Psyche and Eros: The Mysterious Husband

Louis-Jean-François…….Psyche Surprising the Sleeping Cupid…….1724

Robert Johnson discusses the symbolism of the lamp…

The shadow urges a woman to question the paradise garden and gives her some wonderful and terrible tools for her purpose. There is a  lamp, hidden at first, which is her ability to see what is.

This is her capacity for consciousness.

Light is always the symbol of consciousness, whether it be in the hands of man or a woman.

A woman’s natural consciousness is of a unique and beautiful kind, a lamp.

It burns the oil of the earth or of the fruit and gives a particularly warm, gentle, soft light. There is not the hard intensity of sunlight in it but the gentle feminine warmth of nature’s light.

The other tool is a knife, very sharp.

Of these tools Psyche uses only one.

She never uses the other, and I think there is sage advice in the myth in this respect.

A woman gently shedding light on a situation produces miracles; a woman with a knife in her hands would kill.

Transform or kill?

This is a critical choice, especially for a modern woman.

If the knife comes first there will probably be much damage.

If the lamp comes first there is a chance of intelligence and growth.

If she wields her tools carefully she can bring about a miracle of transformation — nothing less than the showing forth of the god, Eros in his true light.

She can be justly pleased that her light produced the miracle.

Much of a man’s mute yearning for a woman is his need for her light to show him — as well as her — his true nature and godhood.

Every woman holds this terrible-wonderful power in her hands.

She, Pages 26-29

The Mysterious Husband

The Golden Ass Book V:4-6

When these delights were ended, prompted by the sight of the evening star, Psyche retired to bed.

Now, when night was well advanced, gentle whispers sounded in her ears, and all alone she feared for her virgin self, trembling and quivering, frightened most of what she knew nothing of.

Her unknown husband had arrived and mounted the bed, and made Psyche his wife, departing swiftly before light fell.

The servant-voices waiting in her chamber cared for the new bride no longer virgin.

Things transpired thus for many a night, and through constant habit, as nature dictates, her new state accustomed her to its pleasures, and that sound of mysterious whispering consoled her solitude….

Meanwhile her unseen husband, on his nightly visit, warned Psyche once more: “See how much danger you’re in.

Fortune is plotting at a distance, but soon, unless you take firm precautions, she’ll be attacking you face to face.

Those treacherous she-wolves are working hard to execute some evil act against you, by tempting you to examine my features. But do so and, as I’ve told you, you’ll never see me again.

So if those foul harpies armed with their noxious thoughts return, as I know they will, you must hold no conversation with them.

And if in your true innocence and tender-heartedness you can’t bear that, then at least, if they speak of me, don’t listen, or if you must don’t answer.

You see our family will increase, and your womb, a child’s, must bear another child, who if you keep our secret silently will be divine, though if you profane it, mortal.”

There you sit, feeling blessed and happy, in ignorance of your dire misfortune, careless of your danger; while we’ve been awake all night, unsleeping in our concern for your problems, sadly tormented by your impending disaster.

We know the truth now, you see, and sharing of course in your ills and troubles we cannot hide it from you: what sleeps beside you, shrouded by the darkness, is a monstrous serpent, a slippery knot of coils, its blood-filled gaping jaws oozing noxious venom.

Remember Apollo’s oracle which prophesied you were destined to wed some brutish creature.

Trembling and pale, the blood draining from her face, stammering feverish words through half-open lips, she answered as follows:

“Dearest sisters, true and loyal as ever to your own, you are right: I believe those who told you all this speak no lie. Indeed, I have never seen my husband’s face, nor do I know what he truly is.

I only hear his midnight whispers, and suffer the attentions of an unseen partner who shuns the light. He must be some strange creature, I agree.

He always warns me not to try and reveal his features, and threatens harsh punishment for my curiosity concerning his appearance. If you can save your sister from this danger, help me now.

Neglect me and you’ll undo the good your care has brought about.”

Her defenses were down, and those wicked sisters, having breached the gates of her mind, now quit the cover of their secret scheming, drew their blades, and bore down on the helpless girl’s timidity.

Said one: “Since our love of family compels us to shun all danger where a sister’s life is at stake, we’ll show you the only way to reach salvation, a carefully thought out plan.

Take a sharp razor, whet it further, hide it in your palm then place it secretly under the pillow where you lie. Then trim the lamp, fill it with oil, so it shines with a clear light, and conceal it under a little cover.

Prepare all this with the utmost caution, and after he’s slithered into bed with you, as he’s lying there enmeshed in the web of sleep, and breathing deeply, slip from the bed and tiptoeing barefoot without a sound free the lamp from its dark prison.

Seize the chance for a glorious deed of your own from the light’s clear counsel; and grasping your double-bladed weapon tightly, raise your right hand high, and with the firmest stroke you can muster sever the venomous serpent’s head from his body.

Our help will not be lacking.

As soon as you’ve won freedom by his death we’ll be waiting anxiously to rush to your aid, and carrying all the treasure back with us, we’ll see you joined in proper marriage vows, mortal to mortal.

With this inflaming speech they kindled their sister’s now heated mind further and then left her, fearing, themselves, to haunt the scene of so evil an act.

They were wafted by the winged breeze to the summit of the cliff, as before and, hastening away in swift retreat, boarded their ships and were gone.Psyche was left alone, except that a woman driven by hostile Furies is never alone.

In her grief, she ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide. Though the scheme was decided and she determined, still as she drew towards the act itself she wavered, confused in mind, torn by the countless conflicting emotions the situation prompted.

She prepared and delayed, dared and feared, despaired and felt anger, while, hardest of all to endure, she hated the beast and loved the husband embodied in a single form. Yet, as evening led towards night, she readied all needed for the wicked crime with frantic haste.

Night fell, and her husband came, and after love’s skirmishes and struggles he dropped into deep slumber.

Then Psyche, though lacking strength and courage, was empowered by cruel fate, and unveiling the lamp, seized the razor, acting a man’s part in her boldness.

Yet, as the light shone clear and the bed’s mysteries were revealed, she found her savage beast was the gentlest and sweetest creature of all, that handsome god Cupid, handsome now in sleep.

At the sight, even the lamp’s flame quickened in joy, and the razor regretted its sacrilegious stroke. But Psyche, terrified at the marvellous vision, beside her self with fear, and overcome with sudden weariness, sank pale, faint and trembling to her knees.

She tried to conceal the weapon, in her own breast! She would indeed have done so if the gleaming blade had not flown from her reckless hands, in horror at her dreadful intent. Exhausted now by the sense of release, she gazed again and again at the beauty of that celestial face, and her spirits revived.

She saw the glorious tresses, drenched with ambrosia, on his golden brow, the neatly tied locks straying over his rosy cheeks and milk-white neck, some hanging delicately in front others behind, and the splendour of their shining brilliance made the lamplight dim.

Over the winged god’s shoulders white plumage glimmered like petals in the morning dew, and though his wings were at rest, soft little feathers at their edges trembled restlessly in wanton play.

The rest of his body was smooth and gleaming, such that Venus had no regrets at having borne such a child. At the foot of the bed lay his bow, and his quiver full of arrows, the graceful weapons of the powerful god.

With insatiable curiosity Psyche examined, touched, wondered at her husband’s weapons.

She drew an arrow from the quiver, testing the point against her thumb-tip, but her hand was still trembling and pressing too hard she pricked the surface, so that tiny drops of crimson blood moistened the skin.

Thus without knowing it Psyche fell further in love with Love himself, so that now inflamed with desire for Desire, she leaned over Cupid, desperate for him.

John Wood…….Psyche Enamored of Cupid……..1824