Looking Back on the Anthesteria

The Anthesteria Papers: A Journal (11 - 13 Anthesterion 1.697)

1. Anthesteria Eve
2. Pithoigia
3. Khoes
4. Khutroi
5. Purification

Anthesteria Eve

Today, the snow came. They say that it will stop tomorrow. On my way home from giving someone computer tutoring, I took pictures of the road, the house, and the steps. One of the trees in the yard looked so beautiful.

We have had over a foot so far. The Anthesteria is a festival where flowers are in abundance, and I suppose that climate is inappropriate for the region; however, the wine aspect of the festival takes precedence. At this time of year, with the snow blowing outside, I need something to keep me sane for the rest of winter because Gaia will remain hard and unyielding until May.

The Finger Lakes needs a founding myth for Dionysos. Here, where the landscape varies between the languid, cool summers and the snowy winters, is an oasis of vineyards and gorges. The landscape drove me mad as a child when we moved away because I would see it when I closed my eyes. It's one of the places that, if you come in the summer, you will never forget. Kids and milk indeed.

After stopping at the liquor store for some cheap, local ice wine, I went home and tried to figure out what exactly I needed for the shrine. My regular one doesn't work for this festival, and I have decided to keep it covered until Sunday night. (This means I will miss Kyklos Apollon on Saturday night, but I think Apollon will understand; this may also have happened last year.) I made a beautiful small one using some fake flowers and a Classical painting of Dionysos adorned with vines, the same image that is on the cover of one of those posh academic editions of the Homeric Hymns.

I also have a special snuffer that I acquired just before the 12 Days of Dionysos that I am now using for Dionysian festivals.

Day One: Pithoigia

I have decided that it honors Dionysos the most when I am not gagging down sour wine. Ice wine tastes like alcoholic fruit juice, and I don't need to bother mixing honey in. On the label, it says "18.5% Residual Sugar By Volume." This stuff is great. I cut wine with water because I don't drink enough to know my tolerance level, and celebrating alone means that I am the only one to mind the candle on my temporary shrine.

This is probably more alcohol than I have ever had in my life. The main, structured Hellenic ritual closed about 10 minutes ago and I am still buzzing, unable to keep still. My Grooveshark playlist for Dionysos (which I made while dinner was cooking) is playing "Lightning Strikes" by Yes.

During the ritual, I read from the Bacchae and the Orphic Hymns. I also browsed through Elizabeth Roberts's Earth Prayers from Around the World to satisfy the festival's other side because all of the winter produce comes from California or wherever. I burned myrrh and breathed deeply while listening to music and thinking about Dionysos.

My hands are still mildly sticky from the wine, and my Kindle is the best. ritual. tool. ever.

Day Two: Khoes

It has finally stopped snowing, and my cheeks are flushed from about 2/3 a glass of wine.

I am thinking about celebrating the Anthesteria alone, and the more I think, it would be fantastic to celebrate this in a community of people where the happiness and joy of the holiday can abound.

Offering cult to the Eumenides has made the story of Orestes personally significant, so I celebrated that part traditionally reserved for men, the sharing of wine in separate glasses. It interests me that, as a long-term devotee of Apollon, I am so compelled to worship them. Many of the shrines dedicated to the Eumenides existed because Orestes had passed by that location in flight. It seemed appropriate to drink with him for that unintentional blessing.

Tonight, while meditating on Dionysos, I thought about him walking through the nighttime modern streets, coming into town via train and walking. Everything is silent, and there are no people. He goes through a small alley door into a room where the ghosts of the past sit waiting for the sacred marriage to complete, the hieros gamos. Out on the streets, everything is still quietly anticipating the presence of the God. I imagine myself there on the darkened streets, and when he comes out that door, I see him. We acknowledge each other briefly; suddenly, it's like a switch has been flipped and there are people everywhere with flowers and images and wine. It was a great moment in my imagination, and it makes me long for something that beautiful in reality.

My flute came out tonight; I played something improvisational in the lower registers to avoid wakening anyone. I'm not sure I can replicate the melody; it just came, and there was a regular pattern to it. I cut it off because I don't want to disturb anyone in the house, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could go on playing without embellishing and running up into the higher register.

Today, after the sun rises, I will make a hole in the several feet of snow to pour and clean the libations from the past few days. I would rather do this before tomorrow when the ancestors are worshipped. I am also thinking ahead to purification ceremonies for the lighter and other items I have used during the rituals, but the purification ceremony must wait until the Anthesteria has finished — Sunday night?

I anticipate going to bed tonight and reading something, but I am not quite sure what.

I wonder if it's significant that the Hindus begin Holi right after our Anthesteria ends?

Day Three: Khutroi

Today, I made offerings to the Chthonic Gods (Plouton, Persephone, and Hermes Chthonios), along with the ancestors. I cooked a thick stew of beans, oats, and potatoes, and I added a lot of interesting spices from the cabinet. It smelled good, but I didn't taste any of it. I dug a hole in the snow where I made the offerings.

My grandfather left many letters behind from his time serving in World War II, and I had intended for a while to open them during the Anthesteria. I read several of them from his time training in LA, along with one after he had begun his service in the United Kingdom, where he prepped houses to receive wounded soldiers. I have some budding ideas about what to do with these letters, including do some kind of giant blog project, but some of the letters are not dated. Thankfully, most have postmark stamps on them.

Purification

I asked Apollon for purification after the Anthesteria had ended, and for the first time I played my half-tuned psaltery while worshipping (using the notes I had tuned). Chanting PAIAN PYTHIAN APOLLON APOLLON PYTHIAN PAIAN was beautiful with the accompaniment. (Note: since that recording, I have made it a more melodic chant.) I sprinkled khernips everywhere and prayed for ritual purity.