Unsympathetic Magic:
The Slayer's Role through History
mundusmundi
- October 13 2001
Learning history is invariably a challenge; and in central Ohio,
the navel just above the Bible Belt, attempting to understand even the
most basic historical concepts can be a daunting task. What students find
especially difficult to reconcile is the body of evidence supporting
humanity's gradual evolution out of the jungle to a more civilized state,
with the independently unconfirmed account of our original ancestors as
negligent tenants evicted out of the posh paradise of Eden Estates. This
is not meant to castigate religion; merely to point out, as my mentor once
did to me, that one cannot bring literal-minded notions of the
supernatural into a legitimate historical discipline. (Well, one can, but
then one would be the author of Chariots of the Gods.)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is, of course, a show about
supernatural phenomena; yet it is a fantasy tempered by a clear-eyed view
of the real world. In a previous essay I noted Joss Whedon's keen grasp of
history, at how dramatically his titular heroine's historical
consciousness has expanded in recent years. Buffy's mystical bloodline was
formally confirmed in "Restless" with the appearance of the First Slayer,
who initiated the war against the demons into which Buffy was drafted. It
is no coincidence that Buffy's interest in Slayer genealogy piqued soon
afterwards. Based on "Bargaining," the emphasis on both Buffy's role in
history and her ties to her "primitive" nature show no sign of ceasing.
Until the Leakeys of the Jossverse end their silence and join the fray,
any comprehensive study of past Slayers is largely speculative. But we do
know that for all his fictions, Whedon is remarkably faithful to the
Realverse's historical timeframe. Thus it seems logical to assume that
such a chronology would fit within the real history of which we are all
familiar. With what we do know about the First Slayer-a good place to
start-it seems likely that she surfaced where the earliest humans dawned.
I. Out of Africa
Answers in Genesis (or for that matter any
other Realverse explanation of human origins) have no place in Whedon's
mythical world. We learned from Giles early on that in the beginning the
earth was not a paradise, but a hell in which demons walked. Giles and his
cherished texts have proven themselves reliable often enough to presuppose
the validity of this statement. But his claim nonetheless presents
difficulties, for it is unclear as to whether demons imposed themselves on
this world, perhaps from another dimension, or evolved on this planet like
all living things.
Judging by their animalistic qualities, their herd instincts and their
violent territorial disputes, it seems a good hunch that demons descended
with modification like every other species. Furthermore, the fact that
demons as a whole possess physical and in some cases embryological
attributes similar to humans makes them a likely close cousin on the
evolutionary chain. Perhaps an as-yet-undiscovered fossil of demonus
erectus in Buffyverse East Africa is the "missing link" between we
humans and our demonic competitors.
Whatever the case, the "Old Ones" as Giles called them likely fed on
other animal species before coming into contact with the home sapiens
sapiens who would forever alter their destiny. Perhaps at first we
were an easy meal, as well as a host for the seed of vampirism that would
eventually be planted. However, at some point in the Paleolithic Age
(circa. 2.5 mil-10,000 B.C.), after the advent of hand-crafted tools and
weaponry, the First Slayer was born.
As early as "The Pack," Whedon has suggested that humans and demons are
inexorably linked, both prime beneficiaries of natural selection (if not
genetic drift) in the animal kingdom. Dracula reinforced this connection
to Buffy through the taste-test of his blood, and Spike too has repeatedly
emphasized it, namely through his observation that demons, specifically
vampires, have a predilection for human blood because they hunger for
life. Whether the First Slayer was created entirely by the
Powers-That-Be, summoned by tribal leaders, and/or began the battle on her
own volition, there is a smattering of evidence that she was a feral
hybrid of human and demon. Dracula suggested to Buffy that her power is
rooted in darkness; perhaps then the Primitive had a touch of "demonstuff"
within her.
Protected by the proto-Buffy, the tribe's population would have
burgeoned considerably, tipping the balance of power in humanity's favor.
The dynamic between predator and prey changed, and as humans spread it
would have been the demons who, like other packs of animals, found
themselves on the run. One can imagine that somewhere in the Jossverse
there exist cave paintings of vampires embedded with stakes, depicting the
"sympathetic magic" used by the Slayer to bring good fortune to her hunt.
(It is speculated that prehistoric peoples believed something done to an
image of an animal would produce the same effect on the actual beast.)
These young women may have well grasped the significance of their role in
the tribe and conveyed it as all ancient peoples did-through artistic
motifs, buried deep within the caves' symbolic wombs.
Why then only one Serengeti Slayer? Why not an entire army of Slayers
at humanity's disposal? If the PTB had a hand, maybe some symbiosis of
"mystical balance" between good and evil was involved. Then again, maybe
patriarchal concerns were at play. As the Neolithic Age dawned and tribal
cultures changed from being relatively gender-balanced to emphasizing the
role of women as domestics, there may have been a need to re-establish the
concept of the "goddess" without giving women any real power. That the
Slayer was "alone," in the Primitive's own words, implies that she may
have been elevated to the status of protector-figure while at the same
time kept apart from the tribe. The first Council of Watchers, likely a
small group of male shamans, would appear a logical extension of the PTB,
by proxy using the First Slayer, and her immediate successors, to do their
bidding.
On the other hand, perhaps at one time there was an army of Slayers.
These could have been the legendary "Amazons" mentioned by Herodotus,
among others. While it seems unlikely that more than one true Slayer lived
at any point, it is not inconceivable that an early Slayer may have
rebuffed her solitude, rebelled against her fate, and created a legion of
woman warriors. These women would have been feared by the demon hordes,
pursued by the Slayer into other regions of the world. (Or possibly the
demons pursued the humans, and the Slayers served to defend the latter
group.) They most certainly would have drawn the ire of the original
Watchers. Just as Quentin Travers has repeatedly tried to get Buffy to
play ball, the first CoW would have sought to reclaim their stranglehold
on the Slayer line. As early civilizations began, their patriarchal power
would have been consolidated.
II. Between the Rivers
Whether Buffy's mystical lineage
derives entirely out of Africa, or the "separate Slayers" theory has
validity, it seems probable that at some point the Slayer became
institutionalized. As human cultures evolved out of Neolithic near eastern
villages like Jericho and Catal Huyuk and into early civilizations, a
potent and potentially dangerous entity like the Slayer would have had to
be absorbed into one of the newly developing river valley cultures.
Mesopotamia seems a good bet, for no other ancient society endured as
much turmoil as the peoples who inhabited this region. Situated between
the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, Mesopotamia, much more than Richard
Slotkin's American frontier, was a regenerative culture of violence. The
unpredictability of the rivers, the unstable divine kingships, and the
unenviable location between marauding nomads created many hardships for
those like the Sumerians, the first known denizens of the region. A Slayer
would have felt right at home in such an inhospitable territory, and would
have been enthusiastically employed by the citizens of Ur, Uruk and
Babylon. An esteemed priestly class-again reflecting the patriarchy that
continued developing during these times-would have been a natural
candidate for a Watchers' Council.
A fascinating paradox emerges in ancient civilizations like Mesopotamia
on the role of women. The Epic of Gilgamesh, for example, is an
epic poem featuring a typical (albeit semi-tragic) testosteroned hero. Yet
in the creation myth Enuma Elish, it is the goddess Mummu-Tiamat
who must be destroyed by the he-god Marduk before order can be restored
between the deities. It is Tiamat's body, cracked by Marduk like an
eggshell, that is used to create the world. This is of course an act of
violence. But unlike the more tranquil, linear Genesis account, the
Enuma Elish depicts creation as deriving through destruction. This
is commonly regarded as a more cyclical concept associated with femininity
(though the Noachian flood tale, deriving from earlier Sumerian sources
such as Gilgamesh, also employs this motif). To further
hypothesize, Sumerian Slayers-or Akkadian or Amorite-were viewed as a
crucial part of this cycle, their deaths necessary for the preservation of
the society.
Assuming the Slayers remained in the Near East, how then did they
become westernized? This transition, philosophical as well as
geographical, would have occurred as all Western civilizations
evolved-through Alexander the Great's conquests, the Hellenistic cultural
collusion between Occident and Orient, and the eventual rise of the Roman
Empire.
III. When in Rome....
Powerful and parasitical, imperial Rome
absorbed countless cultures within its borders, stretching at its widest
length from Mesopotamia all the way to the British Isles. Along with these
different cultures, many various institutions, ideas and spiritual
practices were also amalgamated. From the Near East came "mystery
religions"-what today would be deemed cults-secret fraternal or
sororital organizations that commonly revolved around mythic savior
deities, involved blood rituals or sacrifices, and made promises of an
afterlife. These mystery cults were quite popular among the Roman people
and were tolerated by the governing bodies so long as the state gods were
given lip service as well. (Charlton Heston movies notwithstanding, the
Romans were generally tolerant of other religions.)
Knowing what we do about the Romans, it is wholly probable that they
would have viewed an exotic entity like the CoW with a mix of admiration,
suspicion and apathy. Following Augustus's debacle in Teutoburg Forest
circa. 9 A.D. (three of his legions decimated by the Cherusci chieftain
Arminius, a.k.a., "Herman the German"), the emperors may have decided it
practical to employ the services of the Slayers against whatever demons
pushed against their borders. It is not hard to imagine after-dark
gladiatorial combats staged, pitting Slayers against vampires before
colosseum throngs. The Roman government would have also siphoned the
Council from its eastern origins and began its transformation into the
powerful secret hierarchy-a Slayorum?-evident in the Jossverse
today.
The real mystery is when the move further north take place. Was
it as early as the Roman occupation of England (under Claudius, perhaps),
or centuries later, following the Norman Conquest? That the vampire mythos
is deeply embedded in Eastern European folklore, and has an intriguing
relationship with Christianity, may suggest that the Slayers existed on
mainland Europe long after western Rome's fall. Possibly they were part of
Byzantium's "Bureau of Barbarians" (sort of Constantinople's CIA) and
dealt with the despised and demonized Slavs, Bulgars and other "bar-bars"
to the Eastern Empire's north. On the other hand, the strict Eastern
Orthodox Christianity of the Byzantines would seem unlikely to accept a
primitive, mystical, utterly heretical institution like the Slayer. (That
Vlad the Impaler was so brutally successful in his vampiric incarnation
may also suggest a Slayerless society.) My hunch is that the Slayer system
was imported to England early on, relatively free of any Church
doctrine-be it Roman Catholic or Orthodox-and thus continued to grow as
the rest of English society did, both before and after the Norman
Conquest.
IV. Hail, Brittania!
At first glance, Great Britain seems
like a strange place for the Council of Watchers to reside. The
button-down stereotypes associated with the English do not appear to jibe
with apocalyptic battles between Slayers and demons. It is important to
remember, however, the age and richness of English mythology. King Arthur,
Robin Hood and other legends originated in "Angle-land" and became popular
folklore in the centuries following the Norman Conquest. After 1066 A.D.,
the "bastard feudalism" of William the Conqueror spawned a social order
comparatively more stable to their neighbors across the English Channel
(or, as the French call it, "the Channel"). Yet the amazingly high
population density of vampires in Jossverse Britain-strangely unmentioned
in the Domesday Book-is further evidence that Slayer and demon, good and
evil, come together as a package. Where there is one, there is invariably
the other.
It is in the Age of Imperialism that the Slayer truly becomes a tool of
the British Empire. As England comes to occupy two-fifths of the Earth's
surface, the "one girl in all the world" is able to be chosen by the PTB
from a wider range of prospects. The Chinese Slayer that Spike kills
during the Boxer Rebellion is a good illustration; undoubtedly there were
Indian Slayers as well. (Ah, what would Kipling had made of one?) This
advances the theory that Slayers are meant to be subjugated by their
superiors, powerful yet also powerless.
Choosing the Slayer from far-away lands also made it easier to hide
her, to keep the magic of the Jossverse along the fringe of public view.
The 17th through 19th centuries were most certainly the height of the
Council's power. Yet Britain's expansion also proved to be the Council's
undoing. Vampires, after all, have always gone where the action is. Thus
it was inevitable that the Slayer would come to America.
V. American Slayer
Whereas Europe had become perhaps an
overly familiar hunting ground for demons, the New World was ripe for
pickings. Maybe demons were even encouraged to leave or shipped across the
waters, not unlike convicts, Puritans and other "undesirables." The
Master's arrival in Jamestown circa. 1609 makes it clear that vampires
sought fresh blood. They too hoped to make a fresh start.
We do not know as yet who the first American Slayer was. (For clarity's
sake, I'm using American in the exclusive sense here, with
apologies to our Canadian and Mexican friends.) It seems likely that she
was imported via British colonialism, keeping the vampire populations low
enough to maintain human dominance, yet not so low that the CoW would lose
its sphere of influence. (Without any demon threat, the Council members
would be about as useful as Prince Charles in a polo shirt.) The fact that
the Council apparently maintains its status in the United States after the
War of Independence suggests that the Slayer is the last vestige of
British authority around these parts. Even that thread has been slipping
away, ever since Buffy was called.
Although her primal nature is strong, Buffy Summers differs from
previous Slayers in numerous ways. First and foremost, she is a product of
democracy, a fairly normal young woman who initially enjoys what de
Tocqueville might have called "the most insipid happiness imaginable." If
she has had admittedly less to smile about of late, she is no longer a
tool of higher powers. (The same could be said for Giles, having "gone
native" from the CoW and loving Buffy like a daughter.)
Buffy is an active participant in American culture. She is a consumer.
She likes the beach. She enjoys movies. She has friends and family, hopes
and dreams. Unlike the African-American Slayer in '77 New York, Buffy is
lucky enough to be living in the right place at the right time. For all
her bad karma, she is, in essence, inexploitable.
With demon cells inhabiting the Jossverse as plenteously as terrorist
cells in the Realverse (or troll cells in the Masqverse), Buffy still has
her work cut out for her. And it is a job that remains largely thankless.
There may be never sympathy for the Slayer nor even the simple bliss of an
afterlife. Yet Buffy, possessing regenerative qualities that the
immortality-seeking Gilgamesh would have envied, appears to have an
opportunity to defy the role in which history has determined. She needs to
figure out how to live in this world, to decide exactly what being a
Slayer means.
Magic is abundant in the Jossverse. But even there magic has limits.
Like the title character at the end of Candide, the time has come
for Buffy to cultivate her garden. To stake out her own heaven, even atop
a Hellmouth.