"Merlin's
Cry." A Poem by Michael Whan.
Foreword to,
In a Wayward Mood: Daniel C. Noel:
Selected Writings 1969-2002.
New York: iUniverse, 2004.
The poet is
as mysteriously driven as the magician who diverts his audience's
attention in order
to pull the rabbit from his hat. And because this critique centers
on the greatest mage of them all, one who could see without
being seen, invisible in a castle of invisible air, it begins
not with
the poem it promises to reveal,
but where it first appeared, for whom it jumped out of the hat.
1.
"Merlin's Cry" was
written, even if the poet realized this later, in memory of Daniel
Calhoun Noel, who taught
and published for over 35 years, before his death at age 66.
He was, in his own words, "a denizen of the discipline of religious
studies."(1) However,
as Dennis
Patrick Slattery, Dan's
colleague at Pacifica Graduate Institute, wrote in remembrance
of his friend, "Be
it the area of literature, film, culture, history, myth—you
name it, Dan was unafraid and always eager to claim it."(2) Indeed,
the eclectic scholar became best known for his views on "neoshamanism," and
his critique of "fictive realism," especially that
of Carlos Castaneda's popular "Don Juan" series of
books.
In 1997, I
interviewed Noel on his important book, The
Soul of Shamanism:
Western
Fantasies,
Imaginal
Realities. The interview
begins:
"Dan,
your new book begins with the figure of Merlin, your ancestral
psychopomp. You
speak of "Merlin's disappearance
and subsequent forest cries," then
his reappearance in the "imaginal," which,
in turn," draws us" to what
you call "neoshamanism." Why
this reconsideration of shamanism, in
which until recently only anthropologists
were interested, as an actual spiritual
practice?"
"Merlin doesn't signal
the adoption by Westerners of some form of shamanism as a spiritual
practice—at
least not obviously. I
make the connection myself between a resurgence of interest in Merlin
and the potential for a more deliberately, mindfully Western version
of shamanism than we have had thus far. I employ Merlin as an archetypal
role model (given the shamanic characteristics he displays
in some variants of his legend) or patron of the sort of Western neoshamanism
I'd like to see and try to describe." (3)
Historically, Merlin first appears
in Geoffrey of Monmouth's versified, Vita Merlini, circa
1132. However, like with Homer, there re many "Merlins." There's
Merlinus Ambrosius, who calls himself Aurelius Ambrosius. There's
also Merlinus Sylvester, and the Scottish Lailoken.
But the Merlin that interests me here is the Welch Myrddlin, who came
from Carmarthen,
or Caer
Myrddhin,
in South Wales, one of the places where Merlin is
allegedly buried—
Under
a rocke that lyes a litle space
From the swift Barry, tombling downe apace,
Emongst the woodie hilles of Dynevowre:
But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace,
To enter into that same balefull Bowre,
For feare the cruell Feends should thee unwares devowre.(4)
On a mild January day
in 1993 Dan Noel, suffering from angina and forgetting to take
his medication, made a life-threatening
climb to the tomb of Myrddin Wylit, "Wild
Merlin,
shamanic
Merlin."(5) In
his short account of the trek,
we learn nothing of him finding Merlin's tomb, perhaps because it
exists only in "non-ordinary reality;" for
suddenly Noel is descending the hill, his chest still hurting, for
the drive back to Cardiff, where he left his medication. It is his
heart that concerns him, more than finding Merlin's tomb, the invisible
castle
to which Merlin was confined. Or is it a House of Glass, from which
he can see out but no one can see in? Or perhaps he vanished "into
his esplumior or into a rock tomb."(6)
In any case, "Merlin's retirement," wrote
Noel, in italics, "signals the movement of shamanic healing in our
history
from the daily
life and religious devotion of pagan peoples—and the Judeo-Christian influx
where it incorporated pagan healing wisdom—to another site,
a new location: psychology. What was conscious in the West became
unconscious, there to await the arrival, with Freud and Jung, of
the means to hear its call and comprehend its requirements."(7)
In other words, being heartfelt,
Merlin's tomb is wherever we are able to imagine
it to
be.
Six years before his experience
in South Wales, Noel met Michael Whan. Whan, who at the time was
a social worker at a child
and
family psychiatric clinic in Watford, England, had published an
essay that examined
Carlos Castaneda's books from the standpoint of "ethnomethodology,"
which
"claim(s) to
show
how social groups come to constitute what they believe to be 'facts
in themselves,' self-evident truths. The distinction between fact
and fiction becomes, therefore, hard to maintain." It is a kind
of
"trickster psychology" that "suggests an archetypal
perspective with a special sensitivity to the question of interpretation.
Meaning
is conceived not as literal but as equivocal, implying a plurality
of life-worlds and archetypal perspectives."(8) These
thoughts are well into the fold of James Hillman's Archetypal
Psychology, who at that time edited the journal in which Whan's essay
was published.
Noel
and Whan shared a interest in "Western fantasies literalized
as facts," (7) in
the commensal phenomenon of "neoshamanism," and in Jungian
archetypes, especially the Trickster and
Wise Old Man—which leads us back to Merlin. "What
I did not fully know until 1987," Noel wrote, e,g,
before he met Whan, "was that long before Merlin was King Arthur's
advisor and
court magician in the late-medieval texts, he was seer, bard, Druid,
Wild Man, and, at root, shaman."(9)
2.
When C.G. Jung was
constructing his fabled tower at Bollingen, Switzerland, a large
granite stone was mistakenly delivered. Jung decided to keep it,
with the idea (which he didn't follow through) of inscribing on one
side, Le
Cri de Merlin, "The
Cry of Merlin." That this solitary stone didn't fit into the
architect's plan reminded him of "Merlin's life in the forest,
after he had vanished from the world. Men still hear his cries, so
the legend runs, but they cannot understand or interpret them."(10)
By now the forest had become
his solitary domain, his movements
inseparable from the wind.(11)
Among his
array of spiritual accomplishments, Merlin is a Master of Breath.
Scholar of Celtic history and myth, Jean Markale, wrote that "we
know that the importance of breath has been recognized throughout
history in
rituals, myths,
legends, and their varied incarnations, even if only in the
Carnival procession entirely dedicated to breath and its exaltation."(12) To
which Mircea Eliade adds: "It is scarcely necessary to
say that respiratory technique and holding the breath
had a large
place
in
organizing
the complex of ascetic practices and of magical, mystical, and metaphorical
techniques that are included under the general term Yoga."(13) Breath
is spirit, spiritus, the animating principle of life; it
is also a portal to higher consciousness through which one finds
no one, not even one's self, but the wind's indecipherable cry.
His cry went unheard,
so far had he wandered
that green wilderness
its sound haunting
as a curlew. (11)
The
weird sound of the curlew with its near human voice, a liminal call
not belonging to this world or another, presaging accident or
death, is Merlin's haunting power of premonition. "Near Sheffield
(England), where curlews are still found on the moors, they are,
or were, called
'Gabriel's
hounds.'"(13) Merlin
is the wilderness that is dying; but
how many humans hear his call above the barking chainsaw's
ravenous teeth?
Uncomprehending he sought
an augury of his dark condition:
withdrawn into the land, the leaves,
the watchful glance of a deer.(11)
Is this the ghost
of the deer whom, driving one night in the mountains, William
Stafford found dead by the side of the road? The victim of a recent
killing,
"her
side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting, /
alive, still, never to be born." With the car's engine purring under
the hood, he stood "in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red,"
and thought "hard for us all—my only swerving—, / then
pushed her over the edge into the river."(15)
His heart beginning
to weigh
less than a feather, he circled
like a bird of prey, learning
to fly his own abyss:
in the earth's fold, the riddle
of his vanished self.(11)
It was a bird's feather
that used to be held to a dying person's nose to see if he or she
was still alive. In
the Paleolithic cave at Lascaux, an ithyphallic shaman is depicted
wearing the mask of a
bird, his hands and feet are that of a bird. Nearby is a
staff crowned with a
bird. "The bird perched on a stick," wrote Eliade, "is
a frequent symbol in shamanic circles."(13)In
the last stanza of Whan's poem, Merlin in the guise of a bird of
prey is hunting within the region of his own psyche,
perhaps
his "collective
unconscious," which
is neither
earth nor flesh, and where may be found the secret
of one's death that all religions promise to deliver their believers,
but can, in effect, only be vouchsafed in the mystery of one's
mundane life.
One morning, in Forest
Park, that green oasis growing within Portland Oregon's
city limits, I met
an
owl eye to eye—he
stoically perched on a branch, I sitting on a rock nearby—until,
after a long while, he silently flew away. That
wise old bird was Merlin. Silent that day for me, Michael Whan
once heard his cry in "the wind's echo...as
if all existence is kept / in its taloned breath." Then,
in some of the most telling lines of poetry recently made, Whan
wrote:
Stone, leaf, bird,
these
are the wild keepers of the earth,
and we alone in the
dark
like those answering owls,
the vast night cradling us,
while our restless dreams
invent the dawn.(16)
3.
Dan Noel died from
"extreme cardiac distress,"(17) on
a late-summer night in Southern California, just
up the road from where I now live. Although he and I exchanged
several letters, we never met in
person.
At a conference at Oxford, in 1997, he sat down next to my
future wife, literary critic Susan Rowland,
and discussed with her the great 20th Century writer and mystic,
Thomas Merton, who had also, several times, passed through my
life. Hearing Susan's story while writing this critique, I thought: Merlin/Merton, it
all comes around!
References and Notes:
1- Noel, D.C. (2004) "Starting From
Chickasaw Street—Autobiographical
and
Academic Asides on Shamanism.(1998)" In a Wayward Mood: Daniel
C. Noel:Selected Writings 1969-2002. New
York: iUniverse.
2- Slattery, D.P. (2004) Forward to
In a Wayward Mood: Daniel
C. Noel:Selected Writings 1969-2002. New York: iUniverse.
3-
Weishaus, J. (1997) "Interview with Daniel C. Noel: http://www.cgjungpage.org/index.php?option=content&task=view&id=838
4- Spenser, E. From, "The Faerie Queen." Book 3, Canto 3. "The
Visit
to Merlin."
5- Noel, D.C. (2004) "Climbing to Merlin's Tomb—Dynevor, South Wales,
1993." Ibid, In a Wayward Mood.
6- Von Franz, M-L. (1975) C.G. Jung: His Myth In Our Time." Boston:
Little,
Brown
and Company. Von Franz explains that "the word esplumior has
never been explained, but it probably refers to the cage in which falcons moulted,
hence a
place for 'moulting' or transformation." op.crit.
7- Noel, D.C. (1997) The Soul of Shamanism. New York: Continuum.
8-Whan,
M (1978) "'Don Juan,' Trickster, and Hermeneutic Understanding." Spring
Journal.
9- Noel, D.C. (2004) "Comprehending Merlin's Cry (1990)" op.crit., In
a Wayward
Mood.
10- Jung, C.G. (1963) Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Recorded and
edited by Aniela
Jaffé.
New York, Pantheon.
11- Whan, M. From, "Merlin's Cry."
12- Markale, J. (1995) Merlin:
Priest of Nature. Rochester, VT: Inner
Traditions. In a note, Markale adds many other references to the importance
of breath, including alchemy, "where Spirit or breath appears as the
fifth element, the fourth element existing only because breath gives life
to
the first three, for fire is merely the transformation of other elements."
13- Eliade, M (1989) Shamanism. London: Arkana Penguin.
14- Armstrong, E.A. (
1970) The Folklore of Birds. New York, Dover.
15. Stafford, W. From, "Traveling Through the Dark."
16- Whan, M. (2006) From, "Owl Cry." Spring Journal.
(Fall).
17- Summerland, CA. Sheriff's Office report to Noel's son, Christopher.
op.crit., In a Wayward Mood.
Thank you to Joan McAllister, and
Oregon Friends of C.G. Jung.