Campbell set out to explore what lay behind the various myths of as many cultures as he could. He went back as far as archeology let him and gradually made his way towards where we are now, pointing out that each myth had a 'local' construction, i.e. aspects of each myth were specifically to do with the time and place the myth was constructed within. These 'local' aspects were often to do with how the people organised themselves as a unit and often set out rules of behaviour. However, each myth also had universal significance, whereby it reflected the common reality of the human condition, which allowed people to come to terms with birth, growth, maturity and death, these things being aspects of everyone's lives no matter where they came from and when. By breaking myth down into these two different categories it became much easier to see how conflicts arose. Basically it was the local differences that caused difficulties. A religion developed in a specific area of the world, during a specific time, would have local issues related to what the conditions of life were at that time and place. If people continued to believe the same set of rules for hundreds of years, those rules would begin to appear arbitrary. For instance a belief that the world was created let's say 6,000 years ago, might have been feasible to people that lived 2,000 years ago, but the solid evidence of the more recent science of geology disputes this and tells us that the world was created four and a half billion years ago. A book that was written when knowledge of the history of the planet was very sketchy, should not be used as a sort of equal truth in relation to constantly updated real evidence about reality. But Biblical creationists still believe that the universe and all life were directly created by God in the exact manner described in the Book of Genesis.
In Primitive Mythology, Campbell tells a story of the commonality of our underlying nature, it develops a narrative centred on how we make sense of what it is to be human. He uses anthropology, archaeology, and psychology to show that all humans share a fundamental core of spiritual history. Not only does he do this but he proposes that the mythological stories that give meaning to our human lives, are composed much like a great symphony. His book looks at how early humans expressed religious awe, as well as how the continuing rituals of certain still existing tribes, help us to understand how and why religious awe is significant in the establishment of meaningful social codes of behaviour. He also explains how humanity's oldest spiritual worldview emerged; the practice of animism, a belief that all things possess living spirits, be they animal, plant or substance, such as a landscape, a star or a force like the wind. This is something that I have come to believe myself, which helps me to find a very personal connection with those early modern humans. Early peoples must have had a hard time surviving, but perhaps some times were harder than others. Those who strove to find forms that could express and communicate their religious reverence of and interconnection with the surrounding world, must have believed very strongly in a reason to do so, as to make a carving such as the Lion Man of Hohlenstein-Stadel, would have taken up a lot of energy, which otherwise could have been devoted to hunting or fishing. Perhaps a figure like this might have been made during a time of excess, such as when fruit was in plentiful supply, but the fact that the figure is carved from the tusk of a mammoth suggests that it was made during a time of long winters, when elephants needed thick hairy coats to survive the cold.
Lion Man of Hohlenstein-Stadel
I have pointed out in an earlier post that archaeologists think that early humans viewed cave walls as thin, permeable membranes that separated their physical world from the spirit realm. Painting on the surfaces of these cave walls being a way to interact directly with the animal spirits believed to dwell within.
Lascaux Cave
This concern with ideas whereby spirits could move between things, is highlighted by that hybrid figure of the "Lion-Man"; a 40,000-year-old ivory sculpture that is half-human, half-animal. The sculpture is a physical manifestation of the act of a human transforming into an animal or channeling the raw power of a cave lion.
This sculpture is a model I often think about when drawing. The form was found within the shape of the mammoth tusk, the curve of the lion man's body echoing the curve of the tusk. Just as when you are making a drawing, the image often emerges out of the way drawing materials suggest form. Of course this is also the case when I'm making ceramic objects, the clay itself will feel as if it needs to go in one direction more than another and as it does the implication of a new form begins to reveal itself.
I have a drawing led practice, i. e. that it is in drawing that I find manifestations of imagery that guide my practice. I have used a wide range of media, including screen based approaches and whether I am using pencil on paper, a finger pushing through charcoal dust on a floor, chalk on a blackboard, tape on a wall, a stick on a beach or a mouse and computer screen or a drawing tablet and computer monitor, each media will suggest new and different forms. There is some sort of exchange principle that moves back and forth between myself as an organic entity and the substances I engage with to create meanings. This process I find very similar to animism, the spirit of an idea being passed between myself and the media I use to materialise my thoughts.
This sculpture is a model I often think about when drawing. The form was found within the shape of the mammoth tusk, the curve of the lion man's body echoing the curve of the tusk. Just as when you are making a drawing, the image often emerges out of the way drawing materials suggest form. Of course this is also the case when I'm making ceramic objects, the clay itself will feel as if it needs to go in one direction more than another and as it does the implication of a new form begins to reveal itself.
I have a drawing led practice, i. e. that it is in drawing that I find manifestations of imagery that guide my practice. I have used a wide range of media, including screen based approaches and whether I am using pencil on paper, a finger pushing through charcoal dust on a floor, chalk on a blackboard, tape on a wall, a stick on a beach or a mouse and computer screen or a drawing tablet and computer monitor, each media will suggest new and different forms. There is some sort of exchange principle that moves back and forth between myself as an organic entity and the substances I engage with to create meanings. This process I find very similar to animism, the spirit of an idea being passed between myself and the media I use to materialise my thoughts.
A drawing made using computer software: 1990s
Early humans developed a visionary framework centred around shamanism, whereby individuals with spiritual knowledge could enter ecstatic trance states. These altered states could be achieved through rhythmic chanting, dancing or sensory deprivation, states that allowed them to believe that they were traveling to otherworldly dimensions to commune with animist entities. The first indications that we have in archeological evidence of such early spiritual thought is that people began to purposefully bury their dead. Bodies were often arranged in deliberate positions (such as facing the rising sun) and buried with flowers, animal bones, or precious tools. This clear conceptualisation of an afterlife, must have also included a surrounding set of rituals, such as the widespread use of red ochre to colour the bones of the deceased. This use implies a very early symbolic connection to blood, the representation of a life force through the use of a painted colour and in the painting of these bones there must have been sought some sort of spiritual transition.
In addition to rituals surrounding death, early hunter-gatherers felt a profound and direct kinship with their environment. They worshiped the immediate forces of the landscape that surrounded them. Unusual landscape features like waterfalls, ancient groves of trees, thermal springs, and high mountain peaks were treated as being sacred. They were in awe of the creatures they hunted, developing concepts of animal guardians and related deities who could protect the souls of both humans and other animals. Out of these beliefs myths arose, narratives that could act as guides and give clues to human spiritual potential, helping individuals and the tribe to connect with the deep experience of being alive.
Primitive Mythology was not I soon realised 'primitive' and it had a profound effect. I remember reading it in sections on my way to work. In those days I caught a bus in the morning and it took the best part of an hour to get where I needed to be, so Campbell and many other authors were consumed during a time I felt would be otherwise wasted. This meant that I was primed to enthuse my teaching with what I was reading and of course it was also influencing what I was trying to make as an artist. Campbell's ideas of 'enthusiasms' were a guiding light for both. When asked by an interviewer how do we find the God within us, Campbell replied, "Look to see what makes you enthusiastic? Then follow it." He then pointed out that the word 'enthusiastic' comes from the Ancient Greek word enthousiastikos, which literally means "possessed or inspired by a god".
Joseph Campbell in conversation
I also read Campbell's other books but non of them had the impact of Primitive Mythology; Creative Mythology though did give me a clue as to what I should be doing as a practitioner, his thoughts on James Joyce's Ulysses I often passed on when talking to students. In particular the idea that one day in someone's life could become as mythic a journey as Homer's epic poem, The Voyage of Ulysses; which was a great reminder that everything we experience in our daily 'normal' lives has the potential to be mythic.
I was during this time a young father and the activities undertaken by my daughter and son were huge influences. They seemed to be able to tap into the deep mysteries of a mythological condition by just doing what they did, they did not need to learn about this, they knew it. This made me very aware that in our society education in many ways was designed to iron out the creases of ancient myths that we all inherited. We had to learn to put on new clothes and discard old ones, even if the old ones were still serviceable. 
My daughter as a bird: An image worked on over 3 sheets of A1 paper: 1987
Another more recent hybrid
See also:
For Patrick: Potting the 8 ball A reminder of how when teaching we used to embed everyday experiences into mythic consequences
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