• Pablo A. Martín Bosch. "ARITZ".
• 15/ 10/ 2001

Sections:

Measuring Sun Time.

Measuring Time by the Moon.

The Solstices: St. John's Day and Christmas.

St. Peter's Day.

The Equinoxes: St. Michael's Day.

St. James' Day and St. George's Day.

St. Ann's Day, The Assumption and Our Lady of the Snows.

Movable feasts: Easter and 'Carnaval'.

Conclusions.

Measuring Sun Time

Since the earliest times, man has always been fascinated by the possibility of measuring time. Monitoring the length of the days and the nights, the months and the seasons, and even of the years was not simply a matter of cultural interest; it was vitally necessary. People needed to know as precisely as possible when to expect the times of change, when the game they hunted departed and returned and when crops would grow or fail.

In this sense, the day and its duration were possibly the first yardsticks used to calculate these changes. Day and night allowed human activities to be structured according to two opposing parameters: different activities belong either to the day or the night, and according to popular Basque folklore the two should not be mixed; otherwise the inhabitants of the night might seize the day and vice versa. Witches and spirits disappear into the bowels of the earth at sunrise, and any humans lost at night are held captive and made to perform a thousand arduous feats before being released the next morning. Day and Night emerge as opposing symbols, so that Zeus-the god who inhabited the sky and controlled thunder and lightning-feared no one but Nyx, the dark night, who continuously pursued him.

But day and night are not always of the same length: at times one is victorious and at times the other. This issue was to give rise to a host of philosophical, political and scientific discourses in western European, at least from the seventh century CE on. And the subject has survived down to the present day.

In order to ascertain the social time to be dedicated to any activity, whether it belonged to the daytime or the night time, man only had to look at the predominant light in the sky, the sun or the moon: each one orders all the senses in its domain.

This concept, apparently so simple to grasp, nonetheless caused great difficulties of interpretation among the people who did not have access to the knowledge we possess today. Authors such as Mircea ELIADE have pointed to the pre-eminence of sun figures in hunting cultures, whereas farmers appear to have focused more on lunar cosmologies. Hunters were more dependent on the heat that their prey followed in its search for food, from South to North and vice versa. The animals sought areas of forage, and this grew in greater abundance where the sun shone strongest. Consequently, hunters followed the sun, which gave them their food, and so they saw it as a god. And in these hunting societies it was the men-in the most restrictive sense of the word-who brought the food home and, who consequently wielded not only economic power, but also political, social and, on occasions, religious power (except in the case of Siberian Shamanism where women had greater power).

At the risk of oversimplifying the situation, the Mediterranean area may be said to have learnt of arable and livestock farming before its northern neighbours. Such a culture tends to stress the figure of the Earth, which is generally represented as a woman with an emphasis on the features thought to embody fertility: large buttocks and breasts, as found in European Venuses. But like woman, the Earth has certain cycles that have been made to coincide naturally and culturally with the lunar cycles. As a result, Woman, Fertility, Night and Moon coincide in the same semantical field.

We need not dwell on the issue of whether this fecundity required the act of the male: this relationship was not commonly understood in primitive societies, and indeed a mythical or magic tale was often given to explain the act of conception. The woman was in charge of begetting and caring for children in all known traditional societies, and until very recently the man generally played no relevant role in this sphere. It is, however worthwhile noting that the concept of the male being unnecessary for conception (as is the case in Galician mythology where spirits come across certain rivers and penetrate the woman's vagina; and in Basque mythology, where contact with rocks, crags or stones is a failsafe way for the woman to become pregnant, or failing that, to find a sweetheart during the following year), may be linked to a belief in the Great Mothers of Nature. These figures required no contact with the male to become mothers, and were virgins. They are, then virgin mothers-mothers of the divinity and virgins for lack of a male. It is hardly surprising, then that Catholic dogma regarding the Virgin Mary should have been so widely accepted in an area that venerated the Great Goddesses, nor that the it was subsequently rejected in northern Europe, in the area which worshipped male gods.

Measuring Time by the Moon

We have already seen that it is extremely difficult to determine the length of the day, from sunrise to sunset, as this span changes continuously, from its maximum duration at the time of the summer solstice, to its shortest length in midwinter. We shall examine this subject in greater detail below.

Lunar cycles, however are apparently more regular and it is hardly surprising that the moon was used as a measure of time before the sun. Every twenty-eight days there is a full moon, a waning quarter, a waxing quarter, etc. The different quarters of the moon can be used to determine when different jobs should be performed.

Many societies which we would now view as "primitive" used the lunar calendar to measure time. Even today, in Moslem areas, it is used to mark Ramadan, and the moon still has an influence on the Christian calendar too, marking the date of Easter and thus, by extension, of the Shrovetide Carnival.

In Basque this is reflected in the word for month, ilbetea or ilabete, which means "full moon".

The moon, then, was the incarnation of change, of the month, of night, of life and of death, and as such, the final home of the dead: the "light of the dead" (hillargi).

But such a system takes us no further than the twenty-eight day month, and fails to explain seasonal changes in weather. In addition, if we use only the lunar calendar we crop up against typical variations such as those in Muslim society where Ramadan moves back by about a fortnight every year.

The Solstices: St. John's Day (23rd - 24th June) and Christmas (24th - 25th December)

Having clearly defined the duration of the lunar month, a number of philosophers set about collating the two calendars, solar and lunar. For this they needed to know exactly the maximum and minimum length of the day. This task was made easy with the invention of the gnomon, attributed to Anaximander of Miletus, around the seventh century BCE. This sun dial clearly indicates the maximum length (summer solstice) and minimum length (winter solstice) of the sun's path.

We can understand the "scientific" reasons for these occurrences, but man still needed a symbolic or religious explanation.

Anthropologists of the stature of J. G. FRAZER indicate that the summer solstice, St. John's Day, in some way anticipates its winter counterpart, and it is therefore logical that this day should be dedicated to the saint who heralded the coming of Christ. The St. John's Day rituals and associated rites act as a symbolic preamble to the coming of Christ, which occurs around the winter solstice, close to the 21st of December.

The winter solstice, traditionally celebrated in or around to the 21st of December, and in Christian calendars on the night of the 24th to the 25th, marks the shortest day. In a way, the sun could be said to be born on this date, and the Christian feast is therefore a reworking of the pagan ritual in a different guise.

Within the modern Basque Country (divided up between seven provinces, two states and three administrative regions), we can find rituals associated with fire, such as the burning of Yule logs or "Gabon Zuzi", whose ash is later used in a variety of ceremonies to protect the cattle or home.

There are also rituals linked to water, such as the gathering of water from different springs at midnight, either at Christmas or on New Year's Eve.

This is also a time for family celebrations, for gatherings of relations or neighbours at large meals. And it is a time of gifts. But above all, it is a Christianised version of the celebration of the sun's birth at a time when it is at its most defenceless. In Gipuzkoa, the promise of days of plenty ahead is symbolised by the Olentzaro, (or Olentzero or Onentzaro), a good-natured coal man, with a sooty face, bearing a sack full of gifts, and in the Pyrenees-especially in the east-by the Cagón log, containing a hoard of presents.

The winter solstice and the days closest to the Nativity of Our Lord in the Christian calendar, are represented by a series of actions associated with the birth of Christ, with the timeless excitement of children and summary trials of the year gone by.

Six months later, the summer solstice is celebrated, when the sun is at its zenith and just beginning its decline. In the Christian calendar, the festival is linked to the figure of St. John, the herald of the coming of Christ the Saviour. It was St. John the Baptist who initially refused to baptise Jesus since he himself was a mere mortal whereas Christ was the Son of God. Jesus, however, ordered John to baptise Him and he finally consented.

During the St. John's Day festivities, and nearby dates, different peoples have also chosen to celebrate rituals that are similar-though different-to those of Christmas. The winter fire was small, just like the new-born child, but in summer it is huge, and large communal bonfires are built, representing the maximum strength of the sun (although this practise has become less common in recent years).

The logs and trees which during winter were employed for healing animals and blessing the home are now used collectively and socially to cure hernias (Asturias, Cantabria, the Basque Country, Navarre, Aragon, etc.), or, interwoven, to invoke new love.

Water, too, plays a fundamental role. People decorate springs, take special baths and walk barefoot or naked across the morning dew. The water falling from the eaves of the roofs is used to baptise stillborn infants, as Josemiel de BARANDIARAN and others mention.

Such is the benign power of the sun over all the night-time forces of evil that we are told that dragons remain sleeping throughout these events and it is possible to rescue princesses and other enchanted female spirits from their lairs provided the ritual is properly followed (Galicia, Asturias, Cantabria, Basque Country, etc.).

The festivities of St. John's Day and adjoining days represent, then, an almost complete victory of good over evil, of day over night. In traditional folklore, however, this victory is never complete: after the time of plenty must come the darkness once more.

Dances linked to the summer solstice represent, in one way or another, the victory of good over evil.

St. Peter's Day (29th of June)

The feast of St. Peter, on the 29th of June, comes close on the heels of St. John's Day, and indeed in some villages the solstice celebrations have not yet concluded by this date. At the same time, it has similarities with the May rituals, with the Maypole, and also with St. James' Day, which it precedes: the fishermen's guilds that have the apostle as their patron, make up their accounts and change "Mayordomo" (president) on his feast day. We can see examples of this in many coastal villages, such as Lekeitio, where the "Kaixarranka" dance is performed on a chest formerly used to keep the guild's account books.

Although he was a fisherman, St. Peter, is not only the patron saint of seafarers: inland towns too, such as Berritz in the Durango area of Bizkaia, also venerate him as their protector. Perhaps the fact that this feast-day comes halfway between St. John's Day and St. James' Day may explain why sword dances are performed on this day, as they are in some coastal towns in Galicia; or perhaps it is because the guilds are closed societies, and the dance is in some obscure sense a sort of initiation rite.

A. MONTESINO, in his Fiestas Populares of Cantabria, Vol. I (Ed. Tantín, Santander, 1984) sees a relationship between the St. Peter's Day rituals and those of the expulsion of the malign spirits using fire, the lunar rites associated with the night, and the rite of passage, symbolised by changing sides, tests of physical resistance, the role of elder women, representatives of the sea itself, and the steps of the dancers of Comillas, symbolising seamen and the sea.

It is interesting to see that the structure of the dances described by MONTESINO coincides, almost exactly, with those performed in Berritz, with the meeting of the dancers, the "planting" of the Donianeatxa or St. John's Day tree, the men's dances, and the conclusion in a mixed social dance. The basic difference lies in the fact that Berritz is not on the coast. Here, however, the dance may derive from a rite of passage of some other sort of guild.

E. GOMEZ PELLÓN and G. COMA also analyse the St. Peter's Day ritual in Asturias (Fiestas y Rituales de Asturias. Período Estival), and conclude that the 29th of June, linked to the 24th, "has as its background the epigon of a seasonal initiation rite that is still renewed in lesser form on other dates and belongs to the commemorative cycle of exaltation of cosmic-plant life whose roots lie in historical periods very far from our own". This is a time for decorating wells and windows; for building large bonfires (rozu), for planting maypoles, for threatening saints that they will be hurled into the sea or burnt if they do not respond favourably to the entreaties of those they are charged with protecting, as happens in Lekeitio. It is a time of dances dedicated to abundance and fertility.

Many writers have sought to associate the image of St. James and even St. Michael to knightly ideals, consequently viewing the dances dedicated to these saints as war dances. We can now see, however, that their closest relationship is with arable and livestock farming and fishing-in other words, with food. We should not forget that fertility rites were also addressed to Mars, the god of war.

The Equinoxes: St. Michael's Day (8th May, 29th September and 16th October)

If the solstices mark the maximum and minimum duration of sunlight, it is clear that there must be two dates on which night and day are of equal length. These are what we call the equinoxes. On the Spring equinox (21st March) and the Autumn equinox (21st September), we can expect to find symbolic dates or landmarks expressing a confrontation between the benign forces of day and the evil forces of night.

At a symbolic level we can see that in the Christian calendar, the 29th of September celebrates St. Michael's victory over the Devil, and there are also references to another St. Michael whose feast day was celebrated on dates close to the spring equinox.

The struggle between good and evil, between light and dark, may very well be represented in the battle between the Dragon of Chaos and the Saviour Archangel: it is the war between St. Michael and Herensuge, between the saving and civilising hero and the unknown forces of the underworld, represented as a malevolent being covered in scales (water), that lives in caves (earth), belches fire from its mouth (fire) and can fly away to the "red seas", or itxasgorrieta (air). It is also seen in the fight between the archangel and the giant Gargano-or Gargantúa and Gargamella-who in Basque folklore is associated with Basajaun and Basandere, and, by extension, with Torto, Jentil, Antxo, etc...

It is not surprising, therefore, that on the dates close to the two St. Michael's Days, at the beginning of spring and autumn, we see a representation in war dances and rituals, of a fierce battle between the forces of good and evil. This was recreated-somewhat naively, in our opinion-in the new "San Migelen Ezpatadantza" dance in Arretxinaga.

Santiago DE LA VORÁGINE, in La Leyenda Dorada, tells us of the various apparitions and favours attributed to the Archangel. The first story concerns a cowherd who, according to popular folklore, lost an ox on the summit of Mount Gargano. When he found the beast, he wanted to kill it with a poisoned arrow, but the arrow turned around in mid-air and killed the unlucky bowman. According to the legend, it was the hand of no less than the general of the heavenly forces that intervened. St. Michael thus appears as a defender of cattle. We should also stress the symbolic relationship between Gargano (or Gargan, Gargantúa etc.) and the "Carnaval" or Shrovetide festivals, which fall close to the spring equinox. In "El Carnaval", Claude GAIGNEBET tells us that Gargano was born out of the left ear of his mother Gargamella, who could not bear him through the more conventional channel so blocked up was she with excrement after the vast pre-Lenten feasting. The baby emerged into the world crying out for wine.

On other occasion, according to the same author, some thieves had hidden a bull in a cave (this is reminiscent of certain Basque legends related to Mari, the Great Nature Goddess, and the treasure hidden in the cave of Gorbeia, in Bizkaia, guarded over by a huge fire-spitting bull, which also feature other imaginary characters, such as dragons, giants, "lamiak" (witches), etc.). Having recovered the cow, the Archangel was once again obliged to intervene, sending a strong man to remove the crags that prevented a church from being built on the site. In the Basque Country, such feats are generally attributed to the Jentilak, Moruak, Lamiñak, and other similar spirits.

The author also relates the story of a pregnant woman who went to the island of Tumba on the 16th of October (which the author tells us was the former date of the saint's feast day). She fell into the water but was not drowned, for St. Michael helped her to return safely to the surface after she had borne a child in the sea. This may tie in with certain Basque beliefs and tales about the way the lamiak, or witches, gave birth.

He also tells us that St. Michael appeared before St. Gregory the Pope to announce the end of a plague that had been devastating Rome. As a result, a sanctuary was built in his honour and the 8th of May was named as his saint's day. We therefore have at least three separate days dedicated to the archangel: the 8th of May, the present 29th of September and the 16th of October.

Our guide also tells us that near Constantinople a church was dedicated to St. Michael on the site of a former temple to the goddess Vesta, the virgin in charge of caring for the sacred fire and for the stability of the cosmos, in whose temples cures were performed.

St. Michael, then, has something to tell us about life and death, not only on a human scale, but also in the universe as a whole: he joins the fight between day and night; he is the incarnation of the equinox and of the desired triumph of Nature.

We can see that in the figure of St. Michael various significations overlap. He is the warrior, the head of the celestial troops fighting against Lucifer, against Evil and against Satan, represented as a dragon, but he is also the spiritual guide, the psychopomp and psychagogue who shows the way to heavenly paradise, overcoming the pagan Hermes who was also a healer. This gives us a better understanding of two of the interpretations that have been given for the symbolism of the dances performed with weapons in his honour.

The St. Michael's Day in May was the date on which cattle had to be led to their mountain pastures (Eloy GÓMEZ PELLÓN and Gema COMA GONZALES, Fiestas de Asturias, Caja de Ahorros de Asturias, 1985, p. 22), while the autumn St. Michael's Day marked a time of fairs after the return of the herds from the common lands. Any ritual performed on dates close to St. Michael's Day should therefore be interpreted in this light. We should also take into account how the Archangel has been represented in Basque folklore. However similar they may seem to tales from the rest of Europe in the versions collected by Santiago DE LA VORÁGINE and other authors, each local tale can demonstrate the specific characteristics of each territory and give us new clues for interpretation.

Josemiel De BARANDIARAN, the great compiler of the magic lore of the Basque-speaking area, tells us of the sanctuary of St. Michael in Excelsis. It stands close to the frontiers of Navarre, Gipuzkoa and Araba, in an area with a predominantly shepherd economy, where there are numerous megalithic monuments. Indeed the very name Aralar would appear to derive from Ara and Larra, hence "the field of the altar", and beneath the foundations of the present church there appear to be the ruins of former Arab and Roman temples.

The legend is very widespread in Europe. It tells how a mediaeval knight-in this case Teodosio of Goñi-who, having accidentally killed his parents, is made to perform some severe penance, which eventually leads him to the top of Mount Aralar. There he finds a young maiden, about to be devoured by a dragon. The knight promises to help the unfortunate girl, but when the monster appears, he is forced to invoke St. Michael the Archangel, who descends from the sky, severing the heads of the evil beast and freeing the penitent from his labours.

On other occasion the person under threat is the Lord of Zaro, who throws a young bull's skin full of gunpowder inside the monster; in Arrasate-Mondragón it is a blacksmith who kills the dragon, while in the variation told in Orduña it is a little boy. However, though the legend may have been more popular at some times that others, there can be no doubt that it is based on beliefs which go back a long way before the coming of Christianity.

Finally, St. Michael's Day also involves the social coming and going of a very particular group, the zagales or young shepherds' helpers. In other words, the various St. Michael's Days act as symbolic milestones, establishing the status occupied by each individual. St. Michael's Day is a landmark in a rite of passage.

• St. Michael leads the heavenly troops in their fight against Lucifer or Satan.
• St. Michael takes on the dragon (Herensuge, Iraunsuge).
• St. Michael is a Christianised version of Hermes - Mercury.
• St. Michael is Psychagogue.
• St. Michael is Psychopomp.
• St. Michael is the intermediary between the Sky and the Earth.
• St. Michael has healing powers.
• St. Michael has a temple in Constantinople built on the site of a former temple dedicated to Vesta, with a circular plan (the temple in Xemein is hexagonal, with a very large natural dolmen).
• St. Michael's Day is celebrated in May, September and October.
• St. Michael watches over the cattle in Gargano.
• Gargan or Gargantúa is related to wine and the Shrovetide carnival.
• Herensuge or Iraunsuge is related to Sugoi and Sugaar, the male snake who was the double of the Great Goddess Mari.
• The protected bull or ox links in with Mari and the underworld.
• St. Michael's Day marks the occasion for cattle fairs before after the return from the common grazing land.

St. James' Day (25 of March, 25 of July and 30 of December) and St. George's Day
(23 of April)

On the 25th of July (St. James' Day) and 26th of July (St. Ann's Day) the Dantzari Dantza is performed in Garay, a town which forms part of the "Merindad", or district, of Durango - the Duranguesado (Durangoaldea in Basque). A few days before, on the 20th of July, the dantzariak meet to rehearse before the doors of the Town Hall (K. DE HERMODO), and former dantzariak discuss the steps and figures to be performed. During the St. James' Day celebration it is traditional for them to make a procession to the chapel of St. Ann where they spend the night, and dance the Dantzari Dantza and the Gernikako arbola Dantza, named for its music, which, though very well-known, is if uncertain origins.

Julio CARO BAROJA gives us some clues as to the meaning of the festival, stating that it is dedicated to St. James the Greater, protector of warriors, although it may previously have been dedicated to St. Michael, and thus we can see a link between the two dates. It is very probable then that one celebration has been melded into the other and that the two contain similar symbolisms.

In La Leyenda Dorada, Santiago DE LA VORÁGINE also writes that after preaching unsuccessfully in the Iberian peninsula, St. James the Apostle returned to Judea, where he released his disciple Philetus from the devil's chains. Philetus had been taken prisoner by the forces of evil sent by the wizard Hermogenes, who was eventually to embrace the new religion. However, the high priest Abiathar, seeing the danger that the Apostle represented for his pagan religion, ordered him to be beheaded. This is the origin of the sword dances and more specifically, of the figure of the beheaded man which appears in "the rose". The beheading took place on 25th of March, but it was not until the 25th of July that the saint's body was taken to Compostela where it was buried on the 30th of December.

Popular legend has it that when St. James died, his disciples placed his body in a ship with neither rudder nor helmsman, and that this vessel was washed ashore on the coast of Galicia (Galiza). The apostle's followers requested and were granted an audience with Queen Lupa (shades of some type of matriarchal power?). Before this, however, they had placed the body on a rock which took the shape of the saint. The queen advised the emissaries to go and see the King of Spain, who had them arrested and imprisoned, but they managed to escape. The king ordered that they be pursued, but his soldiers perished when a bridge they were crossing which collapsed under their feet. The king-according to the legend-was promptly converted to Christianity. The queen ordered the men to go in search of some oxen grazing in the hills, which turned out in fact to be fierce bulls (as in the tales of St. Michael, these cattle have a special relevance). When the disciples approached the place, however, a dragon appeared, just as in the case of St. Michael. They made the sign of the Cross and the monster disappeared. The bulls then became tame and went unled to Lupa's palace where they halted in the central courtyard. The Queen interpreted this as a divine instruction and ordered that the apostle's tomb be built in the palace, while she herself was converted to Christianity.

The origins of this story may well lie in the conversion of some pagan lord or lady to Christianity. It is striking that it is a woman who holds the political power, an uncommon situation in Europe. We are reminded not only of the symbolic position occupied by ladies of rank in popular folklore, but even, as was claimed in the nineteenth century-though this claim has since been rejected-their effective political and economic power. Other tales relate to the release of prisoners of different kinds and are reminiscent of Mari's horse which carried the Knight of Biscay, the resurrection of the dead, etc. We can see, then, symbolic parallels between the figures of St. Michael and St. James and also with St. George, as we shall see. The three are representations of the mediaeval warrior, the knightly ideal that releases maidens from the clutches of the dragon or the beast. The three intercede with the Virgin to heal the sick and raise the dead, and the three ultimately connect with the most feminine side of the Christian religion. This may be tied in with the figures of the Great Mothers of Nature, with Mari, Amari, Maia, Amaia, Lamia, Lumia, Elilamia, Basandere, Xana, Anjana, Ayalgas, Anjanas, Mouras, Donas DŽAigua, Moricas, Encantadas and many other well-known names throughout the north of the Iberian peninsula. The palace of Queen Lupa that appears in the Galician story of the Apostle is built on another older tale concerning St. George. It is as if the symbols of the three had been superimposed: from Hermes or Mercury, we go to St. Michael, St. James and St. George, and thus Christians characters take on pagan forms.

María Mar LLINARES proposes a different interpretation of the figure of St. James. He has a close relationship with woman, in the form of Queen Lupa or Moura with whom he identifies, and ultimately with the Serpent or Dragon into which she appears to be transformed. This also coincides with other elements of traditional female folklore where the Xanas and the Encantadas, the Moricas and the Donas, or indeed Mari herself, tend to be associated with the Beast into which they are converted or which watches over them throughout the year, except on St. John's Night. This relationship, according to the researcher, implies the realisation of man's desire to seek out the submissive woman, to kill the "devil" in her and reveal her most tender side. The golden hair, the time spent in the cave, the coquettishness: all these are what the male peasant sought in the woman of his dreams. This could lead us to further examine the figure of St. James-as well as St. Michael and St. George-in terms of fertility. We believe this also influences the sword dances which, moreover, conclude in mixed social dances with female participation.

St. George was a farmer before he was a soldier (from Geos: Earth, and Orge: to cultivate) while couples wishing to have children go to churches dedicated to St. Michael.

St. Ann's Day (26th of July), Our Lady of the Snows (5th of August) and the Assumption of Our Lady (15th of August)

St. Ann is the mother of the Virgin Mary and, as such, is the maternal grandmother of Jesus Christ in Christian hagiography. This is interesting if we remember that in Judaism the clan to which a person belongs is determined by their ancestors on their mother's side. A child is deemed to be Jewish if it's mother is Jewish. It is also interesting, if we remember the arguments as to whether or not Pyrenean culture contains substrata of a former matriarchy, as was claimed in the nineteenth century (J. J. BACHOFEN, etc.), or a matriarchal mythology (Andrés ORTIZ-OSÉS). The important role played by women in decisions related to the home, and in the rituals associated with the birth and death of the individual, the care of tombs and the upkeep of the sacred fire dedicated to the spirits of the dead survived until very recently. It is not surprising, then, that Christianity gained the upper hand first in the culture of the western Pyrenees not through the figure of Christ the Redeemer but by means of the existing myth centring on the Great Mothers of Nature. Jean CHEVALIER and Alain GHEERBRANDT, in their Diccionario de los Símbolos, say that "in the Celtic tradition the great female divinity, who is initially one-as opposed to the male divinities of the pantheon (she is Minerva in Caesar's theological outline)-possesses the two aspects of virgin and mother". Later on, they claim that the Celtic divinity has had different names, among which they cite those of Ana and Dana in Ireland, which correspond to the classic Diana, and to the triad of Juno, Minerva and Palas. The influence of Celtic culture in the western Pyrenees is evident; there remains little more than to confirm that the most important precondition for the non-traumatic introduction of Christianity in this region had already been taken, and pagan rituals and beliefs have survived even despite the attempts by the dominant religion to eradicate them physically and theoretically. Examples of this can be seen in the rites dedicated to Mari in Mundaka in the fifteenth century, the trials for witchcraft and heresy on later dates, etc., and even in our own times.

Santiago DE LA VORÁGINE describes St. Ann as the "model of fecund sterility" and it goes without saying that the Virgin Mary herself was capable of bearing a child without having known a man. This is the ultimate mystery of fertility, inexplicable from a logical point of view in traditional thought, or at least ignored in public debate because it belonged to a private sphere. St. Ann, whose feast day is celebrated on the 26th of July, is the mother of the Virgin Mary; in other words, the Mother of Mothers. If in traditional mythology the passing of time has been represented by three female figures who thread, weave and cut the threads of our lives, it has also been represented by a dual female figure of a mother and daughter who share characters and, on occasions, a name. This is the case of Mari in Basque mythology who is at the same time the disobedient daughter and also the mother and wife. In the figure of St. Ann, we want to draw attention to that aspect of fertility and time.

July and August, the driest and most infertile months of the year, are, curiously enough, dedicated to the goddess of fertility. This might seem contradictory, but it is no more than a reflection of an unconscious collective desire to play out the future that the people most desired. If we pray to St. Michael when the Sun appears to be losing the fight against darkness, then at a time when the harvest might fail due to lack of nourishment or water, we must invoke the intercession of the Great Goddesses of Nature, and it is in this light that we should view the festivities of this time of year. At Assumption, though, we also celebrate the raising up of the Virgin from on high into heaven. This might lead us to think of some ecstatic dance; some mystical or Shamanist initiation. However we do not think this is the case. Rather, it simply represents the assumption or raising up of the soul of the new initiate to a higher level, from whence it must return, and for this reason the dancer represents a symbolic death and resurrection.

Movable feasts: Easter and 'Carnaval'

One of the problems in establishing the festive calendar consisted of adapting the solar and lunar calendars to one another. The solar year consists of slightly over 365 days, the time taken for the sun to return to its initial position, (or in modern-day terms, the time taken for the Earth to return to its starting point). In its journey, the Earth leans at different angles to the sun and the distance between the two also varies, giving rise to the seasons, the solstices and the equinoxes. The equinoxes in particular were very important in traditional cultures. They served to establish the time when the cattle should be led up or down to the hills, and marked the type of agrarian work to be carried out, and they were an occasion for great feasting and celebrations, associated, above all, to the activity of the sun.

The Moon has also been used to delimit work, though. In the Christian calendar, the first full moon of Spring is particularly important, as it is used to establish the time of Lent, Easter and the celebration of Christ's Passion and, by extension, the date of the Shrovetide celebrations. But the lunar and solar cycles do not coincide: there are only about twenty-eight days between full moons. This means that the first full moon of spring (in other words, the first after the equinox), can fall on the 22nd of March or any of the following twenty-seven days, and the event is therefore changeable and is thus referred to as a "moveable feast".

Easter represents the Passion of the Son of God. It is a time for processions and penitence, possibly linked to pagan agricultural rituals associated with the vine and wine. In Bizkaia the best known of these are held in Ibarrangelua, with a procession of Roman soldiers; in Balmaseda, with its Via Crucis and in Lekeitio.

Forty days beforehand, in February or March, the Shrovetide "Carnavales" are held. This is an eminently pagan festival, and different scholars have provided different explanations for it. Some see echoes in the term "Carnaval" of the "Carrus Navalis" or ship dragged through the Egyptian desert on these dates, possibly as a symbol of the inversion of values that occurs in this period. Other, however, prefer to see it as "Carne Velare" or "Carnes Tollendas" since after this date it is forbidden to eat meat. In the Basque Country two terms have been used to designate these festivities: ihauteri or iñauteri, and aratuzte or aratuste (the latter most closely matches the notion of prohibition).

This is the Carnaval, the Carnestolendas, a time of inversion, when the world is turned on its head; a time to dance to chaos, when men dress as woman, a time of great feasts, collective drunkenness and preparation for Lent; it is a time for pranks and unbridled sexual activity. All this has its explanation: on the one hand, children conceived during the Carnaval, apart from any other mystical significance attributed to them, will be born at the end of the year. This means that women can still participate in agricultural work and recover during the idle winter season, resuming work in the new year. And at the same time, the meat products made on St Martin's Day must be eaten at this time, as otherwise they might go off, causing sickness and epidemics. Everything stored up until this time, then, must be eaten, and the result is massive feasting, washed down by the best wines of the land.

But the Carnaval also marks the symbolic death of winter, and it is not surprising that many of the main characters in the masquerades and disguises are related to this concept. Claude GAIGNEBET, for example, sees the bear in this light, since its appearance marks the end of its winter sleep. Another personality repeated in many of these celebrations is associated with the colour black. This character either dresses in a black costume-as we see in the "Mascaradas" of Zuberoa-or smears his face with soot, or tries to 'smudge' the girls-as can be seen in Markina (Bizkaia), where a person with a blackened face bears the wineskin in the Wineskin Dance, pretending to be drunk. He is night, winter removed from agricultural activities, and he is therefore thrown out of the group for his idleness, since he does not allow work to be done. And it is he who chases the girls, in clear reference to fertility.

It is necessary, then, for the incarnation of the festivities, Don Carnal, to die; for a time of darkness to disappear, making way for light and work. It is a time for summary trials of evil, for the burning of the Judas, or Markitos, of Miel Otxin, of Pitxu and many other characters with different names in very varied representations. It is, in short, the fight of good against evil, light against dark, day against night. And it is also the beginning of the social festive period, when we begin to see games and dances of skill with greased poles, etc.

Conclusions

The festive calendar tells us something of the activities or work carried out by a community and its feast days show us the invocations and beliefs, the magic and religious world in which it is immersed. The main characters of the festivities represent the virtues and faults, as well as the desires of the people. No dance, then, can be dealt with outside its historical and cultural context: what at one time has served to channel certain frustrations or achievements, on other occasions has been used for other purposes, as Mircea ELIADE reminds us in El Mito del Eterno Retorno.