BEST OF: Archaeology
Another in the series of The Best Papers I've Ever Written. This one I like to call "Fast times with the Feathered Serpent". God I'm lame awesome. It is here because:
a) It's about a legendary snake-bird how cool is that!?
b) It's about ancient mayan mythology how cool is that?!
c) It was written for the Hottest Teacher I Ever Had and he liked it. How cool is that!?!
This one talks about the link between mayan writing and compound-form iconography (which is reserved for deities and other powerful figures), as well as commonalities between architectural forms and murals. I can't actually account for this one being any good academically, but it's kinda fun to look at the pretty pictures so why not just click the cut!
The Many Faces of Quetzalcóatl:
Sculptural Façade at the Temple of the Feathered Serpent
The Feathered Serpent, otherwise known as Quetzalcóatl, is a deity pervasive in the ritual and theological aspect of many ancient Mesoamerican cultures. He possesses a manifold character, and is known throughout the various cultures in which he is active as the creator god, the deity of wind, dawn, and the morning star. But at Teotihuacan, where his identity began to take shape very early on, what did Quetzalcóatl mean?
The Temple of the Feathered Serpent (Appendix 1), one of the largest and most magnificent structures at Teotihuacan, continues to be a mystery to those who study it. The façade of the pyramid is the talud/tablero, a trademark of Teotihuacano architecture, decorated with bas-relief sculpture and a repeating procession of magnificent, three-dimensional moulded heads. The bas-relief sculpture features slithering serpents running the length of the talud, accompanied by many moulded shells and other watery imagery. The inset tablero is decorated with another, thicker serpent motif terminating in a rattlesnake tail. This serpent is also flanked by moulded shells, and is punctuated by two heads, one that is unique to this temple and thus difficult to identify, and another that is arguably the head of Quetzalcóatl. Feathers or leaves surround his head like a halo, his snarling feline jaw lined with long pointed teeth (Appendix 2). This marvellous combination of characteristics defines the figure of Quetzalcóatl.
Appendix 1
In the Maya creation myth, the Popol Vuh, the Feathered Serpent is known as Gucumatz, and his story goes as such:
“Every seven days he ascended into the sky
And every seven days he followed the path
Every seven days he put on the nature
Of a serpent
And then he truly became a serpent
And every seven days he assumed the nature
Of an eagle
And then he truly became and eagle
Then of a jaguar
And he truly became a jaguar
Then of coagulated blood
And he was nothing else
Then coagulated blood” (Baldwin, 57)
This is an excellent example of the liminal character of Quetzalcóatl. He is at once a serpent, an eagle, and a jaguar; he is continually transforming and symbolically linking the species. He unites the elements, water, air and earth. “Von Winning suggests that the serpent with feathers represents the union or terrestrial and celestial elements in cosmology,” says Kathleen Berrin, in her book about feathered serpent imagery in the murals at Teotihuacan. Other scholars, such as George Kubler, go further in explaining the intricate union of meanings behind the Feathered Serpent by describing him as a “compound form”, one of many at Teotihuacan and in Mesoamerican iconography in general.
Appendix 2
Kubler explains the use of compound forms at Teotihuacan as a symbolic union of ideas. “Serpents, birds, and jaguars are rarely shown naturally; they are symbolically compounded. [They are] usually combined with other delineations of species whose relationship is symbolic or ritual. Examples are the serpent birds, double-bodied jaguars, and feathered jaguar-serpents... Thus the iconography of Teotihuacan advances in symbolic complication more than in naturalistic description” (Kubler 4). The artists at Teotihuacan were less interested in accurate representation of the forms they knew from nature than in compounding the already powerful associations and meanings with which those creatures had been loaded. “Simple figures are exceptional, being rare and occupying secondary or subordinate positions. Compounds are far more common and far more prominent. Simple figures usually appear in accessory positions such as the edges of speech scrolls, or the streams issuing from charismatic hands” (Kubler 7). Simple figures, like toads and birds, are common as decorative elements in mural painting throughout Mesoamerica, but it is clear that they serve a secondary function, and are subordinate to those figures that are the subject of the painting, often deities in the form of compound figures.
Accompanying the feathered serpent on the talud of the structure is the unadorned and unaltered image of a serpent as would be found in nature. Kubler offers an explanation of these strangely unelaborated figures, saying that they “may signify that the scene is meant to represent supernatural events in a celestial dimension” (Kubler 8). Snake borders are seen throughout Teotihuacan in murals such as the Great Goddess mural from the Tepantitla compound (Appendix 3). Like them, the façade’s talud functions as a contextualizing border, informing the interpretation of the figures depicted on the tablero.
Appendix 3
Why choose single-form snakes to elucidate the scene, when, according to both Kubler and Kathleen Berrin, they are so rare at Teotihuacan? “At Teotihuacan almost all serpents are feathered…Generally they are found on borders as framing devices and not featured as central deities” (Berrin 158). In keeping with Berrin’s statement, the Temple of the Feathered Serpent is an anomaly in the history of Quetzalcóatl iconography, because he is featured centrally in its imagery. But as to the implied subordinate position of the Feathered Serpent at Teotihuacan, Kubler would disagree, believing that compound forms (such as the feathered serpent) have a higher rank and are more pervasive than simple ones, “being the carriers of more meanings within the same outline, and relating more closely to the supernatural than to the sacrifices or petitions indicated by simple forms” (Kubler 7). With this in mind, it is possible that the single-form serpents are in this case used primarily as representatives of the celestial sphere to emphasize the importance of Quetzalcóatl and the presence of him in this sphere. The doubled image of flowing bodies along the talud and the tablero is indicative of a strong iconographic agenda geared toward underscoring the nature of the feathered serpent and his place in the natural world-that is, his involvement with those natural entities that flow and are constantly in flux, moving and transforming all the time: “Because in Mesoamerican thought the serpent is generally a positive symbol that is believed to be reborn every time it sheds its skin, it usually refers to cyclical renewal, transformation and continuity” (Berrin 57).
Transformation is emphasized in the Temple of the Feathered Serpent not only through serpent imagery, but also through the alternating heads that decorate the tablero. There are many theories as to what these three-dimensional moulded heads mean to the Temple, most of which discuss them as masks with which Quetzalcóatl decorates himself. Berrin describes them as being “related” to the feathered serpent, the one being unmistakably a serpent head, the other as “a hard-to-identify creature with a large upper snout, scaly skin, rings on the forehead, and a knot in its headdress. Its eyes are inlaid with obsidian” (Berrin 55). Scholars agree that this head is unique to the Temple, as it does not fit into any iconographic tradition very soundly. The rings described by Berrin have been at times interpreted as Tlaloc goggles, and indeed they do closely resemble the tradition of Tlaloc representation. What throws this theory off is the crocodile-like head, which has never before and never since been associated with that particular deity. This confusion aside, what does it mean that Quetzalcóatl is wearing these masks?
Kubler uses grammatical language to describe his ideas about interpreting iconographic representations. His approach assumes a linguistic purpose in all imagery in Mesoamerican art, and his interpretation of this Temple would not waver from this pattern. Though he does not deal with the Temple of the Feathered Serpent itself, he does speak directly to figures accompanying each other within the same panel or context, as do the two heads at the Temple, asking the viewer to interpret them in conjunction with one another, and examine how they define and alter each other. “The main possibilities are that one form precedes, implies, causes, or governs the other, if the forms are meant to be understood in some successive relation. If, however, a simultaneous relation is meant, the forms may be contrasting or similar, extensive or inclusive in relationship” (Kubler 7). This may be a strong basis on which to build a theory as to what the heads mean to the structure. In this case, the two heads occupy simultaneous positions of importance, and so by Kubler’s logic they must be interpreted as in the second case. Are they contrasting or similar? In their essential forms they are contrasting; the feline head is rounded and cavernous, surrounded by organic leaves, while the other, unidentifiable head is very robust and has a strong, rectilinear shape. But because archaeologists cannot agree on what the second head is supposed to represent, it is difficult to make solid assumptions about the meaning of this contrasting agenda.
Berrin believes that the Temple of the Feathered Serpent may have some relevance to calendrical notation, or an association with the passing of time. Today, the Temple is mostly destroyed, and so there is much speculation as to what it may have looked like in its original form: “It is estimated that if the pyramid was covered with such three-dimensional heads on all four sides it might have had about three hundred sixty-five heads in total (Marquina 1964, 88). While it is not known exactly what these heads mean, they may have expressed a concept of time. One reasonable suggestion is that the two heads refer to the alternation of rainy and dry seasons and that together they refer to the totality of the solar year (Caso and Bernal 1952, 114)” (Berrin 57). This interpretation is valid because many structures in Teotihuacan and at several other sites throughout Mesoamerica associate themselves with cyclical time through various architectural analogies. For example, the Temple of the Sun (Appendix 4) uses units of measurement that can be linked to the Mesoamerican 260 day calendar. Her supposition about seasonal cycles also makes sense when combined with Kubler’s theory. It is observable that the two heads represent alternating imagery, so it is very possible that the imagery of the Temple of the Feathered Serpent is related to alternating weather patterns associated with the agricultural calendar.
Appendix 4
Though Berrin’s theory associating these figures with the cosmological sphere is valid, it is not satisfactory in addressing all elements of this structure. Archaeologists speculate that this building, situated in the Ciudadela, held political importance to the governing forces of Teotihuacan. Mary Miller describes it as an “…elegant display of severe, frontal War Serpent headdresses floating atop the undulations of a Feathered Serpent. At the centre of a large compound called the Ciudadela, once perhaps the palace of an early charismatic ruler, the Temple of the Feathered Serpent celebrates and commemorates warfare. Recently, archaeologists have explored the structure and found over 100 skeletons, almost all victims of what must have been massive human sacrifice rituals, dedications that reveal war at the heart of society” (Miller 76-7). This explanation of the structure does not deal with the cyclical transformation narrative through which Berrin discusses the Temple, but is not necessarily at odds with it. Many meanings can and are conveyed through the singular image of the feathered serpent, including power in the political realm. However, political power at Teotihuacan was not solely attributable to success in warfare, as Miller would have us believe in her description of this very important political structure. It is also closely tied to economic achievement, as is demonstrated by the shells-an important trade good-found alongside the human sacrifices and embellishing the Temples façade, and of course religious authority. The cult of Quetzalcóatl flourished throughout the ancient Mesoamerican world, with roots in the Temple of the Feathered Serpent.
The Temple of Quetzalcóatl remains a mystery to the archaeologists who study it. Its broken remains can tell us only a small fraction of the narrative that the original architecture must have born. However, the undulating body of the legendary feathered serpent continues to intrigue and mesmerize, sprouting many theories as to what it meant to those who built it. As an icon of transformation and rebirth, Quetzalcóatl is one of the strongest symbols in ancient Mesoamerica, and through malleability of character and a metamorphic nature, continues to thrive in contemporary Mesoamerican religion today.
Bibliography
Baldwin, Neil. Legends of the Plumed Serpent: Biography of a Mexican God. PublicAffairs, New York: 1998.
Berrin, Kathleen. Feathered Serpents and Flowering Trees: Reconstructing the Murals of Teotihuacan. Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco: 1988.
Kubler, George. Studies in Pre-Columbian Art and Archaeology Number Four: The Iconography of the Art of Teotihuacan. Dumbarton Oaks Trustees for Harvard University, Washington, D.C: 1967.
Miller, Mary Ellen. The Art of Mesoamerica: From Olmec to Aztec. Thames and Hudson, London: 2006.
Boo yah.
a) It's about a legendary snake-bird how cool is that!?
b) It's about ancient mayan mythology how cool is that?!
c) It was written for the Hottest Teacher I Ever Had and he liked it. How cool is that!?!
This one talks about the link between mayan writing and compound-form iconography (which is reserved for deities and other powerful figures), as well as commonalities between architectural forms and murals. I can't actually account for this one being any good academically, but it's kinda fun to look at the pretty pictures so why not just click the cut!
The Many Faces of Quetzalcóatl:
Sculptural Façade at the Temple of the Feathered Serpent
The Feathered Serpent, otherwise known as Quetzalcóatl, is a deity pervasive in the ritual and theological aspect of many ancient Mesoamerican cultures. He possesses a manifold character, and is known throughout the various cultures in which he is active as the creator god, the deity of wind, dawn, and the morning star. But at Teotihuacan, where his identity began to take shape very early on, what did Quetzalcóatl mean?
The Temple of the Feathered Serpent (Appendix 1), one of the largest and most magnificent structures at Teotihuacan, continues to be a mystery to those who study it. The façade of the pyramid is the talud/tablero, a trademark of Teotihuacano architecture, decorated with bas-relief sculpture and a repeating procession of magnificent, three-dimensional moulded heads. The bas-relief sculpture features slithering serpents running the length of the talud, accompanied by many moulded shells and other watery imagery. The inset tablero is decorated with another, thicker serpent motif terminating in a rattlesnake tail. This serpent is also flanked by moulded shells, and is punctuated by two heads, one that is unique to this temple and thus difficult to identify, and another that is arguably the head of Quetzalcóatl. Feathers or leaves surround his head like a halo, his snarling feline jaw lined with long pointed teeth (Appendix 2). This marvellous combination of characteristics defines the figure of Quetzalcóatl.
Appendix 1
In the Maya creation myth, the Popol Vuh, the Feathered Serpent is known as Gucumatz, and his story goes as such:
“Every seven days he ascended into the sky
And every seven days he followed the path
Every seven days he put on the nature
Of a serpent
And then he truly became a serpent
And every seven days he assumed the nature
Of an eagle
And then he truly became and eagle
Then of a jaguar
And he truly became a jaguar
Then of coagulated blood
And he was nothing else
Then coagulated blood” (Baldwin, 57)
This is an excellent example of the liminal character of Quetzalcóatl. He is at once a serpent, an eagle, and a jaguar; he is continually transforming and symbolically linking the species. He unites the elements, water, air and earth. “Von Winning suggests that the serpent with feathers represents the union or terrestrial and celestial elements in cosmology,” says Kathleen Berrin, in her book about feathered serpent imagery in the murals at Teotihuacan. Other scholars, such as George Kubler, go further in explaining the intricate union of meanings behind the Feathered Serpent by describing him as a “compound form”, one of many at Teotihuacan and in Mesoamerican iconography in general.
Appendix 2
Kubler explains the use of compound forms at Teotihuacan as a symbolic union of ideas. “Serpents, birds, and jaguars are rarely shown naturally; they are symbolically compounded. [They are] usually combined with other delineations of species whose relationship is symbolic or ritual. Examples are the serpent birds, double-bodied jaguars, and feathered jaguar-serpents... Thus the iconography of Teotihuacan advances in symbolic complication more than in naturalistic description” (Kubler 4). The artists at Teotihuacan were less interested in accurate representation of the forms they knew from nature than in compounding the already powerful associations and meanings with which those creatures had been loaded. “Simple figures are exceptional, being rare and occupying secondary or subordinate positions. Compounds are far more common and far more prominent. Simple figures usually appear in accessory positions such as the edges of speech scrolls, or the streams issuing from charismatic hands” (Kubler 7). Simple figures, like toads and birds, are common as decorative elements in mural painting throughout Mesoamerica, but it is clear that they serve a secondary function, and are subordinate to those figures that are the subject of the painting, often deities in the form of compound figures.
Accompanying the feathered serpent on the talud of the structure is the unadorned and unaltered image of a serpent as would be found in nature. Kubler offers an explanation of these strangely unelaborated figures, saying that they “may signify that the scene is meant to represent supernatural events in a celestial dimension” (Kubler 8). Snake borders are seen throughout Teotihuacan in murals such as the Great Goddess mural from the Tepantitla compound (Appendix 3). Like them, the façade’s talud functions as a contextualizing border, informing the interpretation of the figures depicted on the tablero.
Appendix 3
Why choose single-form snakes to elucidate the scene, when, according to both Kubler and Kathleen Berrin, they are so rare at Teotihuacan? “At Teotihuacan almost all serpents are feathered…Generally they are found on borders as framing devices and not featured as central deities” (Berrin 158). In keeping with Berrin’s statement, the Temple of the Feathered Serpent is an anomaly in the history of Quetzalcóatl iconography, because he is featured centrally in its imagery. But as to the implied subordinate position of the Feathered Serpent at Teotihuacan, Kubler would disagree, believing that compound forms (such as the feathered serpent) have a higher rank and are more pervasive than simple ones, “being the carriers of more meanings within the same outline, and relating more closely to the supernatural than to the sacrifices or petitions indicated by simple forms” (Kubler 7). With this in mind, it is possible that the single-form serpents are in this case used primarily as representatives of the celestial sphere to emphasize the importance of Quetzalcóatl and the presence of him in this sphere. The doubled image of flowing bodies along the talud and the tablero is indicative of a strong iconographic agenda geared toward underscoring the nature of the feathered serpent and his place in the natural world-that is, his involvement with those natural entities that flow and are constantly in flux, moving and transforming all the time: “Because in Mesoamerican thought the serpent is generally a positive symbol that is believed to be reborn every time it sheds its skin, it usually refers to cyclical renewal, transformation and continuity” (Berrin 57).
Transformation is emphasized in the Temple of the Feathered Serpent not only through serpent imagery, but also through the alternating heads that decorate the tablero. There are many theories as to what these three-dimensional moulded heads mean to the Temple, most of which discuss them as masks with which Quetzalcóatl decorates himself. Berrin describes them as being “related” to the feathered serpent, the one being unmistakably a serpent head, the other as “a hard-to-identify creature with a large upper snout, scaly skin, rings on the forehead, and a knot in its headdress. Its eyes are inlaid with obsidian” (Berrin 55). Scholars agree that this head is unique to the Temple, as it does not fit into any iconographic tradition very soundly. The rings described by Berrin have been at times interpreted as Tlaloc goggles, and indeed they do closely resemble the tradition of Tlaloc representation. What throws this theory off is the crocodile-like head, which has never before and never since been associated with that particular deity. This confusion aside, what does it mean that Quetzalcóatl is wearing these masks?
Kubler uses grammatical language to describe his ideas about interpreting iconographic representations. His approach assumes a linguistic purpose in all imagery in Mesoamerican art, and his interpretation of this Temple would not waver from this pattern. Though he does not deal with the Temple of the Feathered Serpent itself, he does speak directly to figures accompanying each other within the same panel or context, as do the two heads at the Temple, asking the viewer to interpret them in conjunction with one another, and examine how they define and alter each other. “The main possibilities are that one form precedes, implies, causes, or governs the other, if the forms are meant to be understood in some successive relation. If, however, a simultaneous relation is meant, the forms may be contrasting or similar, extensive or inclusive in relationship” (Kubler 7). This may be a strong basis on which to build a theory as to what the heads mean to the structure. In this case, the two heads occupy simultaneous positions of importance, and so by Kubler’s logic they must be interpreted as in the second case. Are they contrasting or similar? In their essential forms they are contrasting; the feline head is rounded and cavernous, surrounded by organic leaves, while the other, unidentifiable head is very robust and has a strong, rectilinear shape. But because archaeologists cannot agree on what the second head is supposed to represent, it is difficult to make solid assumptions about the meaning of this contrasting agenda.
Berrin believes that the Temple of the Feathered Serpent may have some relevance to calendrical notation, or an association with the passing of time. Today, the Temple is mostly destroyed, and so there is much speculation as to what it may have looked like in its original form: “It is estimated that if the pyramid was covered with such three-dimensional heads on all four sides it might have had about three hundred sixty-five heads in total (Marquina 1964, 88). While it is not known exactly what these heads mean, they may have expressed a concept of time. One reasonable suggestion is that the two heads refer to the alternation of rainy and dry seasons and that together they refer to the totality of the solar year (Caso and Bernal 1952, 114)” (Berrin 57). This interpretation is valid because many structures in Teotihuacan and at several other sites throughout Mesoamerica associate themselves with cyclical time through various architectural analogies. For example, the Temple of the Sun (Appendix 4) uses units of measurement that can be linked to the Mesoamerican 260 day calendar. Her supposition about seasonal cycles also makes sense when combined with Kubler’s theory. It is observable that the two heads represent alternating imagery, so it is very possible that the imagery of the Temple of the Feathered Serpent is related to alternating weather patterns associated with the agricultural calendar.
Appendix 4
Though Berrin’s theory associating these figures with the cosmological sphere is valid, it is not satisfactory in addressing all elements of this structure. Archaeologists speculate that this building, situated in the Ciudadela, held political importance to the governing forces of Teotihuacan. Mary Miller describes it as an “…elegant display of severe, frontal War Serpent headdresses floating atop the undulations of a Feathered Serpent. At the centre of a large compound called the Ciudadela, once perhaps the palace of an early charismatic ruler, the Temple of the Feathered Serpent celebrates and commemorates warfare. Recently, archaeologists have explored the structure and found over 100 skeletons, almost all victims of what must have been massive human sacrifice rituals, dedications that reveal war at the heart of society” (Miller 76-7). This explanation of the structure does not deal with the cyclical transformation narrative through which Berrin discusses the Temple, but is not necessarily at odds with it. Many meanings can and are conveyed through the singular image of the feathered serpent, including power in the political realm. However, political power at Teotihuacan was not solely attributable to success in warfare, as Miller would have us believe in her description of this very important political structure. It is also closely tied to economic achievement, as is demonstrated by the shells-an important trade good-found alongside the human sacrifices and embellishing the Temples façade, and of course religious authority. The cult of Quetzalcóatl flourished throughout the ancient Mesoamerican world, with roots in the Temple of the Feathered Serpent.
The Temple of Quetzalcóatl remains a mystery to the archaeologists who study it. Its broken remains can tell us only a small fraction of the narrative that the original architecture must have born. However, the undulating body of the legendary feathered serpent continues to intrigue and mesmerize, sprouting many theories as to what it meant to those who built it. As an icon of transformation and rebirth, Quetzalcóatl is one of the strongest symbols in ancient Mesoamerica, and through malleability of character and a metamorphic nature, continues to thrive in contemporary Mesoamerican religion today.
Bibliography
Baldwin, Neil. Legends of the Plumed Serpent: Biography of a Mexican God. PublicAffairs, New York: 1998.
Berrin, Kathleen. Feathered Serpents and Flowering Trees: Reconstructing the Murals of Teotihuacan. Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco: 1988.
Kubler, George. Studies in Pre-Columbian Art and Archaeology Number Four: The Iconography of the Art of Teotihuacan. Dumbarton Oaks Trustees for Harvard University, Washington, D.C: 1967.
Miller, Mary Ellen. The Art of Mesoamerica: From Olmec to Aztec. Thames and Hudson, London: 2006.
Boo yah.