On Cunning and Cutting: Mars as Sword and Swordsmith
With Mars currently running retrograde through the Mercurial sign of Gemini, lately I’ve been thinking about Mars as an underappreciated planet of magic and sorcerous power. Throughout astrological history, swords and knives have always been his domain. Most glyphs depicting Mars are suggestive of weaponry - sleek, sharp, and direct. Therefore, the knife, as that which cleaves, slices, and separates, is symbolic of Mars' power. It's an essential part of every magician's arsenal as well.
Although called by many names, ritual knives are an indispensable tool in many Western magical occult traditions. Everyone from kitchen witches to Chaotes wield ritual knives. Contemporary consensus understands the ritual knife as one of the four magical weapons. Depicted in the Tarot, each weapon is connected to one of the four elements, with the sword representing Air, the element of ideas, analysis, communication, and the rational intellect. Like a sword, a mind ought to be sharp, able to cleave fact from fiction and eviscerate ignorance. In a ritual context, one may use a knife to symbolically cut a cord, demarcate sacred space, or threaten spirits.
In the context of astrological interpretation, the planet Mars may represent swords, those wielding them, or those slain by them. However, Mars is also the swordsmith. In Greek mythos, the god Ares (Mars) was the illicit lover of Aphrodite (Venus) but her husband was Hephaestus the Smith, whom some authors considered to be the brother of Ares (1). Crippled from a young age, Hephaestus never marched off to war with the Olympians, Instead, he spent his days in a volcanic forge. With soot-stained arms and the aid of his cyclops companions, he wrought chariots, magical automatons, and the legendary weapons of the Olympian gods. His greatest works include Achilles’ armor and Hermes’ (Mercury) winged shoes. The Iliad states Hephaestus could produce motion, an ironic trait considering his crippling, yet also reminiscent of the planet Mars’ associations with ignition, friction, and beginnings. (2)
Vulcan in his Forge, Pompeo Batoni
As a smith, Hephaestus was naturally a deity of fire. A forge’s centerpiece and well of magical potential lies in the generative flame, into which goes raw metal, yet out of which is wrought wonders and weapons. Metallurgy is essentially an act of transmutation. To the ancient mind, such a creative act would have carried miraculous significance, as raw ores became alloys and alloys became weapons, jewelry, and tools. It’s easy to see how a blacksmith’s creative work with metals became analogous to a magician’s creative work with spirits.
With its smoke, soot, intense heat, and harsh sounds, the blacksmith’s forge was naturally seen as reminiscent of a volcano whose rumblings were taken to be the pounding of Hephaestus upon the anvil. Several volcanoes and mountains throughout the Classical landscape were considered to be the site of his forge like Mt. Etna in Sicily or Mt. Mosychlus in Lemnos. Etymologically, the word “volcano'' actually descends from his Roman counterpart Vulcan. As Jake Stratton-Kent goes to great pains to point out in his masterful work Geosophia, these chthonic sites of cultic worship point to Hephaestus’ intimate association with magic and Goetic fire cults (3). The lame smith also played a prominent role in the pre-Greek mystery cult of the Cabiri of which we know sadly little.
Hephaestus is only one of many smiths in world mythology dripping with magical potential. In Genesis 4, Tubal-Cain is identified as the "forger of all instruments of bronze and iron" and remains a deeply inspirational figure to practitioners of Traditional WitchCraft in the tradition of Robert Cochrane. Appearing throughout Germanic and Scandinavian mythology, Wayland the Smith is an enigmatic figure whose stories usually involve metallurgy, cunning, and trickery. Once England's most popular native saint, St. Dunstan is the patron saint of all smiths. Most of his hagiographical accounts involve stories of St. Dunstan outwitting the Devil. In the most popular tale, the saint catches the Devil by the nose with the red-hot tongs of a forge. Of all mythical smiths, my favorite by far is Ilmarinen, a key figure in Finnish mythology. He is best known for creating the dome of the sky itself and the Sampo, a magic device that produces endless gold and food. Curiously, his creation of the Sampo appears more magical than technical, involving the destruction of evil spirits and the summoning of the four winds.
St. Dunstan Catching the Devil, Medieval Manuscript
Today the echoes of these fabled smiths can be seen in the works of industry. In factories worldwide welders, smiths, and workers upon assembly lines labor in hot and cacophonous conditions evocative of volcanoes. Alongside them, machines rattle, pop, and hiss. Vettius Valens affirms their identity as children of Mars in his Anthology, attributing to the red planet “those who work with fire or iron and those who work with their hands.” (5) From their forges and furnaces come gadgets, appliances, and most importantly cars. As a self-propelled chariot driven by small explosions safely contained within an engine, the automobile is a thoroughly Hephaestian creation, one often attributed to the planet Mars by contemporary astrologers.
Most of us would prefer to never undergo typical Martial experiences like war, violence, abuse, or robbery. However, Mars cannot and should not be banished from the world. He remains a vital component of life and many of his domains are essential to making a life. Knives are needed in kitchens, on dinner tables, and upon altars. On cold winter nights, fires warm hearths and hands. Saws, nails, chisels, and files are essential for building homes. And cars carry us across vast distances in a fraction of the time it would take our ancestors to make the same trip. Heavy metal, being essentially Malefic music, also owes its existence to Brother Mars, offering sonic catharsis for intense emotions like anxiety, anger, and rage. Like the generative flame of a blacksmith’s forge, Mars is both perilous and potent, able to build and burn, craft and cut, help and hammer. Capable of creation and destruction in equal measure, Mars is a magician.
References:
https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hephaestus
Iliad, XVIII 372ff
Jake Stratton-Kent. Geosophia: The Argo of Magic I. Scarlet Imprint. 2010. Pgs. 193-195.
Genesis 4:22 (New International Version)
Vettius Valens translated by Chris Brennan. Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune. Amor Fati Publications. 2017. Pgs 175-176.
