The world nearly came to an end this May.

Perhaps you missed it.

But there was no chance those of us who have been faithfully following the journey of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her group of friends for the past five years did.

Of course, apocalypse in the Buffyverse is not that much of a rarity. In the fifth season finale, The Gift Buffy Anne Summers and her mentor and Watcher Rupert Giles discussed this, noting that they had successfully stopped at least six of them, but it felt more like "a hundred." This serves not only to express the weariness of the show's protagonists, but likewise to remind the audience they were viewing the landmark 100th episode.

The series' creator and producer Joss Whedon has always had a talent for orchestrating double-meanings in Buffy. And it is somewhat appropriate. Inside the context of the Buffyverse, the population at large has no idea of all the supernatural threats and menaces that the self-designated Scooby Gang faces down every week as they strive to grow up. Outside the context, the millions of television viewers tuning in to other networks are likewise oblivious to all the cosmic drama and tragedy that unfolds on the WB every Tuesday night. The first are unaware their world almost literally ended, while the latter have no clue that the world of countless Buffy fans figuratively did so when Whedon pulled the shocking stunt of killing off his title heroine, despite the fact that the show is slated to move to UPN for at least two more seasons.

Yes, she is dead, Whedon told TV Guide. Yes, she is coming back. And yes, you should be confused.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is many things - a horror show, a comedy, a drama, and an action series. It also pays homage to many things, including lots of horror movies and lots of comic books. Still, it is first and foremost a modern myth.

Joss Whedon has cited Richard Slotkin's book, Regeneration Through Violence: The Mythology of the American Frontier, 1600-1860, as being a seminal influence on the creation of Buffy (although Star Wars and Joseph Campbell are undeniably in there too). Slotkin offers up a term known as "mythogenesis," defining it as the creation, "in both maker and audience, [of tales that are] mystical or religious, drawing heavily on the unconscious and the deepest levels of the psyche, defining relationships between human and divine things, between temporalities and ultimates."

And it is with this thesis in mind that I plan on analyzing the series finale The Gift. If nothing else, this generation has been lucky with its myths, and very rarely does a hero's journey chart the emotional roller coaster ride that is adolescence with such a degree of psychological profundity. Absurdly sophomoric titles aside, Buffy offers up some amazing insight about the human condition and in particular how it relates to youth, and The Gift stands as a kind of spiritual and dramatic epiphany of a generation.

Family Values

After a slightly uneven season that marked Buffy's transition to college, this year has been hailed by many critics and fans as one of the best.

It began with the startling revelation that Buffy has a younger sister named Dawn. We soon learn that she is actually a mysterious entity called the Key, both a teenage girl as well as living energy. Created by monks, she was sent into the Summers' home with no memory of what she truly was.

Whedon stated that while last year was about going off to college, and how that experience often fractured both individuals as well as groups of friends, this year was going to be about family. The episode when Dawn found out how she was created by magic and placed in Buffy's home served to illustrate this, as well as providing a most otherworldly metaphor for adoption. This season also thrust Buffy herself into the role of mother, her own mother Joyce passing away in The Body, an episode already being touted for an Emmy nomination.

Season five also saw the introduction of a new enemy, Glory, who was an exiled Hellgod from one of the many demon dimensions in the Buffyverse. She was forced to live in a human shell, a regular person named Ben, as a form of punishment. The only way she could return to her dimension was to use the Key, even though doing so would unravel the very fabric of the universe. Complications always ensue.

One of the most unpredictable yet ultimately moving developments was the transformation of Spike from a vicious vampire to romantic antihero. The Initiative-activated chip in his head began him on his road to redemption, not allowing him to feed on living human beings, but it was his love for Buffy that truly changed him. Like Angel before him, he left the dark side and found what he was seeking in the greater good. And with his uncanny insight into human nature, Spike was the one who realized losing Dawn would "destroy" Buffy.

The Gift was set up as if Buffy would indeed have to kill her sister to save the world. Throughout the series, Buffy has had the growing fear that being a Slayer simply meant being a killer. The rogue Slayer Faith seemed to corroborate this in season three when she accidentally killed a man but then expressed no remorse. In the season premiere, Dracula himself referred to Buffy as a "killer," and that her "power was rooted in darkness."

Then there was the cryptic prophecy Buffy learned from the Guide in the form of the First Slayer in her vision quest. The Guide told her she was full of love, that love would lead her to her gift, and her gift is death. This launched endless speculation, and rumors were leaked that a major character would die in the finale. The only character that seemed safe was Buffy herself. And so naturally, she was the one to be killed.

Who would have thought that all the scenes from the first five seasons running before the finale's prologue were actually Buffy's life flashing before her eyes?

Twilight of the Gods

The epic battle in The Gift is mostly set in a high tower rising into the night sky, elevated above the mere mortals of the Buffyverse. From it, the energy portal separating the dimensions would open and realities would collide. It echoes of various great final conflicts between the forces of light and darkness as depicted in many different myths and traditions the world over.

In primitive societies, there were often stories of the "axis mundi," or the "axis of the world," which might be symbolized by a great tree or mountain holding up the heavens. It was also the pathway by which shamans could journey from one level of existence to the next. The tower in The Gift is certainly symptomatic of this, with Buffy rising up it on behalf of humanity and battling with gods and demons.

With the confused ramblings of the workers who had damaged minds thanks to Glory and the imminent collapse of the barriers between worlds, it likewise stands as a kind of postmodern Tower of Babel. Babel is also linked with hubris and presumption, and Glory and her minions certainly fall into that category. It is also fitting that the Key can bring about the apocalypse just as surely as it can prevent it, for in the last judgment the Book of Revelation speaks of a giant key which forever locks away the creatures of hell in a bottomless pit.

Also Biblical is the great importance of blood, and as Spike points out, for nearly all the rituals in Buffy, it is "always blood" that provides the crucial element. When Dawn's blood flows, the portal opens, and when it stops, the portal closes. According to renowned symbolist Hans Biedermann, the reason for the Christian communion is that blood is recognized as the "element of divine life that functions in the human body." Primitive societies believed that blood was a magical life force, and from Hellenic times up through European folklore, blood was thought to contain the aura or spirit of the donor.

In a bit of literary irony, Spike also makes a reference to the famous St. Crispins Day speech in Henry V. A noted Shakespeare buff, Whedon no doubt wrote that line to draw a parallel between the impossible odds the English faced at the battle of Agincourt and the battle the Scooby Gang faced with Glory. Not to mention it is yet another reference to 100, the battle taking place during the 100 Years War. There is also a line in it which reads, "For he to-day that sheds his blood with me/ Shall be my brother," emphasizing the importance of blood once again.

Blood is certainly the ties that bind Dawn. As the vessel of great, cosmic energy, she is the young maiden or virgin sacrifice that has long been the staple of legend and fairy tale. Dawn is like one of the sibyls of the Roman world, women seers inexorably bound to the supernatural. Dressed in special robes for the ritual, her hair was loose though its usually braided or knotted in some way. Hair was also thought to have magical power, and tying and untying it was linked to the opening and closing of mystical gateways.

In this final battle, it is fitting that Buffy wields a troll hammer as her weapon of choice. In Norse mythology, it is Thor who carries a mythic hammer, and it was alleged to make the heavens shake with thunder. It often appeared on amulets and gravestones to ward off evil, and it was a positive symbol that was even used to endow weddings with good fortune. For Buffy, it is not only an effective weapon against Glory, but likewise foreshadowed the marriage of Xander and Anya next season.

Blood Is Thicker Than Magic

There is a real psychological dimension to Buffy as well. This was obvious in last season's finale, Restless, that was comprised of all the main characters' dreams. Some of those dreams were even portents, such as Joyce being "buried" in a wall in Buffy's.

The elements in The Gift weren't quite as overt, but they were there. A disciple of Freud, the Swiss psychologist Carl Jung spent half a lifetime working with mythic archetypes. He wrote of the anima, which is the feminine aspects of the masculine psyche, and also of the animus, or the masculine aspects of the feminine psyche. Both are shapeshifting entities, and in Buffy are made manifest in the characters of Ben and Glory as they continually morph back and forth into one another. Duality has always been a big theme in the show. There is also the demon character Doc who actually starts the ritual, and with his black clothes and blacker eyes fills the role of the ominous "man in black" who shows up in dreams and fairy tales. It is likewise important that the ritual takes place at night, night signifying a descent into the underworld and the extinguishing of consciousness.

In the context of Jungian psychology, Buffy inviting Spike into her house again and canceling out the protection spell becomes even more important. Aside from being a symbol for civilization, the house represents a person's heart or soul.

And it is Buffy's heart that has guided her through so much. Especially with the passing of her mother, Buffy has become a maternal figure. In lines from the original shooting script, she even refers to Dawn as her "daughter" as much as her sister. Though she can fight as well as any male action hero, there is also her enormous capacity for feeling. She is a nurturer as much as a destroyer. With her fierce need to protect Dawn, she becomes Universal Mother more than big sister, a role Biedermann defines as "the primal, collective, communal, psychic center of all the experience of humanity."

It is this deep connection with humanity that has allowed her to surpass most of the other Slayers who have apparently been raised in emotional isolation with the exception of their Watchers. And it is this deep connection that finds its spiritual climax in The Gift.

"She is me," Buffy insists to her friends, speaking of Dawn. The bond they share is more than physical, residing in magic and memories. This complete identification with the "other" is what Arthur Schopenhauer defined as the basis of all human morality, when the empirical wall between "I" and "not-I" is irrevocably shattered. The self is transcended and the underlying unity of life reveals itself.

Buffy is thus free to sacrifice herself, knowing some part of her will live on in Dawn, in the other. Keys are often symbolic of the owner's power to confine or set free, and Dawn allows Buffy to free herself from this world.

End Of The Innocence

The Guide revealed to Buffy that she was full of love, and throughout The Gift, we see evidence of it. She tells her friends she loves them all. She talks about how much she loved Angel. In the end, her last words are how much she will always love Dawn. It is terribly ironic that the real nature of the Slayer is not to kill, but to love.

Yet perhaps there is even more to it than that.

Ever since the first season finale, Prophecy Girl, Buffy has been something of a messianic figure. The Master referred to her as "the Lamb," the ultimate symbol of martyrdom. And in that episode, she died only to be brought back to life, going on to save the world in the process.

But the price was almost unbearable. And it continued to be, right up through having to then sacrifice Angel in Becoming II, and echoing on down in a cycle of pain and loss. But Buffy drew the line at Dawn. The universe simply couldn't have her. No matter the cost. There has been speculation that death was Buffy's gift because she wanted to die. Indeed, even Spike once commented that he had killed two Slayers only because "Every Slayer has a death wish." And in the episode before the finale, we did see Buffy comatose, unable to bear the weight of the world any longer. She remarked before the great battle that "I don't know how to live in this world if these are the choices we have ... if everything just gets stripped away." It had something of a last supper flavor to it, with Buffy pleading "may this cup be taken from me," lest she have to sacrifice again. She even had a Gethsemane moment with Giles earlier in the Magic Shop, with him telling her Dawn was not really her sister.

To be sure, she was going through an existential crisis of faith - at least faith in her calling, faith in her duty. Death was her gift in the end, however, not because she wanted to die but because she couldn't bear losing Dawn. If her own blood was enough to short circuit the ritual (and we have seen in the Buffyverse that magic rituals are much easier to end than to begin), then she no longer had to suffer loss. And she could go on with her duty, even if only for a few more minutes of life. "This is the work I have to do," she tells Dawn. And perhaps reaching apotheosis as she did so.

The juxtaposition of the god-figures in this episode is interesting. Glory is vain, selfish, cruel, insecure, and in constant need of praise from her minions - the classic false god. Contrast this with Buffy, who approaches something like true divinity in the last few seconds of her life. When she dives off the tower's platform at the end to seal the energy portal with her own blood, she forms a crucifix on the way down. And it is through her love that she saves not just the world, but the entire universe.

There is color symbolism in all of this as well, particularly in the clothes. Dawn wears purple and black, signifying mourning and death. Buffy wears gray pants and a white shirt, two colors which represent the transmutation of death into rebirth.

There is a sun struggling to rise as Buffy seals the portal, symbolizing immortality and resurrection in the Christian iconography. The sun is linked to the source, the life force, and Christ was frequently associated with the sun in Romanesque art. After Buffy's death, the sun speaks of the birth of a new world, the repercussions of which viewers will have to wait an entire summer to find out.

What we do know is what has passed, and that is a television show that has continually outdone itself. Buried under the endless pop culture references and the monster metaphors is a nobility that is almost old fashioned in its earnestness. The Gift took everything to an entirely new level. With her stunning bit of metaphysical insight into the true connection between herself and Dawn, Buffy showed us not just what it means to be the Chosen One, the Slayer, but what it means to be a human being. Embracing her gift in death, she demonstrates to a rootless generation what absolute love is, love that doesn't flinch, even with the fate of the universe hanging in the balance.

Whedon has said that Buffy is an everyman figure that we are all supposed to be able to identify with. I disagree. She is not a reflection of us. Buffy is not what we are, rather what - in our best moments - we strive to be.

"Dawn listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work I have to do. Tell Giles I ... I figured it out. And I'm okay. Give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now - you have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."