‘Rock of Heaven’ There are so many points of similarity between Cuzco’s prototype in the galactic formation and the description of the way to Hades of the tenth and the last books of the Odyssey, that there is no hesitation in attributing the White Rock of the latter to the very bright, very pure light of the star Deneb, an ‘island’ afloat in the cosmic sea of the night. And when one considers the regular event which brings the Sun on its ecliptic path into the region of the Cygnus asterism at the winter solstice, the “gates of the sun” will indeed lie close to the White Rock, also close to the “mouldering pathway” of the Dark Rift. Remarkably, Egypt displayed the same interest in a primeval rock as the point of origin for their civilisation in the form of the mythic primordial mound which emerged from the waters of creation. Inevitably, this important symbol received a great deal of elaboration, both conceptually and in the concrete forms of art and architecture. It was a ‘fountain of energy’ drawing upon the deeps, and imbued with the power to carry the soul of a body, buried in proximity, to its earthly counterparts from this life into the next, or into rebirth. It fulfils the same role as the cosmic mountain, as a marker of the centre of space and the source of all that comes into being. Its scaled-down counterpart is the ben-ben stone (pyramidion) mounted on the obelisk but also guarded in the holy of holies at the innermost heart of the temple where the god resides. The stone also shares its name with the purple heron (also ‘bnw’) who is the phoenix, symbol of the rising Sun. Particularly worth noting is that the same primordial mount splits in two to release the creator god, Atum-Ra, the principle of light, often shown upholding the disk of the Sun. After this event, this mound resolves into the twin peaks of the double horizon so fundamental to the solar-based philosophy of ancient Egypt, where the same two mountains of the east and west horizons reappear as the twin pylon doors of the temple and as the representatives of ‘life’ and ‘death’. Nicolas Wyatt has followed the theme through Ugarit and Israelite texts to provide his readers with a substantial body of written evidence relating to the sacred stone as the focus of ritual in many Near Eastern cultures. But the feature which should interest us here should be the possibility of a cosmic prototype, a model in the night sky. Therefore the most helpful clues provided by these texts are those which associate the stone with twin phenomena, such as the split mountains just discussed, or confluent / divergent rivers. Mount Saphon, on the Syro-Turkish border, is one such divided mountain which has a split profile, like Mount Parnassos where the Greek omphalos stone resided; the same twin-peaked or saddlebacked mountain appears in several other eastern cosmologies. The following lines translated from the Ugaritian language speak of deity, mountain, temple, hill, power and place of origin in association with an Otherworldly condition or place: “Come, and I shall reveal it in the midst of my divine mountain, Saphon, in the sanctuary, on the mountain of my inheritance, in Paradise, in the hill of victory. The god resides in or on his hill in many instances, and is identified with it, as in Psalm 18. 2, which addresses the psalmist’s Lord as rock, fortress, God, strength, deliverer, buckler, horn of salvation and high tower. Confusingly, but by subtle and fluid associations now largely lost to us, the stone / mountain merges with the throne of god or king, and with the temple or palace where stone, throne or king resides; the garden of paradise is also to be found on the sacred mountain, but it will be recreated in the temple precinct. Every temple is a centre, an omphalos, and a constructed equivalent of the primordial hill, so the earthly replica carries within its walls all the values associated with its prototype. Thus there emerges an ascending-descending scale wherein the sky feature (a star or stars) is read as a rock or mountain, a mountain of adequate verisimilitude is then identified on Earth, and the temple or palace replicates that mountain at the same time as it invokes the numinous power and presence of the celestial model (its ‘god’). But the hill is equally the site of the tree as axis mundi, which climbs up into the sky. Temples, towers, ziggurats and pyramids built over a sacred foundation stone reached up into the skies in order to be close to the places of origin which they desire to replicate, especially the stars and rivers of stars. Frequently it is a particular star group which is the focus of attention. In a short Egyptian spell, reference is made both to the “sycamore in the sky” (the up-reaching tree) and to the “Great Cackler” or primeval gander / goose, who laid the first “egg” from which all life emerges. The egg is a simple variant on the ”life-giving rock or stone, so this is almost certainly the ‘egg’ of Cygnus, the white bird, and must be one of her stars, most likely Deneb at the ‘parting of the rivers’ (figure VIII-13). The egg is commonly used to express the ‘seed of manifestation’ in the biological metaphors of Hindu, Chinese, Celtic and Greek cosmogonies, to name but a few; and whose egg should it be, other than a celestial bird’s? Laid on the surface of the primordial waters, just like the emergent hill out of the floods, the egg often divides to give either Heaven and Earth, or upper and lower hemispheres. The Egyptian egg was laid on that primeval hill of which we have already spoken, and from it emerged the god Khnum, who brought order to the universe. (We must not forget the mating of Zeus with Leda the swan, which some say generated the Dioskouroi, the heavenly twins, and their sister Helen). All these overlays imply that the celestial original of stone, hill and egg is to be found among the stars of the white bird, Cygnus, which in consideration of the generative power of all three, makes the division of the Milky Way rivers the location of both Heaven and/or Olympos, and the Underworld, Hades, the entrance to one lying close to the other but leading in opposite directions, as they do from Homer’s Cave of the Nymphs. This possibility will be explored in later chapters when we come to review the topography of the Plain of Troy and the location of ancient Olympia, which also appear to imbue their physical geography with the symbolic functions of a stellar prototype. Far closer to Greek sources than the world of Egyptian mythology, and closer to Greek philosophy also, is the delicate craft work of the Minoans of Crete and the mainland Mycenaeans who embraced and absorbed Cretan culture. One example stands out as relevant to our argument, although unfortunately its provenance is open to major doubt. It is the ‘Tree of Nestor’, engraved on the gold ring which was named for the elder statesman of Homer’s two Epics.