Goethe’s Alchemical Story, Part II:
Conclusion of the Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily
Third Episode
In this part, the Snake plays a central role in the events leading to the coniunctio -- the sacred marriage or hieros gamos. Right after the death of the Prince, she forms a protective circle around his corpse and takes her tail in her mouth, thus shielding his body from decay. She forms the alchemical symbol for death and rebirth, the uroboros. The polarities, represented by the head and the tail, turn into a circle of unity, the hen to pan ( ἕν τὸ πᾶν) -- All is One.
The aspect of protective, maternal power of the Snake as uroboros is reminiscent of the hermetically sealed vessel. The aspect of the uroboros as self-devouring tail-eater relates to the Snake’s own process of transformation, and more generally to the self-reflective, self-sacrificing activity within the soul of the seeker:
In the age-old image of the uroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was man himself... This ‘feedback’ process is at the same time a symbol of immortality, since it is said of the uroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself and gives birth to himself,
Jung wrote in Mysterium Coniunctionis.
The Snake, assuming leadership amidst the general confusion, orders the Old Woman to haste and find her husband, since only the light of his Lamp can prevent the corruption of the Prince’s body, once the sun has set. Just as the last rays of the sinking sun are disappearing behind the horizon, the Man with the Lamp comes gliding across the lake and joins the little group. Soon darkness sets in, but not only the Lamp and the Snake shine each in their own fashion, also the red veil of the Lily emits a soft glow, tingeing her pale cheeks and white gown with a rosy color -- the first sign of the rubedo, the final stage in the preparation of the Philosophers’ Stone.
Soon, the Old Woman returns with the Will-o’-the-wisps, and the company quietly waits for midnight, the propitious hour for the central mystery of initiation: the awakening from seeming death or unconsciousness to enlightenment and rebirth. Once the hour has come, the Man with the Lamp and his Wife place the body of the Youth into her basket which begins to emit a soft radiance; the company then sets off for the river, forming a strange procession of varying lights. The Snake leaves first, followed by the two Wisps; then comes the Old Woman with the basket hovering above her head; the Lily follows after, and the Old Man forms the rear, carrying his Lamp. Here, Goethe presents a lovely picture for us: a string of lights, gleaming and shimmering in various colors and intensity, set against the dark night sky. Maybe the lights are indicative of different stages of inner preparation and maturity.
When the procession reaches the river, they are amazed to see the beauty and brilliance of the bridge formed by the Snake. “On the upper side the clear circle marked itself sharp against the dark sky, but below, vivid beams were darting to the centre, and exhibiting the airy firmness of the edifice”, wrote Goethe. From the uroboros, the Snake has transformed herself into another common alchemical symbol: the circle or circulatio, expressing wholeness. It is often shown as a wheel with spokes radiating from a central axis, a symbol which Goethe used extensively in The Metamorphosis of Plants. Here, it evokes the philosopher and alchemist Thomas Vaughan’s vivid expression of this symbol:
To instruct thee then, this mystery is perfected when the Light in a suddain, miraculous coruscation strikes from the Center to the Circumference, and the Divine Spirit hath so swallowed up the body that it is glorified like the Sun and Moon in their splendor.
But the central and final task of the Snake is yet to come. After everybody has crossed the river, she once again takes on her natural form and draws a protective circle around the basket with the Youth. The Old Man asks her what she has decided, and she answers: “To sacrifice myself, rather than be sacrificed”. Without doubt, this must have been the fourth secret that she had whispered in his ear the day before; only her free decision, gained from the innermost depths of her being, allows the final outcome for which everybody is longing. The Old Man now asks Lily to touch the Snake with her left hand, and the body of the Prince with her right. The Snake is transformed into a circle of luminous jewels, and the Prince is restored to life; however, his spirit has not yet returned, and his eyes show no inner participation -- his transformation is not yet complete. As the Old Man has promised, he gathers up every one of the precious stones left from the Snake’s body and casts them into the river. Then he leads his companions in another procession, this time in reverse order, to the underground Temple where the culminating events will take place.
Final Episode
Through a cleft in the rocks, the Man with the Lamp guides his little group into the mountain until they stand before a huge bronze portal, locked with a golden lock. Only the two Wisps are able to open the Sanctuary, and when the Old Man asks them to come forward, they quickly lick away the bars and lock. Upon entering the Temple, the visitors bow low before the statues of the Kings, and a series of questions and answers ensues, concerning the purpose of their visit. The Old Man declares they have come to accompany the Kings on a journey into the world, because “the time is at hand”. Joyfully, the Lily Maiden embraces the Old Man, for she has now heard these words three times: the fulfillment of a prophecy about her deliverance.
At the same moment, the earth begins to move, and the Temple starts to glide underground, underneath the river, to the other bank ; it rises to the surface at exactly the spot where the hut of the Ferryman stands. The dome of the Temple lifts the cottage up, which then sinks slowly to the ground, covering the Old Man and the Prince. Distressed, the Maiden, now called a Princess, knocks at the door of the hut -- to no avail. Soon, however, the power of the Lamp within transforms the hut into solid silver, and even its shape begins to change: it turns into an ornate altar within the larger Temple. Out of this structure now steps the Young Prince, accompanied by the Old Man and the Ferryman who wears a short white robe and carries a silver rudder in his hand. The golden light of the Lamp and the silver rudder announce the soon-to-come coniunctio of the King and Queen, the alchemical marriage.
However, the Prince has yet to be prepared for his new rank by a set of ritual ceremonies, and the Fair Lily, eager to embrace her lover, has yet to wait a little longer. The Old Man steps between her and the Prince, and announces: “There are three which have rule on earth; Wisdom, Appearance and Strength”. With these words, the four Kings rise. The three representing alchemical metals -- gold, silver, and bronze -- symbolize the soul-forces of thinking, feeling, and willing, and also the tria prima, the three elements of the alchemists (salt, sulfur, and mercury) which constitute the triple perfection of the Stone: the union of body, soul, and spirit.
When the fourth King tries to rise, however, he only collapses into a shapeless heap. The Will-o’-wisps had licked out all the golden veins from his statue, so that he miserably crumbled. He was only a ‘mixed’ King; without a true integration of the elements, a lasting transformation into a higher stage is impossible.
The Young Prince, who has not yet lost his vacant look, is now led before the Bronze King. He receives a sword, symbol for powerful action, to be carried in his left; and his step becomes firmer. The Silver King gives him a scepter, with the words: “Feed the sheep''. This scepter confers the appearance of kingship, and also reminds of the responsibility of the ruler, in both inner and outer realms. The Prince’s power is softened, and he seems more gentle. From the Golden King, who greets him with a paternal gesture, the Prince receives an oaken garland, with the counsel: “Understand what is highest!” He bestows on the Prince the ability to see into the highest spiritual realms, and “his eyes gleamed with inexpressible spirit”.
Thus fully initiated, his first word is “Lily!” and he hastens to embrace his beloved. She has cast away her veil, and her cheeks “were tinged with the fairest, most imperishable red” -- the sign of the rubedo, the reddening color indicating the completion of the Great Work. The Prince and the Lily, now called King and Queen, are united in the alchemical marriage which joins the opposites in a permanent wholeness.
But the Young Prince and his bride are not the only couple to be transformed and united. The Old Woman, who had paid less attention to the events just related than to her ever-shrinking hand, had taken the advice of her husband and bathed in the river. He told her not to be afraid, “as all debts are now paid”. She returns as a young woman, and more beautiful than the waiting-maids of the Lily. She is delighted to see that her husband has been changed too, and appears as a young man. We are reminded of the rejuvenating qualities of the Philosophers’ Stone; equally, we notice a deep connection between the two couples. When the Temple started to move, the Lily clung to the Old Man, and the Old Woman held on to the Prince; we can assume that a complementary exchange of forces may have taken place. The husband and wife pledge their vows anew, and their relationship strengthens the union of the Young King and his Queen. In fact, Goethe may be hinting at the rare Quadruple Coniunctio, or union of the four elements (air, earth, fire, water), the Platonic unity of matter.
As it is now full daylight, the King and Queen and their following step outside of the Temple where they are met with a marvelous sight. In front of the Temple spreads a large square, and at its far end a stately bridge spans the river, wide enough to permit passage for two streams of carriages and riders as well as a multitude of foot-travelers. Through her sacrifice, the Snake has metamorphosed into a permanent bridge -- the universal symbol for the union of opposites. The peace and happiness of this scene is momentarily disturbed by the appearance of the Giant; he clumsily steps across the bridge, and his shadow threatens to create havoc amongst the many people on it. Once he reaches the square in front of the Temple, however, he metamorphoses into a “strong colossal statue, of reddish glittering stone”, and his shadow points to the hours which are marked on the ground in emblematic figures. Thus, the dark, unconscious will-forces of the soul are being used in a positive way by becoming securely grounded.
The final scene, just as the beginning of the story, once more belongs to the Will-o’-the wisps. The people in the square had been frightened by the Giant and overawed by the splendor of the Temple and their radiant King and Queen, but soon something distracts them: a shower of gold pieces seems to rain down from the sky. Thus, the Wisps disperse the material gold of the Composite King, and give it freely to all of humanity.
Does the Fairy Tale sound strange, other-worldly, too esoteric? Maybe the word “spirit” was mentioned too often for your taste. In the English language it can evoke discomfort for some, because it is associated with religion, in particular with Christianity. Let me assure you, though, that the German word for spirit, “Geist”, has a much broader connotation: it relates to thinking, the mind, consciousness, culture. There is even a science of spirit: “Geisteswissenschaft”; that’s the overall category for disciplines one studies at university, such as literature, philosophy, history, sociology, even political science. Broadly, it’s equivalent to what is taught at American colleges and universities under the umbrella of Humanities.
What Goethe writes about using images and allegories, and what Jung later develops into the scientific discipline of analytic psychology is the transformation of the human being. Body, mind, and soul; the inner world of the individual and the outer world that the senses perceive are ultimately ONE. We perceive them as separate; that’s a necessary step that human beings have to take in order to be able to interact with and function in the world. But the next step is also necessary: to become aware of the intricate connection between perceiver and the perceived, subject and object as it were, which ultimately reunites these two concepts.
Goethe wasn’t particularly Christian, but he had his beliefs, like we all do. Questions about life and death, what happens after we die, what is the meaning of life, do we have a free will or is everything causally inevitable – people either ponder such fundamental issues or readily accept answers offered by others, for example by organized religions. Personally, I strive to hold my beliefs as lightly as possible, correcting or discarding them when new evidence makes this necessary. Religions, on the other hand, demand belief and punish the non-believer with eternal damnation – a logical fallacy that offended me even as a kid. But back to Goethe! He believed in free will, but absolutely not in the way that some people refused to wear masks during the coronavirus pandemic, or others claim that a restriction of semi automatic rifles sales would curtail their personal freedom. Just the opposite.
Unlike non-human animals, we humans have the ability to say “No” to desires, impulses, likes and dislikes, and cravings. Something may feel good or taste good, but may be bad for me or for other beings. When I observe these feelings and look at the whole picture, at all the aspects involved, I can eventually make a decision which isn’t guided by my tastebuds or impulses.
In Goethe’s poem Blessed Longing, we read: “And as long as thou hast not mastered this; dying and coming into existence; thou art but a sad and gloomy guest on the dark earth”. This idea -- the union of the human soul with the higher self, which can only come about through a sacrifice of the lower nature of the human being, of the attachment to the sense- world -- Goethe wove again into his Fairy Tale, given shape through imaginative pictures. These images are just as powerful for today’s reader as when they were first written, because they stem from the true realm of imagination. Through it, the human soul gains access to true wisdom, and is able to perceive the living, archetypal forms behind the perceptible world of nature. It is with this kind of vision that Goethe crafted his Fairy Tale, guiding us to a deep understanding of the potential metamorphosis of the human soul.