the street; whomever picked them up was believed to inherit the
warts. In England and Wales, a person with a cough would place a
strand of hair into a sandwich and feed it to a dog who would then
take on the cough. Hindus would chant, "O consumption, fly away,
fly away with the blue jay!" to transfer their sickness to blue jays.
Frazer recounts some of these "cures" being practiced as late as
1855 in Wales. Inanimate objects such as trees or bushes were
often believed to take on maladies, too, sometimes by tying a thread
or knot onto the tree, other times by depositing the sick person's hair
or nail clippings in the tree.

Chapter 56: The Public Expulsion of Evils

The three sections in Chapter 56 give insights on public rituals
meant "to free a whole community from diverse evils that afflict it."

1. The Omnipresence of Demons

Humans in earlier times sensed spirits everywhere, whether "fairies
and goblins, ghosts and demons" or other invisible beings. Such
beings were blamed for illnesses, losses, and accidents by early
people; every so often they would make "a desperate effort to chase
the whole pack of them from the land." Frazer declares such entities
have been mostly "banished by the magic wand of science" in his
own time, but to the "savage" mind these spirits were very real.

2. The Occasional Expulsion of Evils

Frazer defines two classes of expelling evil. Invisible evils were
directly expelled, and evils embodied in a scapegoat were indirectly
expelled through the scapegoat. Techniques for expelling invisible
evils included beating the air with sticks, stamping the ground,
yelling or making a great deal of noise, or carrying blazing torches to
"drive away the devil" or evil spirits. These entities were thought to
cause all sorts of misfortune, from sickness to crop failure.
Exorcisms of spirits dwelling within a home are also counted in this
class. On the flip side, sometimes people simply abandoned their
homes, leaving the evil spirits to dwell there in peace.

3. The Periodic Expulsion of Evils

Occasional expulsions of evil eventually turned into regular events,
often yearly. Such cleansings were done so "people may make a
fresh start in life, freed from all malignant influences" thought to
surround them in the form of devils, ghosts, or spirits. Evils might be
expelled using weapons, fire, branches, magical song, prayer,
frightening masks, loud noises, dances, bathing, housecleaning,
animal sacrifice, offerings of food and flowers, verbal banishments,
and so on. Many of these expulsions took place during festivals at
significant times of the year, such as the New Year, an equinox, or
at harvest time. Processions might be made to all the homes of a
village or to the fields to drive out evils, after which periods of silence
might be observed so the spirits could not find their way back to their
old abodes. In Europe such expulsions were directed at witches as
well, through church bells, torch-lit processions, brooms, cracking
whips, horns, wild noises, and shouted chants of "witch flee, flee
from here, or it will go ill with thee."

Analysis
In Chapter 55 the idea of transferring one's ills or sins onto another
could be classified as a form of contagious magic, in which anything
in contact with one person may be transferred to another person—or
in this case, an object or animal. This is seen clearly in the customs
of rubbing a stone over a toothache and then throwing it away (in
Section 1) or in depositing a sick person's hair or nails into a tree (in
Section 4). James George Frazer makes no bones about his disdain
for such practices, judging "the cunning and selfish savage" for
"palming off upon someone else the trouble which a man shrinks
from bearing himself." This is another instance in which the author
shows his cultural bias and can't resist a bit of moralizing. To be fair,
though, Frazer not only details the strange customs of exotic lands,
but also includes superstitious remedies still in existence in Europe
in his own day. As superstitions persist even into modern times, it is
possible some of these same folk remedies are still in practice.
Frazer also notes another interesting custom: the willing volunteer
who takes on the sin of others, particularly of a dying or newly dead
person. This could imply a belief in an afterlife or a deity who
punishes sin, although Frazer does not address this subject here.
The festivals and activities described in Chapter 56 could
reasonably be compared to the killing of the carnival or death
effigies in Chapter 28. These celebrations or rituals were all
intended for the good of the entire community, and served the
purpose of "out with the old, in with the new." In the case of the
carnival or death festivals, the spirit of the old vegetation was killed
so new vegetation could flourish. The annual expulsion of evils, on
the other hand, were intended to wipe out old ills and sins, giving a
fresh start to all the inhabitants of the village. The belief in invisible
entities continues unabated in modern times, as witnessed by
paranormal "ghost busters," religious exorcisms of evil spirits, and
many other customs, both religious and nonreligious in nature. Witch
hunts still continue as well, occasionally making the news in
locations around the globe.

Summary

Chapter 57: Public Scapegoats

Chapter 57 discusses public scapegoats in four sections.

1. The Expulsion of Embodied Evils

James George Frazer picks up where he left off in Chapter 56,
Section 2, when he describes two types of expelled evils: direct
expulsion of invisible spirits and indirect expulsion of spirits within a
living being or "material medium, which acts as a vehicle to draw
them off from the people, village, or town." Such scapegoats might
be one or more people in costume who "personify the devils," and
who are chased off by noise, fire, mock fights, and other methods.
Alternately, a wooden image might be used to capture a demon,
which is then carried to a neighboring village and left there. The
image continues to be expelled from village to village until it reaches
a river, where it is carried away by the water.
2. The Occasional Expulsion of Evils in a Material Vehicle
From time to time scapegoats were expelled in a material vehicle,
such as a boat. For example, when sickness struck a village, people
might load a small boat with offerings of food and tobacco and
entreat the sickness to "depart, and sail away from us directly." Sick
people or their homes might be struck with branches, which were
then tossed into the boat to be carried away by the water. Puppets
or carved figures representing the sick people might also be loaded
into the boat. If such a boat became stranded farther along the
coast, it could incite panic and would be immediately burned
"because demons fly from fire." Sometimes farm animals such as
chickens, llamas, or cows were used as scapegoats instead of
boats. They would be driven out of the village, sometimes to the
neighboring village, supposedly carrying the illness with them. A
person could also be a scapegoat who might be branded, driven out
of the village, or even killed to rid the people of disease or dark
magic.
3. The Periodic Expulsion of Evils in a Material Vehicle
Some customs otherwise similar to those of Section 2 occurred at
regular intervals—often yearly. Boats loaded with offerings or with
"the sins and misfortunes of the people" might be launched.
Processions with dancing and singing might visit each house,
collecting the ills into a pig or another scapegoat, which is then
killed. In China an earthenware jug filled with "stones and bits of
iron" to "represent the ills and disasters of the past year" was blown
up with gunpowder to disperse the evils. Frazer gives numerous
additional examples of regularly held ceremonies meant to expel
evils, ensure good luck, and transfer the sins of the people onto the
chosen scapegoat. Scapegoats might be animals, humans, divine
animals, or divine humans offered for sacrifice or driven away from
the village. Frazer also tells of the Jalno, a temporary ruler who took
the place of the Grand Lama in Tibet, and the King of the Years, a
man chosen as scapegoat to take on the people's sins. The two
rolled dice to determine who would be expelled from the community,
but the game was rigged and this lot always fell to the King of the
Years. This man often died in exile before the year was out, and it
was considered a good omen.

4. On Scapegoats in General
Frazer reiterates the main points on expelling evils. First, it effected
"a total clearance of all the ills that have been infesting a people,"
and scapegoats served as the "vehicle" for expulsion. Second,
annual expulsions of evil often happened at specific seasons of the
year, such as the beginning or end of the rainy season or during
winter—times when increased illness and death revived the fear of
disease-causing demons. Third, such public expulsions of evil were
often accompanied by a period of debauchery, lawlessness, or
general license during which people, it seems, partied the evils out
of their systems. Fourth, a divine man or animal often served as a
scapegoat to "carry away the sins and sorrows of the people."
Frazer compares this with the killing of the divine king, a spirit or
deity of vegetation (noted earlier in the text). He surmises these
scapegoat ceremonies might have been conveniently merged with
previously existing customs that surrounded the dying and reviving
god. The divine man, or a likeness, was killed annually to renew his
vigor and save the god from "the degeneracy of old age," and Frazer
believes some communities took the opportunity to cast away their
sins upon this divine man at the same time.
Chapter 58: Human Scapegoats in Classical Antiquity
Chapter 58 has three sections, describing customs of using human
scapegoats in the ancient societies of Rome and Greece.

1. The Human Scapegoat in Ancient Rome

An annual custom involved expelling a man dressed as the god
Mars from the city in his guise as Mamurius Veturius, "the old Mars."
Frazer suggests because Mars was originally a deity of vegetation,
this expulsion represented the changing of the season into spring,
when new vegetation would again spring forth from the earth. The
author further guesses this figure might also have been a scapegoat
for the city's ills, because he was driven out of the town. While
others have suggested the Mars figure might represent "the old
year," Frazer disputes this, stating, "The personification of a period
of time is too abstract an idea to be primitive."

2. The Human Scapegoat in Ancient Greece

Various figures were beaten and expelled from Greek cities and
colonies as scapegoats to take on plagues, evils, and calamities.
For example, each year in Athens a man and a woman wearing
strings of figs were first beaten on the genital organs with fig
branches and then stoned to death. Fig branches were believed to
have "a magical power of averting evil," so beating the scapegoats
was probably meant to purify them and drive out evil. Frazer
suggests the beating of the genital organs specifically was meant to
release or purify their reproductive powers. Furthermore, the man
and woman may have worn figs as imitative magic, to help the
region's fig trees flourish and reproduce. Thus, Frazer presents this
couple as possible representatives of vegetation, taking part in a
sacred marriage to ensure the fertility of the land.

3. The Roman Saturnalia

Here, Frazer hopes to support his original theory of the priest at
Nemi by showing that "the custom of putting to death a human
representative of a god was known and practiced in ancient Italy"
beyond the Arician grove. He offers this proof in the festival of
Saturnalia, a yearly week of feasts, merrymaking, and pleasure in
honor of Saturn, "the god of the sown and sprouting seed." Slaves
and masters traded roles, and a mock king was crowned who
reigned over the wild festivities. Frazer suggests the festival was
meant to revive the Golden Age of Saturn, and the mock king may
have represented Saturn himself. Sometimes this mock king was
then killed—or he cut his own throat—"on the altar of the god whom
he personated." Frazer interprets this custom as a reenactment of
"the good god who gave his life for the world," which would correlate
well to the character of the King of the Wood at Nemi. The author
further theorizes the carnival figure in places such as Spain and
France—influenced by the Roman Empire—were the descendants
of this King of the Saturnalia.

Analysis
Many of the customs described in Chapter 57 are similar to customs
detailed earlier in the text. For example, the custom of passing on
demons to a neighboring town parallels passing on a representation
of the corn-spirit to neighboring farms at harvest time. The use of
branches to transfer sickness out of people is an example of
contagious magic, with the illness transferring into the branches.
The subject of a temporary ruler, such as the Jalno of Tibet, is
similar to the temporary kings described previously who were
sacrificed in the place of the actual king. James George Frazer's
comments on the possible relationship between public scapegoats
and the dying and reviving god are pure conjecture, but an
interesting theory nonetheless. Frazer gives a further example of
this as possible proof in the carrying out of death of the figure as
described in Chapter 28. The death figure was seen as a spirit of
vegetation, and thus his killing was celebrated as a renewal of the
land. However, the death figure was also feared, and Frazer
theorizes this might have been because it, too, was believed to carry
out the community's ills and sins at the same time.
In Chapter 58, after a long and winding path across the world of
anthropological anecdotes, Frazer begins to zero in once again on
his original query of the King of the Wood in Aricia, trying to find
proofs closer to home. In his eagerness to find local proof of similar
customs, though, Frazer makes myriad assumptions and
conjectures with little or no concrete proof behind them. The chapter
is littered with "ifs" and "probablys," and this type of unsubstantiated
guesswork earned him criticism from later anthropologists. For
example, there is no proof the figure of Mars served as a scapegoat
in ancient Rome. Some would say Frazer is "spinning"
circumstantial evidence to fit his personal theories rather than
developing theories based on concrete evidence.
Summary

Chapter 59: Killing the God in Mexico

In Chapter 59 James George Frazer relates the Aztec custom of
"sacrificing the human representative of a god" in annual rituals.
This was sometimes a captive, but other times a young man was
chosen for his "personal beauty" and perfection of body. Each man
was given "the name of the idol" and treated as a god incarnate,
adored by the masses, and he feasted and made merry for some
time; "only he was accompanied with ten or twelve men lest he
should fly." At the appointed time, the man would be sacrificed and
sometimes eaten. Women, too, could be sacrificed. Each year a
young girl personified the Maize Goddess and was sacrificed on a
pile of corn and vegetables, her blood serving to "quicken and
strengthen the crops" with "the blood of the Corn Goddess herself."
A priest would then wear her bloody skin and robes to "ensure that
the divine death should be immediately followed by the divine
resurrection." In each case, Frazer regards the ritual as a means of
continuing the youthful vigor of the deity, "untainted by the weakness
and frailty of age."

Chapter 60: Between Heaven and Earth

In the four sections of Chapter 60, Frazer opens discussion of the
Golden Bough and how it relates to the taboos observed by royalty
and girls at puberty.

1. Not to touch the Earth

According to certain customs of taboo, royalty "may not touch the
ground." Instead, they rode or were carried from place to place, or
walked over mats, carpets, or other ground coverings. This same
taboo, while a permanent prohibition for some, was also observed
temporarily at times by others, such as priestesses performing rites.
Frazer surmises the person's "holiness" or "magical virtue" was
conceived as "a physical substance or fluid" that could be
"discharged or drained away by contact with the earth." Thus, the
holy person must be "insulated" from contact with the bare ground.

2. Not to see the Sun

Royal or holy people were prohibited from looking upon the sun or
having the sun shine upon them. Some royal children were even
confined for years so they might not see the sun, for if they did, they
"forfeited their lordship."

3. The Seclusion of Girls at Puberty

Young girls at the onset of puberty were sometimes forbidden to set
foot on the ground, to see the sun, or both. Such girls might be
confined to a dark hut reserved for their seclusion, in private rooms
within the home, or even in small cages. Seclusion might last for a
few days or even for several years, during which other taboos were
also observed. The girls might not eat specific foods, receive visits
by men (or indeed, anyone), or feed themselves, among other
prohibitions. The girls might be considered unclean or unlucky, or
thought to possess "supernatural power," threatening evil to the
tribe.

4. Reasons for the Seclusion of Girls at Puberty

The overriding reason girls were secluded at puberty was the
"deeply ingrained dread which primitive man universally entertains of
menstruous blood." Some tribes imagined that contact with
menstrual blood or menstruating females could cause young men to
grow old prematurely, rivers and wells to dry up, and crops to fail.
Even the Talmud, a central text of Judaism, states, "If a woman at
the beginning of her period passes between two men, she thereby
kills one of them." Such women were particularly forbidden from any
contact with a hunter's weapons or even from walking where they
might hunt or fish, lest she might ruin the hunt. Among European
superstitions were the notions that menstruating women turned wine
to vinegar, caused beer to sour, killed seedlings and gardens, and
drove bees away, among many other domestic calamities.
Secluding these women was meant to "neutralize the dangerous
influences" they exuded during menstruation. Frazer reiterates the
idea of the women being "insulated" was both for her own safety and
for the safety of others. He also notes how the rules against
touching the ground or seeing the sun effectively kept a secluded
girl "suspended ... between heaven and earth." She is "shut off from
both the earth and from the sun," and thus cannot harm either of
these "great sources of life." Frazer concludes the chapter by
comparing these girls to secluded kings or priests, all of whom are
kept apart to contain the "mysterious energy" flowing through them.

Chapter 61: The Myth of Balder

Chapter 61 narrates the story of Balder, son of Odin, the primary
Norse god. This wise and beautiful deity, much beloved by the
immortals, dreamed Balder might die. So, the immortals tried to
safeguard him from all dangers, causing all things on earth to swear
they would not harm him. Only the mistletoe was overlooked from
this vow. The mischievous Loki, jealous of Balder, tricked the god
Hother into shooting a sprig of mistletoe at Balder, thus killing him.
His body was burned on his ship, amid great sorrow. Frazer believes
this story became the basis for a yearly ritual or magical ceremony
throughout Europe, which the author proposes to show in the
following chapters.

Analysis
Chapter 59 further supports James George Frazer's theory that the
divine King of the Wood at Nemi was sacrificed yearly as a spirit of
vegetation. In gathering together similar stories worldwide, the
author tries to establish the general custom as a rule to carry over to
the priest at Aricia. He then begins discussion of the Golden Bough
in Chapter 60, seeking to establish a sort of "safe zone" in which
people under taboos might exist "between heaven and earth."
Especially for a royal king or priest, he was thought to be best
safeguarded—and to save others from harm—if he were
"suspended between the two," neither touching the ground nor
seeing the sun. While both royalty and menstruating girls were seen
as powerful, the reasons for secluding them were somewhat
different. Both were seen as potentially harmful to the people around
them because of the supernatural energy flowing within them, but in
the case of royalty, it was also feared this power could dissipate if
the taboos were not observed, rendering the royal person
powerless. Chapter 61 only briefly relates the myth of Balder as a
teaser of sorts, laying the groundwork for further proofs Frazer
wishes to show surrounding the myth of the King of the Wood at
Nemi. He offers the reader just enough information to start
connecting the dots, but not quite enough to see the whole picture
just yet. He does, however, state Balder is such a deity that exists
"neither in heaven nor on earth but between the two," a significant
statement foreshadowing what will follow later in the text.

Summary
Chapter 62: The Fire-Festivals of Europe
Chapter 62 has eight sections that relate annual fire festivals held
throughout Europe at specific times of the year.
1. The Fire-festivals in general
Frazer believes fire festivals originated long before the spread of
Christianity. People would often "dance round or leap over" the fires.
Effigies might be burned in the flames, or a living person might
pretend to be burned up. Actual human sacrifices may have
happened in ancient times. Most bonfires were kindled in spring or
summer, but they also took place in autumn and winter, and on
holidays such as Halloween and Christmas.
2. The Lenten Fires
Bonfires in spring were usually held on the first Sunday of Lent.
Sometimes a straw man, an effigy, or a pole called "the witch" was
burned in the fire. The fires were meant to ensure plentiful crops, a
happy marriage, and good health. Children might race among the
orchards with lighted torches, calling out to the trees to bear fruit.
Livestock was sometimes driven through the smoke and flames as a
form of purification, to safeguard them from disease and witchcraft.
Fires were lit in villages and at farms everywhere, "on the heights
and in the plains." Flaming wheels of straw might also be rolled
down hills at night, which was sometime called "burning the witch."
Flaming discs resembling the sun or stars were launched into the
air. Frazer then recaps the custom of "carrying out death," which
happened at the same time of year in many place; he theorizes it
may have been a charm to ensure crop growth.

3. The Easter Fires

Fires were kindled in Catholic countries on Easter Eve. The lights in
churches would be put out and then rekindled using a special Easter
candle. A bonfire might be lit, and people would char sticks in it and
take them home to light the fire in their own hearth. This "new fire"
was thought to protect the home against fire and severe weather.
The charred sticks might also be placed in the fields to protect them
from disease, pests, witches, and hail. Sometimes "a wooden figure
called Judas" was burned in the bonfire. Bonfires were also lit atop
hills, sometimes called "Easter Mountain"; as far as the light shone,
the fields would be fertile. Frazer recognizes the nature of these fires
as essentially pagan based on the celebrations and the
"superstitious beliefs" surrounding them.

4. The Beltane Fires

The Beltane Fires were lit on the hills of Scotland and elsewhere
around the first of May. A large "need-fire"—or fire built in a time of
need—was kindled to ward off witchcraft and disease, after which
there would be feasting, song, and dance. A "Beltane cake" was
divided and eaten, and whomever received a specially designated
piece—sometimes called the "carline" (Old Woman)—was jokingly
punished in various ways. He might be seized and mock thrown into
the fire, a custom Frazer surmises descended from actual human
sacrifices. People might also leap over the bonfires, which
"protected the lands from sorcery" and was believed to guarantee a
good harvest.

5. The Midsummer Fires

The most common fire festivals occurred around the summer
solstice and were similar in nature to the springtime fires. These
generally featured bonfires, torchlit processions, or a rolling wheel
set afire. The fires were believed to drive off witches, trolls, evil
spirits, and even the devil. Young men and women would leap over
the fires holding hands to encourage the crops to grow, and cattle
were driven through the smoke or fire to ward off illness. In Norway
the bonfires were sometimes called Balder's Balefires. In Austria an
effigy of Martin Luther was burned. Numerous additional midsummer
customs are related, from France to Greece to Morocco.
6. The Hallowe'en Fires
The Halloween fires were lit at the end of October just before All
Saints' Day. Frazer notes that this date did not coincide with
astrological occurrences—solstices and equinoxes—nor with
planting or harvest time. Instead, it was likely important to
herdsman, as it signaled the "approach of winter," a time when the
herds would be driven back to shelter from the open fields. He
conjectures early people divided the year with two important
markers, the beginning of summer and the beginning of winter, and
these corresponded to May Day and Halloween celebrations, which
were similar in nature. Halloween marked the New Year for the
Celts; it was met with newly kindled fires, divination for the year to
come, the honoring of the dead, and—supposedly—the flight of
witches, fairies, and hobgoblins. Large bonfires were lit atop hills,
and stones might be cast into the fire so people could use them to
read omens the next morning.

7. The Midwinter Fires

Other fire festivals were held around the winter solstice, the shortest
day of the year. Frazer states that the custom has survived into
modern times in the form of the Yule log, kindled in homes because
of the disagreeable weather. Thus, the midwinter celebrations were
more domestic and family oriented rather than public or communal.
The Yule log might be slowly burned all year long, or it might only be
charred at midwinter and then reserved for other uses throughout
the year. Many Yule logs were made of oak, which Frazer
associates with the god of thunder, to whom the oak was sacred.
Thus, the log was thought to protect the home from fire, lightning,
and thunder. Its ashes could "save the wheat from mildew" and
ensure fertility to the crops, among other magical effects.

8. The Need-fire
Fires also were built as needed during times of "distress and
calamity," especially disease. All other fires would be extinguished,
and the need-fire would be kindled by "the friction of two pieces of
wood," usually oak. Sick animals were driven through the smoke or
fire, and live coals would be taken home to restoke the family fire.

Analysis
James George Frazer makes several references throughout Chapter
62 to Christianity, and how Christian rites and customs became
associated with or even overtook the pagan celebrations of fire
festivals. Thus, the midsummer fires become associated with St.
John's Eve and the Halloween fires with the All Saints' or All
Hallows' Day. The author believes such celebrations had their
origins long before Christianity took hold in Europe, however. As
proof he notes Christians tried to exterminate the custom of fire
festivals in the eighth century. Moreover, while the Lenten fires were
clearly associated with the Christian period of Lent, its customs
closely resembled earlier pagan fire festivals, making it likely the
Lenten fires evolved from previously existing traditions. The straw
effigy burned at many fire festivals, which may have originally
represented a vegetative deity, became an effigy of Judas (the
betrayer of Christ) or even Martin Luther (a monk much despised by
the Catholic Church for his role in popularizing Protestantism).
Two important and related elements of the chapter are magic and
witchcraft. The festival fires were believed to have magical
properties, conferring both protection and prosperity to the people,
the village, the fields, and livestock. A fire's magical properties might
exist in its smoke, ashes, embers, or the flames itself, which were
believed to purify or destroy, driving away the evil influences of
everything from witches to weevils. Objects such as the flaming
discs hurled into the air were magical sun charms, their flames
enticing the sun to shine with a similar light and heat—an instance of
imitative magic.

Summary

Chapter 63: The Interpretation of the Fire-Festivals

James George Frazer offers insights on fire festivals in three
sections.
1. On the Fire-festivals in general
The various fire festivals had a number of common features.
Features such as the bonfires, procession of torches, and fire-
leaping were shared by most of the festivals. Only the Yule log
differs significantly from the other fires, because of its domestic
kindling indoors. The fire festivals also have similar aims: to ensure
the fertility of the crops, the health of both the people and their
livestock, and prevent ills such as disease, dangerous weather,
infestations, and witchcraft. Frazer offers two competing theories of
magic through which these benefits might be conferred—the solar
theory and the purification theory—and explores these in the
remainder of the chapter.

2. The Solar Theory of the Fire-festivals

The sun was seen as a positive, creative force, bringing forth life
through its light and heat. By kindling fires, people used imitative
magic to kindle the energy of the sun and stimulate the growth of
crops people depended on for sustenance. Frazer notes that two of
the most prominent festivals occurred at the summer and winter
solstices, times directly related to the course of the sun. Other
customs suggesting "a conscious imitation of the sun" were the
flaming wheels rolled down hills and the burning discs launched into
the air. In some cases people produced the festival fires using a
great wheel to create friction; Frazer conjectures this wheel may
have represented the sun. Because the fires were also thought to
influence "the weather and vegetation," Frazer suggests they were
sun charms kindled to drive away excessive rain or lightning, and
the heat of the fire was meant to imitate the heat of the sun, "acting
like sunshine on the corn." Similarly, the fires and smoke were
thought to promote fertility and health for livestock, and even
humans. Barren couples might jump over the fire in hopes of
conceiving, just as driving the cattle through the smoke was believed
to make them fertile. Blazing torches carried throughout the
orchards or fields were thought to have the same effect, while at the
same time driving away vermin.

3. The Purification Theory of the Fire-festivals

The fires were thought to burn away or drive out malignant
influences, from disease to witchcraft. So, the fire would be a
purifying force rather than a creative or generative one. As Frazer
notes, fire is a "destructive agent," and the use of fire against
witchcraft in particular backs up this theory. Because effigies or
other representations of witches were so often burned in the fires, it
is impossible to dismiss the purification theory as a strong
explanation of the fire-festival customs. Witches were believed to
harm livestock and steal milk from cows, so the fires were meant to
drive witches away and save the animals from harm. Frazer
suggests the fire festivals may have evolved for this purpose from
the need-fire, which would have been kindled when disease struck
the herds. The flaming wheels and burning discs may also have
been intended to drive off witches or evil spirits lingering in the
fields. By clearing away these malignant influences, the fields and
animals could freely multiply and prosper.

Chapter 64: The Burning of Human Beings in the Fires

Chapter 64 has two sections relating the custom of burning humans
—in in person or by effigy—and animals on the festival fires.

1. The Burning of Effigies in the Fires

Many effigies were burned as representatives of witches. In fact, the
effigies were often called "the Witch" or some similar term. By
destroying the effigies, people hoped to destroy real witches nearby
—another example of imitative magic. But sometimes the effigies
may have represented the spirit of vegetation. Just as burning the
effigies of the figure of death were meant to promote fertile crops,
the festival fires were similarly thought to ensure fertility in plants,
animals, and even humans. Sticks or ashes from the festival fires
were spread on the fields to promote growth as well. If the effigies
were representations of vegetation, Frazer says, exposing them to
the light and heat of the fire would, by imitative magic, secure light
and heat from the sun for the crops to grow.

2. The Burning of Men and Animals in the Fires

Some customs suggest human sacrifice may have once happened
during the fire festivals. For example, at several festivals, people
pretended to throw a person into the fire. More convincing proof,
though, comes from Julius Caesar's descriptions of human sacrifice
as practiced by the Celts. Caesar's notes indicate that condemned
criminals or war captives were sacrificed to the Beltane fire to
ensure fertile crops. "Live men, cattle, and animals of other kinds"
would be enclosed in huge wicker effigies and then burned alive,
likely as "representatives of the tree-spirit or spirit of vegetation."
Similar wicker "giants" were burned at spring and midsummer
festivals throughout Europe, sometimes with live animals such as
snakes or cats inside. Frazer conjectures that the humans sacrificed
may have been "condemned to death on the ground that they were
witches or wizards." Because witches were believed to be able to
transform into animals (especially cats), the sacrificed animals may
also have been thought of as bewitched. A counterpoint to this
theory is the idea that people or animals may have represented the
corn-spirit and thus were sacrificed to impart fertility to the land,
though Frazer finds this unlikely.

Chapter 65: Balder and the Mistletoe

Frazer now endeavors to show how various customs already
discussed illuminate the myth of Balder, first detailed in Chapter 61.
He begins with the mistletoe, which was sacred to the druids,
especially when found on an oak tree. A "supernatural" plant "sent
from heaven," mistletoe was believed to be an antidote to all
poisons, to cure barrenness, epilepsy, ulcers, and virtually every
disease imaginable. The mistletoe was harvested with great care at
special times of the year, especially midsummer. It was cut with a
golden knife—never iron—and was "not allowed to touch the earth,"
but would be harvested into a white cloth instead. As a parasitic
plant, it grew "without having roots in the earth," and its evergreen
nature was seen as an indicator of immortality. Some believed the
plant would protect from fire, especially fire caused by lightning, and
it was believed to ward off witchcraft and induce prophetic dreams
as well.
Frazer notes that in Scandinavia people gathered the mistletoe
during a midsummer festival, which may have been the season of
Balder's mythical death. Moreover, the fires lit at such times were
called Balder's balefires, which Frazer equates to the mythical
burning of Balder's body on a funeral pyre. The author theorizes the
Balder myth became the basis of the fire festivals in general, and
effigies or people who were sacrificed in the fire "did so in the
character of tree-spirits or deities of vegetation." He speculates
Balder himself must have been such a spirit or deity, perhaps even
the personification of the oak tree, the most sacred tree throughout
the tribes of Europe. Oak was used to kindle the need-fires and to
keep perpetual fires burning in various temples, and it may also
have fed the festival fires. The author concludes that if Balder, an
oak-spirit, could only be harmed by mistletoe, his immortality was
dependent on the plant. Mistletoe may have been "the seat of life of
the oak," so to kill the god—in other words, burn the sacred tree—
the mistletoe first had to be removed from the oak. In a manner,
Balder's life force was contained outside his body, within the
mistletoe itself.

Analysis
In Chapter 63 James George Frazer considers two competing
theories, both of which have merit in his view. In the end, he seems
to prefer the purification theory over the solar theory, due in part to
the prominent scholars who supported the idea of festival fires rather
than sun charms as purifying. Without concrete evidence to make a
final determination, Frazer instead lays out the reasons for and
against each theory and leaves it to the reader to draw their own
conclusion. Imitative magic is again an important concept in the
section on the solar theory, because the fires may have been sun
charms meant to foster abundant sunlight or to clear away inclement
weather. Furthermore, the occurrence of festivals at the solstices
supports this notion. Midwinter festivals may have encouraged the
sun to return to earth, strengthening the feeble winter light with
strong light and heat from the bonfires. Midsummer fires, held as the
longest days of the year began to shorten, may have been intended
to prolong the sun's reign over the crops.
The meaning behind the effigies discussed in Section 1 of Chapter
64 is not clearly determined. It is possible, though, that the effigies
changed in meaning over time. Just as sacred animals such as bulls
or pigs came to be identified with anthropomorphic deities
like Dionysus and Demeter, so the effigies may have evolved over
time. They may have started as simple representations of the corn-
spirit, but this identity may have been forgotten. The effigies may
have taken on individual characters, becoming, for example, Judas
or a witch. Whether the effigies represented spirits of vegetation or
witches, though, one intended effect of burning them was the same
in the mind of early man: to increase the fertility of the land. In the
former case, burning a corn-spirit effigy was clearly meant to bring
new life to the fields. In the latter case, burning a witch effigy was
thought to remove the witch's evil influence on the land, thus
enabling crops to better grow and livestock to flourish.
Chapter 65 brings together the information on mistletoe, fire
festivals, and the myth of Balder to create one coherent thesis:
Balder represented the spirit of vegetation—as a personified oak
tree—with his immortality dependent on the mistletoe that clung to
the heights of the oak tree; the reenactment of his funeral pyre was
observed in the bonfires of the fire festivals. Frazer believes this
myth forms the underlying basis of the fire festivals across Europe
and notes similar beliefs about the oak and mistletoe in Italy, where
the King of the Wood reigned. The idea of the evergreen mistletoe
as ensuring immortality explains why people believed it could cure
all diseases. Moreover, its nature as a parasitic plant living high in
the air touches on the idea of existing "between heaven and earth."
It has no roots in the ground, yet it is not quite of the sky, either—it
exists in an in-between place, a place of magical possibility.

Summary

Chapter 66: The External Soul in Folk-Tales

James George Frazer revisits the idea the soul may exist outside
the body and "still continue to animate him by virtue of a sort of
sympathy or action at a distance." Still, there is danger the soul may
be harmed, which would harm the person as well. Despite this
danger some early peoples may have believed it was safer to have
the soul live outside the body, particularly if the body were regularly
in peril of death (during times of warfare, for example). As long as
the soul was safe, a man's body could not be killed, "since his life is
not in it." The author says folktales "are a faithful reflection of the
world as it appeared to the primitive mind," and the practices and
beliefs of early peoples prove this. Frazer then relates various
folktales incorporating this premise of the external soul. In these
tales a creature—a giant, genie, witch, or similar being—believes he
is "invulnerable and immortal because he keeps his soul hidden far
away in some secret place." This creature is inevitably tricked, often
by a beautiful princess or queen, into revealing the soul's hiding
place. A hero then destroys the creature's soul, thus killing the
creature as well. The creature's soul was generally hidden within
successive layers of protection. For example, it might be inside an
egg inside a duck; the duck is inside a hare; the hare is in a basket;
the basket is in a chest buried under a tree on an island in the
middle of the ocean. The soul was often stored in a bird or egg, and
when the hero killed the bird or crushed the egg, the creature would
die.

Chapter 67: The External Soul in Folk-Custom

The four sections of Chapter 67 discuss customs related to the
concept of the external soul.

1. The External Soul in Inanimate Things

Some cultures housed the soul in inanimate objects as a form of
protection. For example, a newborn's soul might be sent into a
coconut shell, which was then suspended from the home's roof for
safekeeping until the child grew older and stronger. Amulets or
jewelry might safeguard a person's soul, which would then be worn
and closely guarded or kept in the pouch of a medicine man. Souls
could be stored in trees, stones, horns, or architectural features
(such as columns) as well. People commonly believed the soul
resided in the hair, so if the hair was cut off, people would lose their
soul. This was especially believed of witches and wizards, whose
bodies might be entirely shaved when they were put to trial.
Accused witches often denied all charges until their heads were
shaven, after which their spirit was broken and they confessed to the
crimes charged against them.

2. The External Soul in Plants

Certain tribes were convinced the soul was "bound up with the life of
a plant," and that the plant's death would surely result in the
person's demise. Various tribes would plant a tree upon the birth of
a child, and as the tree grew or withered, so would the child thrive or
take ill. Fruit trees in particular were preferred for this, and the trees
were tended with great care. Sometimes trees were used as
curatives for children with "rupture or rickets." A tree would be partly
split open and the child would be passed through the cleft. After this,
it was believed that "a sympathetic connection" existed between the
child and the tree. The tree was patched up with mud or clay, and if
the tree healed, so would the child. If the tree died, "the death of the
child would surely follow."

3. The External Soul in Animals

Frazer relates various beliefs about the soul residing in animals.
Invariably, if the animal was harmed or killed, it was thought the
connected person would suffer illness or death. Some cultures
believed that witches or wizards in particular could house their soul
in an animal, which became the witch's "familiar." The witch could
then command the animal to do their bidding, such as by harming an
enemy. In some cultures men shared one totem, while women
shared another, and each sex would protect and defend the animal
in question. Frazer differentiates between people whose soul
resided in an individual animal (one animal out of the whole species)
and those whose soul resided within a species of animal, but the
individual beast housing the soul was unknown. In the former case,
the person would protect a single animal and felt free to kill others of
the species. In the latter case, the person would protect all animals
of the species, not knowing which animal guarded his life. Clans or
tribes could also have associated animals with which their lives were
entwined. Furthermore, many cultures believed a person had
multiple souls existing in multiple animals. Some animals were
considered a person's "totem"; the person considered these animals
brothers and refused to kill or eat them. Such totems or soul animals
were often kept secret, understandably, because the person's life
was connected to the animal. Frazer believes these customs are
reflected in the fairy tales related in Chapter 66. Many of the villains
of the fairy tales stored their souls within an animal, and when the
animal died, so did the villain.

4. The Ritual of Death and Resurrection

Some tribes had initiatory rites in which totemism prevailed. A young
man would be mock killed and then brought back to life, which
Frazer sees as a method of "extracting the youth's soul to transfer it
to his totem." Thus, there was "an exchange of life or souls between
the man and his totem," after which the boy called himself by the
name of the totem and considered himself to be the animal. Such
ceremonies often involved the initiates being "eaten" by a monster,
which would then disgorge them, reborn. They might also involve
dramatic enactments of the dead coming to life, and the boys were
often circumcised as a rite of passage. They might also be secluded
for up to a year in a shed in the forest, after which they were
reintroduced to the tribe. In some clans or secret societies the boys
were initiated by animals representing totems. After such a
ceremony the boy's life would be permanently linked to the animal.
Frazer surmises this animal might be a repository for the boy's soul.
Analysis
In Chapter 66 James George Frazer explains how the action of
sympathetic magic makes the external soul possible; objects at a
distance can still affect one another. Thus, the external soul could
still animate the person to whom it belonged. Frazer says folktales
are "a faithful reflection" of primitive man's mind, however, which
seems rather presumptuous. Whatever potential evidence presents
itself in the form of folktales or customs, the author cannot truly
know the inner workings of another person's mind, let alone the
many minds of early peoples. Here again, he shows a bit of colonial
condescension—the belief modern humans are so much more
advanced than early peoples and thus it is easy to understand the
motives and thoughts of early peoples. It is unclear whether Frazer
thinks early humans literally believed a soul might be stored, for
example, inside an egg inside a duck inside a hare, et cetera. If the
author views such folktales as true reflections of early man's beliefs,
then the stories must have been literal by his own logic.
Chapter 67's concept of the external soul housed in more than one
object or animal lives on in literature today. In the stories of J.K.
Rowling's Harry Potter series, the villain Voldemort stores his soul in
several separate objects or living beings, known as horcruxes. To
vanquish the villain, the main characters must hunt down and
destroy each of these pieces of his soul.

Summary

Chapter 68: The Golden Bough

Chapter 68 brings the reader to the main subject of the book, the
legend behind the Golden Bough and its relation to the King of the
Wood at Nemi. James George Frazer proposes that the Golden
Bough is mistletoe, the plant that contained Balder's life force and
ended his life. Like royalty who could neither touch the ground nor
see the sun, the mistletoe hung "between heaven and earth" high
upon the oak tree. The author compares this to the King of the
Wood at Nemi, who was possibly a personification of the oak. If so,
it was "therefore, easy to understand why, before he could be slain,
it was necessary to break the Golden Bough." If the priest's life was
contained in the mistletoe, as it was for Balder, only by breaking off
the bough could he be defeated. Frazer also states the bough was
considered "golden" because when dried, it turned a "rich golden
yellow." Furthermore, mistletoe may have been associated with the
glowing fire of the sun, because it was mostly harvested on the
solstices—dates associated with the sun. If the mistletoe did indeed
contain some property of light and fire, this would explain why in
Virgil's epic poem, Aeneas took the Golden Bough with him to the
underworld—to combat the gloom and darkness there.
Finally, Frazer proposes a link between the King of the Wood at
Nemi and the sun through the oak tree. Oak wood was used to
kindle the fires at Nemi, and it was believed the property of fire lived
within the wood the same as the tree's sap. Fire must be extracted
by rubbing two pieces of wood together. Some believed the
mistletoe appeared on oak trees in flashes of lightning, which were
thought to be the god Jupiter visiting his favored tree on earth. Thus,
in harvesting the sacred mistletoe people believed they were
"securing for themselves all the magical properties of a thunderbolt."
Frazer concludes people probably first worshipped the sky-god and
later associated him with the oak tree because lightning struck the
oak so frequently. Taking these facts into account, the author
suggests the "twig of mistletoe" that killed Balder was instead a flash
of lightning. Moreover, he views the King of the Wood as a
representative of Jupiter, whose soul dwelled within the Golden
Bough of mistletoe in the sacred grove. For this reason, the priest
protected the tree and its mistletoe with his life.

Chapter 69: Farewell to Nemi

Frazer concludes his investigation with the statement, "If we have
answered one question, we have raised many more." He declares
the evolution of thought most likely evolved from belief in magic to
belief in religion, and from there to faith in science as the pinnacle of
human thought. Magic and science, the author reminds the reader,
are both based on the idea there is order in nature, and natural
phenomena can be predicted by observing orderly rules governing
the world. While magic is based on ideas formed in the mind,
science is based on "patient and exact observation of the
phenomena themselves." He declares that humankind's future is
tied to "the fortunes of science," but scientific understanding can
change as new information comes to light and new understandings
dawn. Even science, he believes, may at some point be replaced by
some more advanced line of thought currently unknown to man.
"The dreams of magic," he states, "may one day be the waking
realities of science." This we cannot predict; only time will tell how
the future course of humankind may unfold. He ends the book with a
mental journey to the land of Aricia as it exists today, church bells
tolling above the still-verdant forest where the rites of Nemi no
longer take place. And yet he declares, "Le roi est mort, vive le
roi!" The king is dead, long live the king!

Analysis
James George Frazer's incredibly thorough style of investigative
writing can, at times, be a challenge to wade through, but as he
draws the book to a conclusion, he weaves the disparate threads
together like many roots supporting a mammoth tree. He begins and
ends the book with the King of the Wood at Nemi and the Golden
Bough, and all the various anecdotes on the pages in between serve
to illuminate some aspect of this myth and mystery. His exploration
of customs and beliefs relating to the mistletoe, the oak, sun deities,
vegetative deities, and the motif of the dying and reviving god all
serve to support his key theory that the King of the Wood could,
indeed, have represented the sun god who was sacrificed yearly to
ensure fertility to the land and its people.
As always, Frazer leaves the door open for new theories or methods
that may advance human thought and understanding. While he
believes science provides the best hope for humankind's future, he
doesn't rule out the possibility some other disciple may arise to
further human understanding of life. His final echo of "long live the
king!" underscores the book's emphasis on not only the King of the
Wood, but also humankind's own dying and reviving nature, in which
new theories arise from the ashes of the old.

The Oak Tree

According to James George Frazer, the oak tree was worshipped by
"all the branches of the Aryan stock in Europe," where oak trees
were plentiful and tree worship was common. Frazer notes, "To the
savage the world in general is animate, and trees and plants are no
exception to the rule. He thinks that they have souls like his own,
and he treats them accordingly." Thus, many trees or groves of trees
were considered sacred, with the oak being the most important tree
for many cultures. Oak trees were seen as protective and were
themselves guarded from harm.
Indeed, Diana's grove at Nemi was believed to be an oak grove, and
as "a goddess of the woodlands," then she, too, was connected with
the oak. The Italians also associated the oak tree with their highest
god, Jupiter, whose counterpart was Zeus. When a Roman king
costumed himself as Jupiter, he wore an oaken crown, which was
"regarded as the god's special emblem." By personifying Jupiter, the
kings became "the human representative of the oak-god," as
symbolized by the oak crown and other attributes.
Similarly, for the Greeks the oak tree was connected to the king of
the gods, Zeus, and his wife, Hera, in their roles as the oak-god and
oak-goddess. Frazer says, "In Arcadia, when the corn and trees
were parched with drought, the priest of Zeus dipped an oak branch
into a certain spring on Mount Lycaeus," and thereafter rain would
fall as a gift from the god. Lightning-struck oaks were thought to be
particularly powerful, because Jupiter/Zeus was a sky-god who
"wielded the thunder and lightning as well as the rain."

The Celtic Druids, too, venerated the oak as sacred. Their rites were
likely held in oak groves, and even their name may mean "oak-
men." Frazer relates "their old word for sanctuary seems to be
identical in origin and meaning with the Latin nemus, a grove or
woodland glade, which still survives in the name of Nemi." These
and many other cultures honored the oak tree as a symbol of the
gods.

The Golden Bough

In Virgil's The Aeneid, the Golden Bough was a mythical plant
Aeneas carried into the underworld for protection. Frazer proposes
this was the same plant involved in the succession of the King of the
Woodat Nemi. Each candidate to become the priest at Nemi had to
pluck a branch from a certain tree before he could challenge the
current priest in a fight to the death for the kingship of the grove.
Frazer further theorizes that this Golden Bough is mistletoe, which
grew from oak trees in particular; by logical deduction, the priest of
Nemi personified the oak-god Jupiter.
This theory also relates to the idea of the "external soul," or the
notion the soul can be housed outside of the body in a plant, animal,
or object. In Frazer's view, the Golden Bough was viewed as a
repository for the soul of the King of the Wood, the human
incarnation of the oak-god, Jupiter. Mistletoe appears to grow from
thin air, high up in trees. Moreover, mistletoe is evergreen—it does
not die, even in the depths of winter. Frazer suggests "primitive man
seeks to preserve the life of his human divinities by keeping them
poised between earth and heaven, as the place where they are least
likely to be assailed by the dangers that encompass the life of man
on earth"—in short, within the mistletoe, an undying plant
suspended between heaven and earth on a tree sacred to the god,
the oak. Frazer posits the life of the priest of Nemi was bound up
with the life of the oak and its mistletoe; thus, when the mistletoe
was plucked, he was vulnerable to being killed. By plucking the
mistletoe and killing the current priest, a candidate claimed the god's
soul, powers, and title for himself, and assumed the duty of
protecting the grove as its new priest.

In this way the Golden Bough serves as another symbol for the
divine, but in particular, the dying and reviving god. After all, the
King of the Wood must die for a new King of the Wood to take his
place. Frazer points to one myth in particular to establish this
connection: the myth of the Norse god Balder, son of Odin. Balder
was unable to be killed, vulnerable only to a single plant: mistletoe.
Loki, jealous of Balder's beauty, wisdom, and popularity, plucked the
mistletoe and used it to bring about Balder's death. Balder was
eventually resurrected and brought his bright cheerfulness to the
world once more. Frazer maintains that this myth "belongs to that
class of myths which have been dramatized as ritual, or, to put it
otherwise, which have been performed as magical ceremonies for
the sake of producing those natural effects which they describe in
figurative language." The main "natural effect" desired by such a
performance was the renewal and growth of vegetation each year.

animism: (n) the belief that spirits reside in nonliving objects,

particularly objects in nature, and in natural phenomena
anthropomorphize: (v) to assign human traits to nonhuman beings,
objects, or phenomena
archetype: (n) a character that serves as a universal model for a type
of person (the "healer" is an example of a basic archetype; specific
examples of healers include doctors, medicine men, and so on)
consort: (n) the spouse or companion of a deity or royal person
cultural anthropology: (n) the scientific study of human culture and
its development; cultural anthropologists study many aspects of a
culture, such as law, politics, religion, art, and language
deity: (n) a god or goddess
effigy: (n) a figure or image (often a doll or puppet) that looks like a
person or animal
grove: (n) a group of trees
incarnate: (adj) alive in a human body
personify: (v) to represent a concept in human form or as having
human qualities; some cultures personified death as a straw figure
they paraded through the village and then burned
propitiate: (v) to appease or try to please someone (often someone
who is angry); people in ancient times often made offerings to
propitiate the gods
shade: (n) a ghost or spirit, usually of a particular person
shrine: (n) a place or object dedicated to a religious figure (such as a
deity or saint) or to the dead
syncretism: (n) the merging of two or more different beliefs or
practices (often religious or cultural) into one; the ancient Romans
were well known for syncretism, absorbing many of the deities and
practices of the people they conquered, as were the Christians, who
adapted pagan rituals for their own purposes
taboo: (adj) forbidden; banned from use or contact
underworld: (n) in classical mythology, the underground land of the
dead