We
are the beginning and first nature of metals
Art by us maketh the chief tincture.
There is no fountain nor water like unto me.
I heal and help both rich and poor.
But yet I am full of hurtful poisons.
Art by us maketh the chief tincture.
There is no fountain nor water like unto me.
I heal and help both rich and poor.
But yet I am full of hurtful poisons.
What is alchemy doing in an interpretation of a simple girl’s story? After all alchemy is a realm filled with secrecy. And its language, filled with riddles, abstruse instructions and outlandish symbolism comes nowhere close to being simple. Experts offer no help in deciphering alchemy’s rich imagery as they cannot agree whether alchemy is an art or a science. And in a layperson’s eyes alchemy runs from the workings of charlatans fleecing the next unsuspecting traveler, to magicians offering
wonders and mysteries, to sages imparting their knowledge to those with eyes to
see and ears to hear.
Sage wisdom does occur in Dorothy’s story but it is not delivered by huckster, Professor Marvel. In fact thanks to the poor light the traveling fortuneteller casts on his profession, alchemy seems far removed from explaining Dorothy and mapping her journey. Yet in chronicling the Kansas girl’s journey into new lands, neither the book nor the 1939 movie focus on Dorothy in their titles. Nor does the magical land she visits get top billing. Instead, the title character is a wizard despite his secondary standing throughout the story.
Sage wisdom does occur in Dorothy’s story but it is not delivered by huckster, Professor Marvel. In fact thanks to the poor light the traveling fortuneteller casts on his profession, alchemy seems far removed from explaining Dorothy and mapping her journey. Yet in chronicling the Kansas girl’s journey into new lands, neither the book nor the 1939 movie focus on Dorothy in their titles. Nor does the magical land she visits get top billing. Instead, the title character is a wizard despite his secondary standing throughout the story.
Or is he secondary? One of the most notable lines in the
movie, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain” is delivered by the
exposed wizard. Indeed, all of Dorothy’s story seems to revolve around
the curtain. What is the relationship between Dorothy and this shape-shifting
wizard? What does the curtain represent?
In one wizard-producing art the workings behind the
curtain of form, of beliefs, of concepts – the very stuff of life, has
remained its main lesson for millenia. And in its secret teachings alchemists
learn to turn the most common of elements, physical as well as
metaphysical, into something valued and precious. What might result,
should an alchemist be successful in his quest, is the Philosopher Stone.
Indicative of many achievements, the Stone’s most notably known as the
achievement of immortality.
Alchemy and its goal of attaining the elusive Philosopher
Stone flowered in times of relative religious freedom found in 12th and 13th
century Christianity. Needing to do a disappearing act during the
centuries of the Inquisition, alchemy once again emerged during the Reformation
of 16th century Europe. The same doors that Luther tacked
his treatise upon now held depictions of woodcuts much like the ones found
in the arguably most-influential alchemy writing of the Renaissance, the
Rosarium Philosophorum.
The Rosarium's first woodcut (above) was not only tacked on posts and doorways in European cities but it was found in the first few pages of the alchemical text. The 16th century layperson probably could not read the Latin found in the text nor in the image of this first woodcut. But the woodcut’s captions were always printed in the vernacular be it German or French. The riddle facing the European townsperson took as much contemplation today as it did in the 16th century. Are there any clues found in that riddle-caption and woodcut to help decipher the map of our lives?
The Rosarium's first woodcut (above) was not only tacked on posts and doorways in European cities but it was found in the first few pages of the alchemical text. The 16th century layperson probably could not read the Latin found in the text nor in the image of this first woodcut. But the woodcut’s captions were always printed in the vernacular be it German or French. The riddle facing the European townsperson took as much contemplation today as it did in the 16th century. Are there any clues found in that riddle-caption and woodcut to help decipher the map of our lives?
The Rosarium woodcuts, like all alchemical imagery, are open
to multiple interpretations. Yet the Rosarium series with its 21 woodcuts
appears to tell a story. Story is important to concealing the process of
attaining the Philosopher’s Stone “from the unworthy.” The anonymous Rosarium
writers further state, “the Philosophers know that such matters ought to be
declared mystically, as poetry in the manner of a fable and parable.”[1]
Yet there are thousands of fables, parables and other
metaphor-filled fairy tales in the Western world alone. Do each of these tales
contain alchemical secrets pointing toward the evolution of our consciousness?
If not, how do we know which ones to pay close attention to? Such an
undertaking in deciphering may seem impossible. But the creators of the
celluloid version of The Wizard of Oz begin leaving a trail from the very first
frame - hints pointing to a secret path that could easily lead us out of
the confusing dark woods of life. And as one of Dorothy's best assistants once
counseled her, "It is always best to begin at the beginning."
In the beginning was the Word. Forty-eight words fill the title screen in
the opening of the 1939 movie, The Wizard of Oz. This study of the movie
revolves around finding meaning in anomalies, in repetitions and in names given
characters and places as well as obvious symbols. Wondering begins as
written words float across the screen. This was a ‘talkie’ film and writing on
the screen was no longer necessary as silent films died 10 years earlier. So
the question arises whether these seeming innocuous words hold a special
significance.
In its entirety the movie’s title page reads:
“For nearly forty years this story has given faithful service to the Young in Heart; and Time has been powerless to put its kindly philosophy out of fashion.
To those who have been faithful to it in return … and to the Young in Heart --- we dedicate this picture.”
Simple. Straightforward. Sit back and enjoy a good picture. Yet items jump off the screen demanding attention. In keeping with our investigation of anomalies, the capitalization of ‘Time’ and ‘Young in Heart’ begs the question ‘why’. Neither is a person nor place in need of capitalization. Yet the two appear linked in the context of the dedication. While ‘Time’ comes away like an enemy rendered powerless after battle, those Young in Heart appear as the victor and their spoils the dedication, as royal ladies gave scarves to victors in a joust. But where is the battle in this movie?
A battle against the limitations of time and the search for immortality are two hallmarks in the quests undertaken by European alchemists. Although many desired to know the secrets in achieving immortality, dedication needed to be proved. Stories abound of wizened alchemists taking those interested in learning their secrets through many paces before starting them as an acolyte. A novice to this discipline needed a personal teacher as most printed alchemical texts were collections of Latin gibberish. In fact, the Arabic root for “gibberish” comes from Geber, a famous Persian alchemist.
Rewards for dedication are also bestowed to followers of Dorothy’s story. The Young in Heart and their "faithful service" appear obvious beneficiaries of gifts found in 40 years of reading the series of Oz books penned by L. Frank Baum. But Baum steers clear of any occult secrets, clearly stating in the introduction of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that the book was written “solely to pleasure children of today”. However, the creators of the celluloid Dorothy appear to direct their story with a different aim.
The repetition of “faithful” in the movie’s title screen draws attention to one of the oddest notations found in cinematic history. The faithful would, at first glance, appear to be those who enjoy the tales of Dorothy and friends. But upon closer examination, it is the “kindly philosophy” that the faithful show dedication to. What is a philosophy doing in a children’s tale? There is no overt message of morality in the Oz stories, nor in the movie that follows. No treatises are put forth and proved. The closest we get to such a lesson is Dorothy’s final axiom, “There’s no place like home.” But an axiom is not the same as a philosophy.
Alchemical teachings placed great emphasis on never taking the familiar or commonplace for granted for in them can be found a treasure. Such is hinted in the caption of the Rosarium’s first woodcut. And so, with an alchemist’s inquisitive nature we investigate this first screen of the movie and we are struck by the description of its philosophy. In today's vernacular, the commonplace definition of “kindly” indicates a gracious or benevolent person. Yet an archaic definition of the same word points to a meaning quite different. In the times of European alchemy ‘kindly’ referred to “natural, native, innate” tendencies.” [2] An example of the arcane definition reads “innate ideas; in philosophy, ideas supposed to be inborn and to belong to the mind from birth, as the idea of God or of immortality.”
A philosophy steeped in immortality placed alchemy as heretical in the eyes of the Christian orthodox, no matter what century it would surface in Europe. And the religion of the 20th century, empirical science, held a similarly low opinion of alchemy and its quests. But one scientist, C.G.Jung, spent decades studying alchemical texts and imagery to validate his theories of achieving wholeness in the psyche. Although these theories appeared to oppose those promulgated by Sigmund Freud, Jung’s studies in alchemy constituted only part of the many contributions the great scientist and he remained second only to Freud in contributions to the infant-science of psychology.
In its entirety the movie’s title page reads:
“For nearly forty years this story has given faithful service to the Young in Heart; and Time has been powerless to put its kindly philosophy out of fashion.
To those who have been faithful to it in return … and to the Young in Heart --- we dedicate this picture.”
Simple. Straightforward. Sit back and enjoy a good picture. Yet items jump off the screen demanding attention. In keeping with our investigation of anomalies, the capitalization of ‘Time’ and ‘Young in Heart’ begs the question ‘why’. Neither is a person nor place in need of capitalization. Yet the two appear linked in the context of the dedication. While ‘Time’ comes away like an enemy rendered powerless after battle, those Young in Heart appear as the victor and their spoils the dedication, as royal ladies gave scarves to victors in a joust. But where is the battle in this movie?
A battle against the limitations of time and the search for immortality are two hallmarks in the quests undertaken by European alchemists. Although many desired to know the secrets in achieving immortality, dedication needed to be proved. Stories abound of wizened alchemists taking those interested in learning their secrets through many paces before starting them as an acolyte. A novice to this discipline needed a personal teacher as most printed alchemical texts were collections of Latin gibberish. In fact, the Arabic root for “gibberish” comes from Geber, a famous Persian alchemist.
Rewards for dedication are also bestowed to followers of Dorothy’s story. The Young in Heart and their "faithful service" appear obvious beneficiaries of gifts found in 40 years of reading the series of Oz books penned by L. Frank Baum. But Baum steers clear of any occult secrets, clearly stating in the introduction of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that the book was written “solely to pleasure children of today”. However, the creators of the celluloid Dorothy appear to direct their story with a different aim.
The repetition of “faithful” in the movie’s title screen draws attention to one of the oddest notations found in cinematic history. The faithful would, at first glance, appear to be those who enjoy the tales of Dorothy and friends. But upon closer examination, it is the “kindly philosophy” that the faithful show dedication to. What is a philosophy doing in a children’s tale? There is no overt message of morality in the Oz stories, nor in the movie that follows. No treatises are put forth and proved. The closest we get to such a lesson is Dorothy’s final axiom, “There’s no place like home.” But an axiom is not the same as a philosophy.
Alchemical teachings placed great emphasis on never taking the familiar or commonplace for granted for in them can be found a treasure. Such is hinted in the caption of the Rosarium’s first woodcut. And so, with an alchemist’s inquisitive nature we investigate this first screen of the movie and we are struck by the description of its philosophy. In today's vernacular, the commonplace definition of “kindly” indicates a gracious or benevolent person. Yet an archaic definition of the same word points to a meaning quite different. In the times of European alchemy ‘kindly’ referred to “natural, native, innate” tendencies.” [2] An example of the arcane definition reads “innate ideas; in philosophy, ideas supposed to be inborn and to belong to the mind from birth, as the idea of God or of immortality.”
A philosophy steeped in immortality placed alchemy as heretical in the eyes of the Christian orthodox, no matter what century it would surface in Europe. And the religion of the 20th century, empirical science, held a similarly low opinion of alchemy and its quests. But one scientist, C.G.Jung, spent decades studying alchemical texts and imagery to validate his theories of achieving wholeness in the psyche. Although these theories appeared to oppose those promulgated by Sigmund Freud, Jung’s studies in alchemy constituted only part of the many contributions the great scientist and he remained second only to Freud in contributions to the infant-science of psychology.
In the
early 1940’s Jung expounded his findings on alchemy and the development of the
psyche in a seminal work, Pschology of the Transference, drawing heavily
on interpretations of the woodcuts found in the 1550 Rosarium Philosophorum.
A later work, the 1955 Mysterium Conjunctionis, also relied on the
Rosarium images. Belief that “alchemy did not merely change into chemistry…
[but] had always been a kind of mystic philosophy” [3] Jung
gave great credence to this occult study focused on “the union of opposites.”
But such high opinions and strong leanings on alchemy brought scorn from
scientists in many fields.
Yet the psychologist still had a following of disciples. The
scientist who would edit The Portable Jung was an anthropologist looking
for links among the world’s cultures and religions. Although disagreeing with
Jung on what could best explain those links, Joseph Campbell continued a strong
admiration for Jung throughout the anthropologist’s long and influential
career.
In chronicling cultures and connecting imagery from around the world, Campbell sought to find similarities between the religions of the West and the East. Campbell noted similarities between Western mystics’ writings, often considered heretical in the eyes of the orthodoxy, and those found in Eastern teachings. His success lead to a large following of readers, disillusioned with the restrictive ways of their native Western religions. These disillusioned seekers often became devotees of more inclusive Hinduism and Buddhism – philosophies steeped in the innate idea of an imminent divinity. These teachings rang true for thousands of Westerners brought up in religions exhorting a transcendent God only, one to be found “out there” but never within. The 1960’s brought with it revolutionary thought and questioning of authoritarian teachings. If God is to be found everywhere, one of the major tenets of Western monotheist religions, then why could God not be found within us?
However, many Eastern as well as Western spiritual leaders recommend seekers stay close to their religious roots instead of adopting religious beliefs set in foreign cultures and language. But where could a Westerner, whose heart felt drawn toward the Eastern teachings of finding a divinity within, find teachings to follow in their monotheistic culture?
In chronicling cultures and connecting imagery from around the world, Campbell sought to find similarities between the religions of the West and the East. Campbell noted similarities between Western mystics’ writings, often considered heretical in the eyes of the orthodoxy, and those found in Eastern teachings. His success lead to a large following of readers, disillusioned with the restrictive ways of their native Western religions. These disillusioned seekers often became devotees of more inclusive Hinduism and Buddhism – philosophies steeped in the innate idea of an imminent divinity. These teachings rang true for thousands of Westerners brought up in religions exhorting a transcendent God only, one to be found “out there” but never within. The 1960’s brought with it revolutionary thought and questioning of authoritarian teachings. If God is to be found everywhere, one of the major tenets of Western monotheist religions, then why could God not be found within us?
However, many Eastern as well as Western spiritual leaders recommend seekers stay close to their religious roots instead of adopting religious beliefs set in foreign cultures and language. But where could a Westerner, whose heart felt drawn toward the Eastern teachings of finding a divinity within, find teachings to follow in their monotheistic culture?
Campbell answered this predicament indirectly as he wrote of
not only Western mystics but also Gnostic writings. Emerging translations from
the 1945 discovery, the Nag Hammadi writings gave credence to Campbell's claim
of connections found between East and West. Campbell also pointed to the
writings and imagery found in European alchemy[4]
as further proof.
The idea of finding the divine within the human became ever
stronger and seekers hunted for additional teaching. Aldous Huxley’s 1945 book
provided not only a summarization of teachings found in both mainstream Eastern
and esoteric schools of thought from the West but also provided a
soon-to-be-popular term denoting these teachings – perennial philosophy.
Huxley’s definition for the perennial philosophy is:
The metaphysic (sic) that recognizes a divine reality substantial to the world of
things, lives and minds; the psychology that finds in the soul something similar to, or even identical with, divine Reality; and the ethic that places man’s final end in the knowledge of the immanent and transcendent Ground of all being." [5]
The metaphysic (sic) that recognizes a divine reality substantial to the world of
things, lives and minds; the psychology that finds in the soul something similar to, or even identical with, divine Reality; and the ethic that places man’s final end in the knowledge of the immanent and transcendent Ground of all being." [5]
Huxley also stated humans possess both a phenomenal ego and
an eternal self. The goal of life, union with the Ground of all being, is
achieved through identification with the eternal self. While such teachings,
Huxley noted, were openly imparted in the East while similar teachings in the
West, i.e. ancient Egypt, Greek were squelched. The Nicene Council of the
5th century CE squelched the teachings of the Gnostics.
Yet perennial philosophy continued to be passed down through Europe despite its heretical standing. Alchemists kept the unitized philosophy as their own, cloaking it beneath elaborate symbolism guaranteed not to be deciphered by anyone but the initiated. This secret, non-dualistic philosophy produced notables such as Albertus Magnus, teacher to great theologian, Thomas Aquinas. A contemporary of Aquinas, Roger Bacon, was also a well-known alchemist as well as philosopher. Commenting on the need for more than the theoretical to guide our lives, Bacon wrote “[we] must have experience and not simply reason.”
Yet perennial philosophy continued to be passed down through Europe despite its heretical standing. Alchemists kept the unitized philosophy as their own, cloaking it beneath elaborate symbolism guaranteed not to be deciphered by anyone but the initiated. This secret, non-dualistic philosophy produced notables such as Albertus Magnus, teacher to great theologian, Thomas Aquinas. A contemporary of Aquinas, Roger Bacon, was also a well-known alchemist as well as philosopher. Commenting on the need for more than the theoretical to guide our lives, Bacon wrote “[we] must have experience and not simply reason.”
First-hand experience provided the groundwork for physical
alchemy. Present day sciences such as chemistry owe their beginnings to
alchemists’ thorough and exacting work. Yet alchemy had another aim beyond the
much-publicized goal of turning lead into gold. Alchemy’s philosophical goal of
discovering the divine within also came from first-hand experience. Cryptic
imagery and nearly indiscernible Latin hid the secret findings of these
experiences. Alchemy’s secrets contain many levels of interpretations,
philosophical as well as physical. One of today’s foremost authorities on
alchemy, Adam McLean, chooses to base his interpretation of the Rosarium
Philosophorum “using terms of a spiritual alchemy.” [6]
A similar base of spiritual alchemy interpretation will be used here to chart
the Rosarium woodcuts and how they relate to Dorothy’s journey.
In Dorothy’s episodic fable many clues point to attainment of the much-coveted Philosophers Stone. But the opening shot reveals little as Dorothy and her dog, Toto, look behind to a danger threatening the small animal as they stand in the middle of a dusty road. The use of road as symbol will become a recurring metaphor throughout Dorothy’s story.
In Dorothy’s episodic fable many clues point to attainment of the much-coveted Philosophers Stone. But the opening shot reveals little as Dorothy and her dog, Toto, look behind to a danger threatening the small animal as they stand in the middle of a dusty road. The use of road as symbol will become a recurring metaphor throughout Dorothy’s story.
Dorothy is a poor girl as her satchel and clothing would
indicate. The 'poor' are also mentioned in the caption of the first Rosarium
woodcut. Both the poor and the rich receive help from a mysterious
substance. Yet the substance, paradoxically, is also “full of hurtful
poison.” The paradoxical captions as well as abstruse woodcut imagery were to
be meditated upon much like the beads of the rosary found in orthodox
Christianity of the 16th century. And in the resulting intuition arose possible
answers to the woodcut meanings.
The meanings found in the Rosarium’s elaborate first woodcut can be as varied as number of meditators. A three-spouted fountain pours into a pool ringed with the words Unum est Mercurius mineralis, Mercurius vegetabilis, Mercurius animalis. The three elements are also mentioned near the top of the woodcut. There is also a repetition of stars. A star is found at each corner of the smoke columns and one between a sun and a crescent moon. At this point, however, the most telling of the many symbols in the initial woodcut appears as two creatures facing in opposite directions. Of the many interpretations offered the opposing creatures could be seen as a dualistic start to the attainment of this heavily-guarded kindly philosophy of alchemy.
Likewise the woodcut's many stars could reflect the means early navigators used in finding their bearings at sea. Later use of such devices as astrolabes help both travelers on sea and land. Yet whether it is by sea or by land, the journey must begin somewhere. So it is with every human. We each begin our journey through life getting our bearings, learning the language, customs, and dictating rules of the dualistic world we were born into. So it is with Dorothy as she and Toto start their journey traveling down their dusty Kansas road.
The meanings found in the Rosarium’s elaborate first woodcut can be as varied as number of meditators. A three-spouted fountain pours into a pool ringed with the words Unum est Mercurius mineralis, Mercurius vegetabilis, Mercurius animalis. The three elements are also mentioned near the top of the woodcut. There is also a repetition of stars. A star is found at each corner of the smoke columns and one between a sun and a crescent moon. At this point, however, the most telling of the many symbols in the initial woodcut appears as two creatures facing in opposite directions. Of the many interpretations offered the opposing creatures could be seen as a dualistic start to the attainment of this heavily-guarded kindly philosophy of alchemy.
Likewise the woodcut's many stars could reflect the means early navigators used in finding their bearings at sea. Later use of such devices as astrolabes help both travelers on sea and land. Yet whether it is by sea or by land, the journey must begin somewhere. So it is with every human. We each begin our journey through life getting our bearings, learning the language, customs, and dictating rules of the dualistic world we were born into. So it is with Dorothy as she and Toto start their journey traveling down their dusty Kansas road.
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