Hi,
First post here! I'm a venezuelan artist based in Barcelona. I'm also interested in ancient history and myths.
I recently read a book by Venezuelan/Haitian history professor Michelle Ascencio called "De Qué Vuelan, Vuelan" (open-source PDF - Spanish only - here: [ia800400.us.archive.org])
It’s a historical review of the main religions in Venezuela. I was surprised to read about the myth of "San Isidro Labrador," which deals with rain, floods, and fertility—myths that trace back to ancestral indigenous beliefs about the ARCO/ARCA god. I was also surprised to learn that the María Lionza religious movement emerged from the ancestral indigenous beliefs and cults surrounding serpents. One of the myths involving a serpent and water goes as follows:
¨
The Myth of María Lionza: The Enchanted Maiden of the Nivar
In the Nirgua district of Yaracuy state, there's a fascinating legend tied to the lagoon of the city of Nirgua. Its origins are rooted in the cultural traditions of the Jirajara people, with possible influences from the Spanish and African settlers in the area.
The story begins with a prophecy from a great shaman during a harvest festival. He foretold that a time would come when a maiden, born to a tribal chief, would have eyes of such an extraordinary color that they would defy recognition when reflected in water. If this maiden ever gazed upon her reflection, a monstrous serpent—an ancient water spirit—would emerge from the lagoon, bringing ruin and destruction to the Nivar people.
This prophecy brought great fear to the proud tribe. With each new birth, the tribal leaders would anxiously check the newborn girls, relieved when they found their eyes to be the usual dark color. But the fateful day eventually arrived. Shortly before the Spanish invasion, a chief’s daughter was born with mesmerizing green eyes, shimmering like aquamarine, jade, or the skin of a green snake. Her beauty was astonishing, yet it brought dread to the tribe.
The chief, resisting the demands of his people to sacrifice the girl to the water spirit, hid her away in a secret location, guarded by 22 young warriors. The girl grew into a stunning maiden whose eyes seemed to cast an enchanting glow. Her beauty was both captivating and eerie, as if she embodied a mystical connection to the serpent’s power.
As she reached puberty, the tribe intensified efforts to shield her from any reflective surface. Mirrors, water, and even puddles were forbidden to her. However, one ill-fated day, a sinister dream overcame her guardians. Under the serpent’s supernatural influence, they fell into a deep slumber, leaving the girl unsupervised.
Drawn by an unknown force, the maiden wandered to the edge of the sacred lagoon. For the first time, she saw her reflection—a face of extraordinary harmony and beauty, but her pupils appeared as two dark voids, gateways to another realm. Transfixed, she stared, unable to look away. Suddenly, from the reflection, a swirling motion began. The water churned, and from the vortex emerged the monstrous serpent, its metallic eyes gleaming and its enormous coils spiraling upwards.
The maiden let out a scream that echoed across the mountains before plunging into the water. Her guardians awoke and rushed to the lagoon, only to find the furious serpent thrashing in its domain. The creature’s immense power caused the lagoon to overflow, unleashing a catastrophic flood. The Nivar people fled as their homes, temples, and fields were consumed by the raging waters.
The serpent grew so massive in its rampage that its body eventually burst from its own uncontainable energy. Its lifeless form stretched across the land: the head rested in Tacarigua, now the site of Valencia’s cathedral, while the tail lay in Sorte, near Chivacoa.
Thus, the myth blends indigenous, Spanish, and African elements to explain both the natural and spiritual forces that shape the land of Nirgua.¨
Michel Ascencio explains this myth in her book as follows:
¨As we can observe while reading, there are too many explanations and digressions in the narration that weaken the power of the myth’s language. Myths are not explanatory texts but stories that establish a reality through their own unique language, where metaphor and metonymy bridge the gap between reality and symbol. Moreover, mythical events, situations, and characters follow laws distinct from those of the profane world, which are generally expressed in cause-effect relationships.
Many indigenous American myths recount the transformation of human beings into animals (reptiles, fish, mammals) and vice versa. The presence of a flood—the destruction of the world by water—is a universal theme in the mythologies of all times. What did Antolínez have in mind when he composed the myth? We do not know, but his intention to craft a narrative rooted in aboriginal culture is sincere, highlighting significant elements such as the initiation of young women upon reaching puberty, the importance of lagoons, and the “lord of the water,” a figure so popular in our oral tradition.
Additionally, the myth contains a clear opposition between the sleeping warriors and the awakened maiden, whose cavern-like eyes see only death—a clear allusion to the destruction of indigenous culture and its survival and supremacy in the symbolic form of a water-serpent deity.¨
Then adds another version of the same myth:
Now let us read the narration of a peasant and observe the complex interplay of language that oscillates between what is revealed and what remains hidden, without offering explanations:
“…the daughter of an Indian chief… She had a gold crown with a ribbon on top, which she only wore when walking along the shore of the lake (Lake Valencia). But one day, her father married her off to a distant chief, and she had to leave, never to return. The night before the maiden left, there was a storm like no other. The waters of the lake rose, and the nearby stilt houses were swept away. The lake’s enchantment—for this lake also had an enchantment—saw the blood of the wounded fall into its waters. It also saw the chief’s daughter standing by the water, here, on this very peninsula of Araguato.
The terror stood still, watching her, watching her, before leaving forever. The maiden stepped closer and closer until she entered the water up to her knees. The lightning illuminated her. She was wearing the gold crown with the ribbon on top. She raised both arms and removed it from her head. Then, she threw it with all her strength… it is a serpent over thirty meters long that moves from Las Brujitas to Rincón Grande, because only there, where the depth exceeds sixty meters, can it dwell.”
- - - - -
The book goes on to explain the complexities of the María Lionza religious cult, which is fascinating in itself. However, I didn’t know until reading this book that its origins are linked to flood and serpent myths. I thought it might be relevant to share here. Hope you enjoy it!
First post here! I'm a venezuelan artist based in Barcelona. I'm also interested in ancient history and myths.
I recently read a book by Venezuelan/Haitian history professor Michelle Ascencio called "De Qué Vuelan, Vuelan" (open-source PDF - Spanish only - here: [ia800400.us.archive.org])
It’s a historical review of the main religions in Venezuela. I was surprised to read about the myth of "San Isidro Labrador," which deals with rain, floods, and fertility—myths that trace back to ancestral indigenous beliefs about the ARCO/ARCA god. I was also surprised to learn that the María Lionza religious movement emerged from the ancestral indigenous beliefs and cults surrounding serpents. One of the myths involving a serpent and water goes as follows:
¨
The Myth of María Lionza: The Enchanted Maiden of the Nivar
In the Nirgua district of Yaracuy state, there's a fascinating legend tied to the lagoon of the city of Nirgua. Its origins are rooted in the cultural traditions of the Jirajara people, with possible influences from the Spanish and African settlers in the area.
The story begins with a prophecy from a great shaman during a harvest festival. He foretold that a time would come when a maiden, born to a tribal chief, would have eyes of such an extraordinary color that they would defy recognition when reflected in water. If this maiden ever gazed upon her reflection, a monstrous serpent—an ancient water spirit—would emerge from the lagoon, bringing ruin and destruction to the Nivar people.
This prophecy brought great fear to the proud tribe. With each new birth, the tribal leaders would anxiously check the newborn girls, relieved when they found their eyes to be the usual dark color. But the fateful day eventually arrived. Shortly before the Spanish invasion, a chief’s daughter was born with mesmerizing green eyes, shimmering like aquamarine, jade, or the skin of a green snake. Her beauty was astonishing, yet it brought dread to the tribe.
The chief, resisting the demands of his people to sacrifice the girl to the water spirit, hid her away in a secret location, guarded by 22 young warriors. The girl grew into a stunning maiden whose eyes seemed to cast an enchanting glow. Her beauty was both captivating and eerie, as if she embodied a mystical connection to the serpent’s power.
As she reached puberty, the tribe intensified efforts to shield her from any reflective surface. Mirrors, water, and even puddles were forbidden to her. However, one ill-fated day, a sinister dream overcame her guardians. Under the serpent’s supernatural influence, they fell into a deep slumber, leaving the girl unsupervised.
Drawn by an unknown force, the maiden wandered to the edge of the sacred lagoon. For the first time, she saw her reflection—a face of extraordinary harmony and beauty, but her pupils appeared as two dark voids, gateways to another realm. Transfixed, she stared, unable to look away. Suddenly, from the reflection, a swirling motion began. The water churned, and from the vortex emerged the monstrous serpent, its metallic eyes gleaming and its enormous coils spiraling upwards.
The maiden let out a scream that echoed across the mountains before plunging into the water. Her guardians awoke and rushed to the lagoon, only to find the furious serpent thrashing in its domain. The creature’s immense power caused the lagoon to overflow, unleashing a catastrophic flood. The Nivar people fled as their homes, temples, and fields were consumed by the raging waters.
The serpent grew so massive in its rampage that its body eventually burst from its own uncontainable energy. Its lifeless form stretched across the land: the head rested in Tacarigua, now the site of Valencia’s cathedral, while the tail lay in Sorte, near Chivacoa.
Thus, the myth blends indigenous, Spanish, and African elements to explain both the natural and spiritual forces that shape the land of Nirgua.¨
Michel Ascencio explains this myth in her book as follows:
¨As we can observe while reading, there are too many explanations and digressions in the narration that weaken the power of the myth’s language. Myths are not explanatory texts but stories that establish a reality through their own unique language, where metaphor and metonymy bridge the gap between reality and symbol. Moreover, mythical events, situations, and characters follow laws distinct from those of the profane world, which are generally expressed in cause-effect relationships.
Many indigenous American myths recount the transformation of human beings into animals (reptiles, fish, mammals) and vice versa. The presence of a flood—the destruction of the world by water—is a universal theme in the mythologies of all times. What did Antolínez have in mind when he composed the myth? We do not know, but his intention to craft a narrative rooted in aboriginal culture is sincere, highlighting significant elements such as the initiation of young women upon reaching puberty, the importance of lagoons, and the “lord of the water,” a figure so popular in our oral tradition.
Additionally, the myth contains a clear opposition between the sleeping warriors and the awakened maiden, whose cavern-like eyes see only death—a clear allusion to the destruction of indigenous culture and its survival and supremacy in the symbolic form of a water-serpent deity.¨
Then adds another version of the same myth:
Now let us read the narration of a peasant and observe the complex interplay of language that oscillates between what is revealed and what remains hidden, without offering explanations:
“…the daughter of an Indian chief… She had a gold crown with a ribbon on top, which she only wore when walking along the shore of the lake (Lake Valencia). But one day, her father married her off to a distant chief, and she had to leave, never to return. The night before the maiden left, there was a storm like no other. The waters of the lake rose, and the nearby stilt houses were swept away. The lake’s enchantment—for this lake also had an enchantment—saw the blood of the wounded fall into its waters. It also saw the chief’s daughter standing by the water, here, on this very peninsula of Araguato.
The terror stood still, watching her, watching her, before leaving forever. The maiden stepped closer and closer until she entered the water up to her knees. The lightning illuminated her. She was wearing the gold crown with the ribbon on top. She raised both arms and removed it from her head. Then, she threw it with all her strength… it is a serpent over thirty meters long that moves from Las Brujitas to Rincón Grande, because only there, where the depth exceeds sixty meters, can it dwell.”
- - - - -
The book goes on to explain the complexities of the María Lionza religious cult, which is fascinating in itself. However, I didn’t know until reading this book that its origins are linked to flood and serpent myths. I thought it might be relevant to share here. Hope you enjoy it!