The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion (Third Edition, Vol. 03 of 12)Frazer, James George
Religion
The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion (Third Edition, Vol. 03 of 12)
Frazer, James George
Magic; Mythology; Religion; Superstition
They say that if the knife strikes the
image fair in the eye, the person whose likeness it is will suffer a
corresponding injury in his or her eye. This procedure, we are informed,
has been successful in restoring milk to the udders of a cow when even
holy water had been tried in vain.(317) The Zulus will not look into a
dark pool because they think there is a beast in it which will take away
their reflections, so that they die.(318) The Basutos say that crocodiles
have the power of thus killing a man by dragging his reflection under
water. When one of them dies suddenly and from no apparent cause, his
relatives will allege that a crocodile must have taken his shadow some
time when he crossed a stream.(319) In Saddle Island, Melanesia, there is
a pool “into which if any one looks he dies; the malignant spirit takes
hold upon his life by means of his reflection on the water.”(320)
(M63) We can now understand why it was a maxim both in ancient India and
ancient Greece not to look at one’s reflection in water, and why the
Greeks regarded it as an omen of death if a man dreamed of seeing himself
so reflected.(321) They feared that the water-spirits would drag the
person’s reflection or soul under water, leaving him soulless to perish.
This was probably the origin of the classical story of the beautiful
Narcissus, who languished and died through seeing his reflection in the
water. The explanation that he died for love of his own fair image was
probably devised later, after the old meaning of the story was forgotten.
The same ancient belief lingers, in a faded form, in the English
superstition that whoever sees a water fairy must pine and die.
“_Alas, the moon should ever beam_
_To show what man should never see!—_
_I saw a maiden on a stream,_
_And fair was she!_
_I staid to watch, a little space,_
_Her parted lips if she would sing;_
_The waters closed above her face_
_With many a ring._
_I know my life will fade away,_
_I know that I must vainly pine,_
_For I am made of mortal clay,_
_But she’s divine!_”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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