The Dictionary of Symbols
If all symbols are really functions and signs of things
imbued with energy, then the serpent or snake is, by analogy, symbolic of energy
itself—of force pure and simple; hence its ambivalence and multivalencies. Another reason for its great variety of symbolic meaning derives from the consideration that these meanings may relate either to the serpent as a whole or to any of
its major characteristics—for example, to its sinuous movements, its common
association with the tree and its formal analogy with the roots and branches of the
tree, the way it sheds its skin, its threatening tongue, the undulating pattern of its
body, its hiss, its resemblance to a ligament, its method of attacking its victims by coiling itself round them, and so on. Still another explanation lies in its varying
habitat: there are snakes which inhabit woods, others which thrive in the desert,
aquatic serpents and those that lurk in lakes and ponds, wells and springs. In India, snake cults or cults of the spirit of the snake are connected with the
symbolism of the waters of the sea. Snakes are guardians of the springs of life and
of immortality, and also of those superior riches of the spirit that are symbolized
by hidden treasure (17). As regards the West, Bayley has suggested that the
snake, since its sinuous shape is similar to that of waves, may be a symbol of the
wisdom of the deeps (4) and of the great mysteries. Yet, in their multiplicity and
as creatures of the desert, snakes are forces of destruction, afflicting all those who
have succeeded in crossing the Red Sea and leaving Egypt (57); in this sense, they
are connected with the ‘temptations’ facing those who have overcome the limitations of matter and have entered into the realm of the ‘dryness’ of the spirit. This
explains why Blavatsky can say that, physically, the snake symbolizes the seduction of strength by matter (as Jason by Medea, Hercules by Omphale, Adam
by Eve), thereby providing us with a palpable illustration of the workings of the
process of involution; and of how the inferior can lurk within the superior, or the
previous within the subsequent (9). This is borne out by Diel, for whom the
snake is symbolic not of personal sin but of the principle of evil inherent in all
worldly things. The same idea is incorporated into the Nordic myth about the
serpent of Midgard (15). There is a clear connexion between the snake and the
feminine principle. Eliade observes that Gresmann (Mytische Reste in der
Paradieserzahlung, in Archiv f. Rel. X, 345) regarded Eve as an archaic Phoenician
goddess of the underworld who is personified in the serpent (although a better
interpretation would be to identify it with the allegorical figure of Lilith, the
enemy and temptress of Eve). In support of this, Eliade points to the numerous
Mediterranean deities who are represented carrying a snake in one or both of their
hands (for example, the Greek Artemis, Hecate, Persephone), and he relates these
to the finely sculpted Cretan priestesses in gold or ivory, and to mythic figures
with snakes for hair (Medusa the Gorgon, or the Erinyes). He goes on to mention
that in Central Europe there is a belief that hairs pulled out from the head of a
woman under the influence of the moon will be turned into snakes (17). The
serpent (or snake) was very common in Egypt; the hieroglyph which corresponds phonetically to the letter Z is a representation of the movement of the
snake. Like the sign of the slug, or horned snake (phonetically equivalent to F),
this hieroglyph refers to primigenial and cosmic forces. Generally speaking, the
names of the goddesses are determined by signs representing the snake—which is
tantamount to saying that it is because of Woman that the spirit has fallen into
matter and evil. The snake is also used, as are other reptiles, to refer to the
primordial—the most primitive strata of life. In the Book of the Dead (XVII), the
reptiles are the first to acclaim Ra when he appears above the surface of the waters of Nou (or Nu or Nun). The demonic implications of the serpent are
exemplified in Tuat, whose evil spirits are portrayed as snakes; however, these—
like the vanquished dragon—may also take on a beneficent form as forces which
have been mastered, controlled, sublimated and utilized for the superior purposes
of the psyche and the development of mankind, and in this sense they correspond
to the goddesses Nekhebit and Uadjit (or Buto). They also become an Uraeus—
the same thing happens in the symbolism of the Kundalini—constituting the
most precious ornament of the royal diadem (19).
As we have said, it is the basic characteristics of the snake which have
determined its symbolic significances. To quote Teillard’s definition of the snake,
it is: ‘An animal endowed with magnetic force. Because it sheds its skin, it
symbolizes resurrection. Because of its sinuous movement’ (and also because its
coils are capable of strangling) ‘it signifies strength. Because of its viciousness, it
represents the evil side of nature’ (56). Its ability to shed its skin greatly impressed ancient writers: Philo of Alexandria believed that when the snake shakes
off its skin it likewise shakes off its old age, that it can both kill and cure and that
it is therefore the symbol and attribute of the aggressive powers, positive and
negative, which rule the world. (This is a Gnostic and Manichean idea of Persian
provenance.) He decided finally that it is the ‘most spiritual of animals’. Jung has
pointed out that the Gnostics related it to the spinal cord and the spinal marrow,
an excellent image of the way the unconscious expresses itself suddenly and
unexpectedly with its peremptory and terrible incursions (31). He adds that,
psychologically, the snake is a symptom of anguish expressive of abnormal stirrings
in the unconscious, that is, of a reactivation of its destructive potentiality. This is
directly comparable to the significance of the serpent of Midgard in Norse mythology. In the Völuspa it is proclaimed that the deluge will commence when the
serpent awakens to destroy the universe (31). For Zimmer, the serpent is the
lifeforce which determines birth and rebirth and hence it is connected with the
Wheel of Life. The legend of Buddha tells how the serpent wound itself round his
body seven times (as in the effigies of the Mithraic Cronos), but, since it could
not crush him, it turned into a youth bowing low before Gautama (60).
The connexion of the snake with the wheel is expressed in graphic form in the
Gnostic symbol of the Ouroboros, or serpent biting its own tail; half of this
mythic being is dark and the other half light (as in the Chinese Yang-Yin symbol),
which clearly illustrates the essential ambivalence of the snake in that it pertains
to both aspects of the cycle (the active and the passive, the affirmative and the
negative, the constructive and the destructive). Wirth comments that the ‘ancient
serpent is the prop of the world, providing it with both materials and energy, unfolding as reason and imagination, and also as a force of the darkness’ (59). The
snake was an important symbol for the Gnostics, and especially for the so-called
Naassene sect (from naas—snake). Hippolytus, criticizing this doctrine, asserted that the snake was said to live in all objects and in all beings. This brings us
to the Yoga concept of the Kundalini or the snake as an image of inner strength.
Kundalini is represented symbolically as a snake coiled up upon itself in the form
of a ring (kundala) (29), in that subtle part of the organism corresponding to the
lower extremity of the spinal column; this, at any rate, is the case with the
ordinary man. But, as a result of exercises directed towards his spiritualization—
Hatha Yoga, for instance—the snake uncoils and stretches up through wheels
(chakras) corresponding to the various plexuses of the body until it reaches the
area of the forehead corresponding to the third eye of Shiva. It is then, according
to Hindu belief, that man recovers his sense of the eternal (28). The symbolism
here probably relates to an ascending force, rising up, that is, from the area
governed by the sexual organ up to the realm of thought—an interpretation which
it is also possible to justify by simple reference to the symbolism of level, taking
the heart as central. In other words, the symbol denotes ‘sublimation of the
personality’ (Avalon, The Serpent Power). Jung has noted that the custom of
representing transformation and renovation of figures of snakes constitutes a
well-documented archetype; and he suggests that the Egyptian Uraeus is the
visible expression of the Kundalini on a higher plane (32). There are also various
rites which accord with this concept of progressive elevation. The progress through
the six chakras—there is in fact a seventh, but it is unnamed and (like the central
point of certain mandala-like patterns) is not represented visually—may be regarded as analogous to climbing up the terraces of the ziggurat or mounting the
steps pertaining to the seven metals in the Mithraic ritual (11). Apart from the
circular (and cosmic) position it tends to take up, and the quality of completeness
which this implies, the snake is frequently related to other symbols. The most
common of these is the tree, which, being unitary, may be said to correspond to
the masculine principle, in which case the ophidian would represent the feminine.
The tree and the serpent are, in mythology, prefigurations of Adam and Eve.
Furthermore, by analogy, we also have here a situation of symbolic Entanglement—the snake curled round the tree (or round the staff of Aesculapius)—and
a symbolic image of moral dualism. Diel, who tends to favour this kind of interpretation, suggests that the snake coiled round the staff or club of the god of
medicine recalls the basic, Biblical symbol of the Tree of Life encircled by the
snake and signifying the principle of evil; the pattern here points to the close
relationship between life and corruption as the source of all evil. Diel goes on to suggest that it is this subversion of the spirit that brings about the death of the
soul, and that this is what medicine must, in the first place, set out to combat (15).
Now, the opposite to the encircling (or triumphant) snake is the crucified
snake, as it is to be found among the figures included in Abraham le Juif (Paris,
Bibl. Nat. Ms. Fr. 14765, of the 16th century) (32). This figure of the reptile
nailed to a cross—or the chthonian and feminine principle vanquished by the
spirit—is also represented mythically by the victory of eagle over serpent. Heinrich
Zimmer recalls that, in the Iliad, an eagle appears to the Greeks, carrying a
wounded snake in its claws. The seer Calchas saw this as an omen portending the
triumph of the Greeks (the masculine and patriarchal order of the Aryans subduing the predominantly feminine and matriarchal principle of Asia) (60). Since all
struggle is a form of ‘conjunction’ and therefore of love, it is hardly surprising that
man should have created a synthesis of opposing powers—heaven and earth—in
the image of the ‘plumed serpent’, the most notable symbol of pre-Columbian
America. This serpent has feathers on its head, in its tail and sometimes on its
body. Quetzalcoatl is another androgynous symbol of this kind (41). The symmetrical placing of two serpents, as in the caduceus of Mercury, is indicative of an
equilibrium of forces, of the counterbalancing of the cowed serpent (or sublimated power) by the untamed serpent, so representing good balanced by evil,
health by sickness. As Jung has shrewdly observed, this much-used image is an
adumbration of homoeopathy—a cure effected by what caused the ailment. The
serpent therefore becomes the source of the healing of the wound caused by the
serpent. This is why it could serve as a symbol of St. John the Evangelist (32) and
appear in association with a chalice.
The different forms which the serpent may take are not numerous. The seaserpent seems simply to emphasize the integration of the symbolism of the
unconscious with that of the abyss (9). If it has more than one head, this merely
serves to add to the basic symbolism, the extra significance corresponding to the
particular number of heads it is given. The dragon or the serpent with seven heads
occurs often in legends, myths and folktales simply because seven represents
multiplication of unity and locates the reptile among the essential orders of the
cosmos. The seven-headed serpent partakes of the symbolism of the seven Directions of Space, the seven days of the week, and the seven planetary gods, and
has a bearing upon the seven sins (9). The three-headed serpent refers to the three
principles of the active, the passive and the neutral. In alchemy, the winged
serpent represents the volatile principle, and the wingless the fixed principle. The
crucified serpent denotes the fixation of the volatile and also sublimation (as in
the Prometheus myth). Alchemists also saw in the serpent an illustration of ‘the feminine in Man’ or his ‘humid essence’, relating the reptile to Mercury (57) as
the androgynous god who—like Shiva—was doubtless endowed with a tendency
towards both good and evil (an aspect also portrayed by the Gnostics in their
twin serpents called Agathodaemon and Kakodaemon) (9). There are also serpents of unusual aspect—the snake with a sheep’s head, for instance, in reliefs on
certain Gallo-Roman sepulchres. In view of the favourable symbolic sense of the
sheep (connected with Aries, spring, initiation and fire), this adaptation implies a
degree of spiritualization (16). Finally, according to Schneider, the sacrificed
serpent is the symbolic equivalent of the swan’s neck and of the swan itself (and
it is by the swan that the hero is wafted heavenwards, plucking away upon his
harp) (50). That is to say, the sacrifice of the serpent (as a life-force) makes it
possible to accept death gratefully (like the swan) and to soar up to higher
regions. Father Heras has suggested that the snake is symbolic of fertility and
destruction and that it is in this sense that it appears on the menhir of Kernuz
(Finistère). It appears in opposition to the arrow in the effigy of the horned god
of Cerdeña (with another head on top alluding to the symbolism of the Gemini).