Archetypes

All history older than this immediate moment is related to other human beings in the form of stories. Stories are packages of symbolism constructed to inform, influence, or inspire. Some symbols are contextual. That is, comprehension of certain concepts are required before a symbol can be understood. Symbols of higher mathematical objects are but one example of this. Other symbols are universal—they are understood by all humans (and some lesser creatures as well) without need of foundational understanding. The symbol of the sun as a life giving force is universal whereas the symbol of an automobile as transportation and freedom is contextual. Universal symbols are often archetypal with some contextual symbolism inherent, which modifies the universal concept. An archetype is a pattern or model that explains the basis for other things of the same kind. In psychology, (particularly Jungian psychology) an archetype represents an unconscious idea inherited by the whole of humanity. It's a thought pattern, if you will. The pattern is common to most people—universally recognized by humans—but can be modified by the context which cultural stories built upon the archetype have provided.

The best example of these universal, yet contextually modified, archetypes are the famous monsters we're all aware of. Monsters whose patterns are generally similar and recognizable throughout multiple cultures, but modified slightly based on cultural significance (or insignificance) given to them. A contemporarily popular example of this is the zombie. Though the zombie is slightly different depending on the cultural setting, the basic concept (archetype) is the same. Zombies, as we know, are mindless, thoughtless creatures, often risen from the dead, consumed by a un-ending drive toward a singular purpose. In Western cultures this is the typical brain-craving, shambling corpse of the horror genre whereas in the East, particularly in China and Korea, it is the "hopping," reanimated cadaver, thirsty for the life-force of the living. The archetype is essentially the same, with a minor contextual modifications.

The monster archetypes are many and most have a deeper meaning than merely frightening the fearful. Indeed the majority of the monster archetypes can be used to describe the regular people and personalities we meet in our daily lives. For instance, consider the following examples:

Vampire:
I once had a boss who was particularly poor at his job. I could hardly stand to communicate with him because of both his ineptitude and his draining influence. He was pale and had stark black hair which stuck closely to his skull. He often wore black hoodies where the hood seemed as if it could have been the cowl of a cape. His eyes were wide and empty and he had a habit of sneaking up on his direct reports in way which felt like he had swiftly swooped down within a gust of air. He surprised and bewildered, quickly took a few bites from the egos of his employees with derogatory or inane criticisms and hastily retreated leaving his "victim" drained, confused, and annoyed. Every interaction with him was depleting. He was (is) the archetypal vampire in human form—a psychic vampire in LaVeyan terms.

Ogre:
A colleague of mine from another time was the quintessential ham-handed oaf. He stank of body odor and his cubicle was wretched with refuse in corners, stains on the walls, and odors offensive to many (especially women). He ate incessantly and wore a three-day stubble and tousled grey hair which shone from greasy build-up. He broke nearly everything he manipulated and managed to irritate, annoy, or disaffect everyone he came in contact with. His manner of dress was sloppy. He was wide of girth and rolls of his stomach tumbled out of his shirts which were often a size or two too small. He related a story of how he had crashed into a deaf man with his bicycle ostensibly because the man couldn't hear him coming but more likely because he himself was too uncoordinated to avoid a strolling human while riding on two wheels. No one was sad to see him leave. He was the most detestable sort of being—one that nobody could stand to be around. He was (is) the real life human equivalent of an ogre.

Ghoul:
I knew a property manager who looked like death warmed over. She was white with a greenish pallor that spoke of intractable illness. Her deep-set eye sockets were darkened with the shadows of age made worse by accentuation with heavy, dark eye shadowing. She had a mild, yet cloying redolence of something sickly sweet but rotten. She was likely cold to the touch—though I highly doubt anyone wanted to find out. Her grey hair was wispy atop her head but she kept it short and immobile with some kind of fixative. She delighted in evictions and move-outs and was quick to penalize late rents and breaches of lease. She hovered—much like a vulture—when her tenants were leaving, then rushed into their former domiciles once they had departed so that she could pick through any reaming tidbits of their lives. She was (is) a human manifestation of the ghoul.

More and yet more examples are readily available but these few paint the picture. Monster archetypes are used to symbolize the many human personalities and predilections in our cultural myths and narratives. The universal archetypes remain constant in these cases but the contextual archetypes change the pattern only very slightly. There is one other "monster" however (and I deign to call it that) where the universal archetype is loosely defined but the contextual (cultural) archetype varies widely depending on who is depicting the symbolism and their intentions in using the pattern. This particularly nebulous archetype is that of the "Devil," "Lucifer," or "Satan."

Satan:
The consumate gentleman, the adversary, the bearer of light, the fallen angel, the bringer of consciousness, the scapegoat, the root of all evil. These are just a few of the descriptions given to Satan and they quite obviously run the gamut from good to bad. Strangely, unlike those "monster" archetypes illustrated earlier, the archetype of Satan is much less "established" and varies widely—dependent on what particular group is describing him. The New Testament of Christianity essentially co-opted an existing archetype of pagan religions and recast it in a sinister darkness as the sole entity responsible for all suffering, strife, and "evil" in the human world. Prior to the New Testament's damning, Satan (or the horned god) had the highest position in the pagan pantheon of deities next to the goddess. Without Satan there would be no male-half of life and balance of forces would be impossible. Satan appears nowhere in the Old Testament. In the Judaic tradition, like the figure in the Story of Job, Satan is simply another member of the flight of heavenly angels. The Gnostics saw Lucifer (the morning star) as a guiding spirit—indeed a liberator and possibly the one true god. In Islam, the "devil" was banished from heaven merely for refusing to bow to the first human. Hardly the "root of all evil" that Late New Testament Christianity portrays.

Archetypes are important in understanding the symbolic stories that serve to relate our human experience to each other. While some archetypes are universal and understood by all people—even from different cultures and religions—others are almost entirely contextual. It is those that the Satanist must endeavor to understand since it is those contextual symbols that are most easily manipulated, misunderstood, and misused. When an archetype has only a loose universal definition and constrained contextual interpretation, it begs to be questioned, examined, and finally redefined if necessary.