Delphi and the Sacred Way

Two events recently prompted me to revisit this post about Delphi and the renowned oracle. One was a visit to the theatre to see “The Pride”, a comment on society’s changing attitudes to our LGBT communities. Written by Greek actor turned playwright, Alexi Kaye Campbell, the lyrical voice and themes seemed to echo, at one point, my own prose in this post, originally from 2008. Campbell, born in Athens, calls on the beauty and mystery of Mount Parnassus to indicate an epiphany, prophesying a better future for LGBT people, experienced by one of his characters.

The other catalyst was watching an episode of the British television documentary Great Continental Railway Journeys, presented by Michael Portillo, who visits this area and reveals some of the theories to do with the identity of the oracle.

We learn that the name “Pythia” is derived from Pytho, the original mythical name of Delphi. Pythia was also the House of Snakes. The modern theory is that the Pythia (oracle) spoke gibberish while in a frenzied state induced by vapours rising from a chasm in the rocks at the site. Priests interpreted the woman’s ravings as the enigmatic prophecies preserved in Greek literature.

I took these photos while clambering around on the mountainous Greek terrain in 1969. I was soundly punished, perhaps by the guardian of the sanctuary, Apollo, with a bad case of sun-stroke for my ecstasy; or was it by the jealous goddess Athena?  A small price to pay for such an experience that I have carried with me through the years. These photos were reproduced from slides that I had stored away for thirty-nine years.

Miss Margaret Mackie, my Philosophy teacher at Armidale Teachers’ College in 1961-62, enthralled me with stories of the Delphic Oracle, and of Plato and Socrates; we studied parts of The Republic by Plato in detail, and I came to idealise these great thinkers of ancient times. A few years later, I revelled in the chance to visit these magical places that my teacher had opened up for me. This was in 1969, when I travelled from France to Greece with two girl-friends from Melbourne, whom I had met while working in the Australian Embassy in Paris.

Delphi 1969: Was it my imagination playing tricks on me, or was there indeed a breathtaking godliness about this place? The mountains towering about like guardians of a sacred place—orange, pink and stony, powerful and gleaming in the sun. The walks up to each of the ancient monuments inspiring sacred awe: starting below with the Gymnasium, The Marmaria Temple to Athena, protectress of the Apollo Temple further up, the one lovely in its rosy granite lightness, the other perfect in its simple lines. We searched for a site marking the oracle, a shrine or stone or something, but, despite its physical absence, you could believe that you heard its voice, saw its slippery serpent-like tail gleaming among the rocks and ferns and springs. The theatre steps spanned mightily around, and on high, the stadium!

That evening, suntanned, spirit-fresh and tired, we drove to the camp below and drank cognac, and talked of ancient gods, of beauty and of life.