Dancing with Dionysos: An Ex-Catholic Girl Reads The Bacchae
“ Mankind, young man, has two chief blessings: goddess Demeter- the earth that is; call her whichever name you will- who sustains men with solid food… and this son of Semele [Dionysus] “
- THE BACCHAE, translated by Moses Hadas
Are you afraid of Dionysos?
I am.
And I love it.
A while back, I finished The Bacchae, which is basically required reading when you’re falling hard for Dionysos. There’s enough ideas packed inside this weird, wonderful, delightfully-f*ed-up little play for me to write a term paper, but I’m going to spare myself the stress of doing Lit Analysis (π±) and simply talk about how The Bacchae impacted my spiritual practice.
As someone who grew up Roman Catholic, Dionysos makes sense to me on a visceral level. Wine? Ecstasy? Sacrifice? Eating the literal flesh of your God?!?! FUCK, YES!
Maybe that’s why the horror of The Bacchae didn’t disturb me the way that it disturbs other people. It just Made Sense that Dionysos would stop at nothing to prove Their* godhood. Like wine, Dionysos is both beautiful and terrible. Ecstasy is glorious. Ecstasy is deadly. Yes, oh yes, I think I understand.
Growing up Roman Catholic, I was haunted by purity culture. My mom, a Kumbaya Catholic from the 80’s, tried her hardest to shield me from the worst of Christianity, but Catholic guilt still wormed itself inside my psyche. I was horrified by the changes in my body, ashamed of my feelings for other girls, and furious at the Church that marked me as “other.”
Then, in 2017, my family and I learned about the unthinkable. Catholic priests and officials in our diocese had been systemically covering up a long history of sexual abuse. One of the leaders who orchestrated the cover-up had even said Mass at my school.
That moment was my breaking point. It wasn’t me and my sexuality that were unnatural and broken. It was the Church. It was the system. Because when you repress a powerful force (sex, ecstasy, freedom), it never goes away. Instead, it expresses itself in twisted ways. It thrives on secrecy, shame, and power until it becomes and corrupt and distorted.
Repression is the heart of our undoing.
This, I think, is the story at the center of The Bacchae: the more you suppress Dionysos, the more She comes back in full force. If that’s case, then we might as well give in to our own pleasure- manage it, nurture it, respect it- so that it doesn’t destroy us. To quote the Delphic maxims, “Nothing in excess.”
I have a complicated relationship with Dionysos. As someone with an addictive personality, sexuality and religious ecstasy are absolutely alluring to me. It would be easy for me to go off the deep end and forget to do Normal Teen Things. But I restrain myself and practice moderation because I know what will happen if I let myself go. I refuse to repress my Dionysian nature, OR let it overpower me.
It’s a dance we share, He and I.
I used to believe that all of the Gods are 100% virtuous, just Love and Light and Good Will. The more I explore my polytheism, the more that thinking feels like leftover Christianity. Some Gods are like an ocean. They are beautiful and life-giving, but They are also terrible and destructive.
The ocean is neither good nor evil, it’s simply the ocean. Sometimes you’re splashing in the beach on a beautiful sunlit day. Sometimes you’re clinging to a raft, screaming prayers as you try not to drown. The goal of a good polytheist is to make sure that you’re splashing on the beach and not drowning… most of the time.
And fearing the Gods is like fearing the ocean. Acknowledge that you’re dealing with a powerful force, but don’t be so afraid that you refuse to take a dip. It’s warm and safe at the shore.
Well those are my ramblings. If you’ve read The Bacchae, what are your thoughts? Have you ever danced with Dionysos?
In the Gods,
Rose Eleusis
*As a note, I enjoyed using fluid pronouns for Dionysos in this post. That’s just my personal experience of The Liberator.
OMG you just blow me away.
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