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About E.S.O. Martin

E.S.O. Martin is a writer, a California native, and a graduate of SF State's Creative Writing MFA program. View all posts by E.S.O. Martin →

Veles: Shapeshifter God of Earth, Magic, and the Underworld

May 18, 2024Journal, Slavic Spirits (series)E.S.O. Martin

Veles: The Enigmatic Shapeshifter of Slavic Mythology

Veles, sitting on his throne at the roots of the World Tree

In the shadowy depths of Slavic lore, Veles emerges as a figure shrouded in mystery and magic. If Perun was the god of the sky, then Veles was the god of everything underneath it.

Veles was the protector of creatures of the earth, of water, of the forests, of livestock, and of wealth.

Where Perun’s favorite tree was the hard and steadfast oak, Veles’s favorite tree was the bendable willow.

Veles’s favorite animals were the wolf, the bear, the snake, the owl, and the dragon.

Every year, Slavic people celebrate Veles during midwinter, between February 11th and February 24th. The Festival of Veles corresponds to the “Day of Saint Blaise,” who was the protector of cattle. After Christianization, worship of Veles transformed into worship for Saint Blaise.” In honor of Veles, people might pray for good health, and bless candles apples in hopes that they would protect them from diseases. Some of these blessed apples would also be fed to cattle, in order to protect the animals throughout the remainder of winter.

Trickster and Shapeshifter

Veles’s most striking ability was his shapeshifting prowess. Legends tell of his transformation into a myriad of forms — from the magestic dragon, coiled in a nest of wool at the roots of the World Tree, into a bear, or a snake, or even a person. The capacity to change form speaks to Veles’s mastery over the natural world and of magic.

Much like Hermes and Loki (of the Greek and Norse mythologies), Veles is a trickster. His tales often involve cunning schemes and clever escapes (particularly after having pulled some prank on Perun). Many of Veles’s transformations seem to show that he has a sense of humor (for example, changing into a pair of underwear hanging on a clothesline in order to hide from Perun after having stolen Perun’s thunderbolt).

This aspect of his character highlights the complexity of Veles’s nature, combining cunning with deceit, creation with destruction.

The Woolen Dragon

Veles, god of the underworld, and Zmej, his dragon

The imagery of Veles as a dragon lying in a nest of wool is rich with symbolism. Wool, a crucial resource, represented wealth, warmth, and protection—particularly in an ancient Slavic society that had to withstand dark, cold winters. Veles’s association with it underlines his role as a guardian of prosperity and comfort, even in the darkest recesses of the underworld.

Alternatively, Veles is sometimes portrayed as having a pet dragon. This dragon, Zmej, was sometimes tasked with sitting on one of the roots of the World Tree and guarding the entrance to Nawia, the Slavic afterlife.

Veles’s connection to the dragon might also be related to his affinity to transform into a snake. Snakes are creatures of transformations in general. They shed their skins, they on the ground but can climb trees, and when the land is warm the reemerge from their winter hibernation.

God of Music and Magic

Veles and Zmej, during their Hair Band phase

As the god of magicians and magic, Veles holds sway over the mystical forces that permeate the Slavic world. His connection to the arcane arts places him as a patron deity for those who seek to move emotions, bring wonder, or see beyond the veil.

God of the Underworld

Veles’s narratives encapsulate the essence of nature’s dualities — life and death, growth and decay, order and chaos.

While one aspect of him presides over the waters, the forests, and the fertile earth, he is also seen as having another solemn role: as the guardian of the underworld.

It is said that Veles is the supreme god over the land of Nav, which was a kind of upside down world that lay beneath the roots of the World Tree.

Some Slavs believed that you could enter Nawia through portals deep beneath the water, which was why people would sometimes pray to Veles to protect the souls of those who had died by drowning.

Nawia was portrayed as a vast green pasture, surrounded by water. This was a paradise where souls would go to rest and recuperate before choosing to be reborn to Earth, or to ascend to Prawia, the land of gods and unborn souls, before being reborn into Yawia, the land of the living.

Veles and Devana, goddess of the wilds

In many stories, Veles and Perun are portrayed as rivals in their mutual courtship of Mokosh, the goddess of the earth and the harvest. Veles and Perun also had a joint-custody arrangement in parenting Mokosh’s twin children, Jarilo and Marzanna.

But in some stories, Veles is the husband of Devana, the goddess of the hunt, the forest, and the wilds. Devana was a fiercely independent goddess, but Veles successfully wooed her by turning into a basil flower. The couple bonded over their mutual love of the forest and the wild.

Discovering the Many Faces of Veles

Veles is a complicated god who invites us to see beyond strict binaries of good and evil. He is a protector and a trickster who seems to delight in crossing boundaries.

If you would like more information on Slavic lore, please consider signing up for my Reader’s Club to get book reviews, updates on my works-in-progress, and monthly-ish notifications whenever I have a new entry in my Slavic Spirits series.

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UPDATE — This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act. Disclosure added on November 18, 2024 to align with transparency requirements under the EU AI Act.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.

Book Review: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

May 11, 2024Journal, Reviews, PolishE.S.O. Martin

Stealing Hope: The Story of The Book Thief

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak is the story of Liesel Meminger, a girl on the cusp of puberty, living with foster parents, the Hubermanns, in Nazi Germany. The book is narrated by Death, as he jumps back and forth through narrative time.

It is hard to comprehend the horrors of war. What this book attempts to do is step away from the atrocities and war crimes of World War II—which can sometimes seem too huge and horrible to understand—and it seeks to shrink the impact down to the size of one little girl.

This book is written for a young adult audience in mind, and is probably the kind of book that would be assigned in class as part of a World War II unit in junior high or high school. The atrocities of the Holocaust are mentioned, but the book does not go into graphic detail about it. There is a sense of Bad Things happening in the background—bad things are happening to other people—but the horror is never really experienced as a first-person event, as it is in Anne Frank’s diaries, or in Elie Wiesel’s Night. It’s more intellectual and poetically sad—rather than visceral.

To be honest, I have mixed feelings about this book.

On the one hand, The Book Thief is beautifully written. Without a doubt.

I sympathized with Liesel and the Hubermanns. I felt for the powerlessness of Max Vandenberg, the Jewish fist-fighter that the Hubermanns hid in their basement. I felt for Rudy Steiner, Liesel’s friend. In a lot of ways, these characters were stuck between a rock and a hard place and had no good choices.

But I’ll admit, it was hard for me to read this book. As a Polish-American with living family members who survived Auschwitz, reading about how hard WW II was for these fictional German characters felt a bit disloyal to me.

My real-life family fought in the Polish resistance. I had family members who were killed by Nazis. My family survived the concentration camps and suffered greatly under their German and Russian occupiers. Where is the sympathy for them?

What was redeeming about The Book Thief is that it shows how hard it is to be a moral person and to feel like you are having a good impact when your government is doing terrible things. Sometimes, the whole world goes sideways, and very few of us actually have any power or control in making it better, other than small acts of resistance. For Liesel, her small act of resistance is in stealing books, and in protecting Max Vandenberg and his story.

When I look to the world we currently live in and the heartless choices our own governments make, I have to admit, I feel a little bit powerless and overwhelmed. The humanitarian crisis at our boarders. The wars. The bombings. The terror. The global warming. The overfishing. The factory farms. What power do I have to change these horrible things?

I have voted in every election since I turned 18, but my vote has usually gone to the losing side. Sometimes I feel like my tiny little voice is inconsequential, that nobody cares. I often feel baffled by the choices and attitudes of my fellow Americans.

Books like The Book Thief are a reminder that doing something is better than doing nothing. Any act of resistance is better than being silent and complacent. So I continue to vote. I continue to support causes I believe in.

I continue to eat vegan, because that single choice has the largest real-world impact on my health, on the environment, on feminism, and in the ethics of how we treat animals and other people.

It’s important for my own sense of integrity to feel like I’m doing something.

Because not doing so would feel like giving up.

If cynicism is complacent obedience to The Man, then optimism is civil disobedience.

I refuse to give up, because I believe future generations deserve better. When my future grandchildren come up to me and ask what I did to try to stop the world from burning, I will not be like those complacent Germans in the 1930s and 1940s who did nothing because they “had no idea.” My acts of resistance make it easier for me to look myself in the mirror.

Thank you very much for reading this review of ‘The Book Thief.’ If you would like to be notified about more reviews like these, or if you would like to get updates about my own works in progress, please consider signing up for my Reader’s Club newsletter.

Book Review: A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

May 4, 2024Journal, ReviewsE.S.O. Martin

In the shadowed corridors of grief and adolescence, Patrick Ness’s A Monster Calls stands as a beacon of raw emotional storytelling. Originally conceived by Siobhan Dowd during her final days, the novel is a poignant exploration of a child’s journey through loss, brought to life with the haunting illustrations of Jim Kay.

The Heart of the Story:

At its core, A Monster Calls is the tale of 13-year-old Connor O’Malley, who grapples with the impending loss of his mother to a terminal illness. Connor’s life is a battleground of internal and external conflicts—from the bullies at school to the turmoil at home, where neither his estranged father nor his rigid grandmother offer solace. Amidst this turmoil, Connor finds an unlikely confidant in a monstrous Yew tree that comes to life, weaving tales that blur the lines between moral fables and harsh realities.

A Journey Through Grief:

Ness masterfully navigates the labyrinth of Connor’s emotions, portraying a character who is at once vulnerable and resilient. The monster’s tales serve as a mirror to Connor’s psyche, revealing the complexities of human nature and the painful, often messy process of coming to terms with loss. The climax, where Connor confronts his deepest fear, is a cathartic release, a raw acknowledgment of the powerlessness and rage that accompanies grief.

The Power of Storytelling:

What sets this novel apart is its unflinching honesty in addressing the depth of a child’s emotions. Ness does not shy away from the dark and tumultuous; instead, he delves deep, presenting a narrative that is both harrowing and healing. The book’s acknowledgment that children can harbor profound grief and rage, and yet remain innocent, is a narrative feat that resonates deeply.

Jim Kay’s illustrations are more than mere accompaniments to the text; they are narratives in their own right. Stark, evocative, and beautifully unsettling, the artwork enhances the story’s emotional depth, making the monster and Connor’s journey all the more tangible.

A Monster Calls struck a chord with me for its unapologetic exploration of the darker facets of childhood. This novel, while a work of fiction, touches on universal truths about pain, loss, and healing. Grief and loss are too powerful to have to bear alone. If you, or someone you know, is hurting, please reach out to someone you trust for comfort and help.

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Perun: God of Thunder and the Overworld

April 27, 2024Journal, Slavic Spirits (series)E.S.O. Martin

One God to Rule Them All?

In Slavic mythology, there are a variety of gods who are often defined as the “supreme god” in an attempt to shoehorn Slavic polytheism into the Christian monotheistic hierarchy. Each of the slavic tribal lands had their own favorite supreme God—from Perun, to Triglav, to Rod, to Svarog.

One of the favorite Supreme Gods was Perun, God of Thunder.

Perun, Slavic god of thunder, war, and the sky

Perun: God of Thunder and War

Perun was the god of thunder, of the sky, and of the overworld. He was a towering figure, embodying the roaring power of thunder and the fierce flash of lightning.

Perun was also the god of warriors and of war. He is often depicted wearing armor and preparing to go to war. Warriors would pray to him for protection.

Perun’s presence is felt in the rumbling of storm clouds and the strike of lightning that splits the sky.

Guardian of Order and Justice

One of Perun’s jobs was to maintain order in the cosmos, wielding authority over the earth, sky, and rain.

In the Creation by Diving myth, Veles needed Perun’s help to create land because Perun had the ability to bring order and structure to chaos.

Symbolism and Worship

The oak tree, revered for its strength and endurance, is sacred to Perun, symbolizing his connection to the World Tree and to the natural world.

While the Slavs did not necessarily build temples, they would gather beneath the canopy of ancient oaks, where they sought favor with the ancestors and with the gods through offerings, song, and rituals.

Perun’s weapon, the mighty ax or hammer, symbolized his warrior aspect, and his ability to bring justice and order to those beneath him, striking down chaos and evil with the force of thunderbolts.

Perun is also symbolized by the element of fire, which often accompanies lightning and thunder. He also favored the iris flower.

Perun’s favorite animal was the eagle, and he would often take this form as he flew through the clouds. It was also said that he had a giant eagle as his familiar.

Perun is often depicted as an eagle, perched in the crown of the world tree.

The Eternal Conflict

Perun is often depicted in a perpetual struggle against Veles, god of the underworld, waters, and trickery. The conflict represents the enternal battle between sky and earth, order and chaos, mirroring the natural cycle of storms that nourish the earth and then recede.

In artistic depictions of this conflict, Perun often takes the form of a giant eagle, while Veles takes the form of a dragon, or giant serpent. In this way, this is conflict is the Slavic equivalent of the the Christian struggle of St. George and the dragon.

Perun’s Family

In the beginning of the creation story, Perun is depicted as having been one of the consorts of the earth goddess Mokosh, who gave birth to two children, Jarilo and Marzanna. The Great Battle was sparked by Perun’s jealousy over realizing Mokosh had also been seeing Veles (Perun’s chief enemy) as her other consort.

Despite this, Perun claimed both Jarilo and Marzanna as his own children, and he made them welcome in the overworld. Jarilo, he treated as his golden child. Marzanna, as a beloved daughter.

Perun’s wife was the warrior rain goddess Dodola. She was sometimes called Perperuna or Perunitsa or Perunka, signifying her relationship with Perun. Theirs was a much more harmonious partnership than the one between Perun and Mokosh had been. Slavic peoples would sing songs and do rain dances to honor and worship both Dodola and Perun in hopes that they would bring rain to their crops during times of drought.

Unlike the gods of the Greek and Egyptian pantheon, who are all blood relatives to each other, the other main gods and goddesses in the Slavic pantheon all emerged at different times from the chaos of the cosmic egg, to represent different ideas or aspects of the natural world.

Svarog emerged to represent fire. Rod emerged to represent family relations. Veles emerged to represent water and the underworld. Mokosh emerged to represent the Earth.

Some of the gods had offspring of their own, but the main Slavic gods are not blood kin to each other the way the Greek and Egyptian gods were.

Perun in the Modern World

Although the ancient Slavic religions have long since blended into other traditions and beliefs, the figure of Perun continues to inspire cultural and literary works, symbolizing the enduring power of nature an the human spirit’s quest for justice and order.

Perun’s tales are but one chapter in the rich tapestry of Slavic mythology. To delve deeper into these ancient stories and explore the legends of gods, heroes, and mythical creatures, please consider joining my free Reader’s Club. Enter your email, and you will receive monthly updates on my writing progress, book reviews, and new entries in my “Slavid Spirits” series. New Reader’s Club members will also receive a free short story as a thank you gift.

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A Celestial Birthday: The 2024 Great American Eclipse

April 21, 2024JournalE.S.O. Martin

This year’s vacation was truly a journey under the stars. As a family, we ventured from the San Francisco Bay Area to Uvalde, Texas, to witness the Great American Eclipse at the Neuces River RV Resort—a magical experience that coincided with my birthday on April 8th!

We had been lucky enough to see the previous total eclipse in 2017 in Oregon, but our son was a bit too young to remember that one. He will definitely remember this one!

This year, despite the partly cloudy skies, we had a wonderful view of the eclipse. Just as totality approached, the clouds parted, revealing the mesmerizing sight of a “double-diamond” eclipse—a rare phenomenon where sunlight sparkles through lunar valleys.

The world around us plunged into twilight; the temperature dropped, and the crowd erupted into cheers and wolf-howls. For nearly four magical minutes, we were enveloped in darkness, witnessing what felt like a cosmic miracle.

Celebrating my birthday under such circumstances was extraordinary. I joked with my husband that he was the ultimate romantic for having brought me both the sun and the moon on my birthday. But this family trip together was truly a gift beyond compare.

The rest of our journey was a lot of fun, even though it involved many days of intense driving. In two weeks we drove for more than 60 hours and covered more than 3,800 miles in the car. Our route took us down to Morro Bay, where we got to see a SpaceX rocket launch. From there, we went east to spend a couple days at the Grand Canyon, then to Texas. On our return trip, we visited Pismo Beach.

When I was a kid, my family did a lot of road trips, and one of the highlights of long car rides for me is getting to listen to audiobooks. It was really fun to get to share that joy with my husband and son.

Together, we delved into Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything, which is a humorous non-fiction book about science. Our family loves science and we love humor, so this was a perfect fit for us. It was the perfect book to listen to while contemplating the geological history of the desert of the American Southwest, and the miracle of cosmic bodies migrating across the heavens. Bill Bryson does such a good job capturing the human stories behind scientific discoveries.

My husband and I also enjoyed listening to several of Tony Hillerman’s Leaphorn & Chee novels as we drove across the desert. This was the perfect set of books to listen to, as we drove past many of the landmarks mentioned in the books. We listened to The Blessing Way, Dance Hall of the Dead and People of Darkness. Hillerman’s books are more than just mysteries; they paint vivid pictures of the Navajo Nation and the Southwestern landscape. His writing brings to life the region’s magic and nature, enhancing our journey with stories as compelling as the landscapes themselves.

Reflecting on this trip, it’s the shared experiences and discoveries that stand out—the cosmic dance of an eclipse, the stories of land and sky, and the laughter and wonder our family shared. Each mile brought us closer in ways that only a cross-country road trip could.

If you would like to read more blog posts like these, feel free to sign up for my Reader’s Club newsletter. The newsletter is free, and provides monthly updates on blog posts, book reviews, and my works in progress. As a thank you for signing up for my newsletter, you will also receive a free story.

Book Review: The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult

April 20, 2024Journal, Reviews, PolishE.S.O. Martin

Jodi Picoult’s The Storyteller weaves a complex tapestry of narratives that delve into the depths of human guilt, redemption, and the enduring impact of historical atrocities on personal identities and familial legacies. Through the intertwining lives of Sage Singer, a baker grappling with the loss of her mother, Josef Weber, an elderly man with a dark secret, and Malinka, a Holocaust survivor, Picoult challenges the reader to confront the uncomfortable moral ambiguities of justice and forgiveness.

Interwoven Narratives:

At the heart of the novel is Sage Singer, who, while trying to navigate her own sea of grief and guilt, encounters Josef Weber, a beloved community figure with a hidden past as a Nazi commander. This revelation sets off a moral quandary for Sage, whose Jewish heritage and familial connections to the Holocaust, through her grandmother Malinka—a survivor of Auschwitz—deepens the narrative’s exploration of historical memory and its implications for the present.

Malinka’s storyline provides a harrowing glimpse into the Holocaust’s dehumanizing brutality, capturing the desperation, resilience, and the indomitable will to survive amidst unthinkable horrors. Her stories, particularly the haunting dark fantasy tale she composed during her imprisonment, serve as a testament to the power of storytelling as a means of endurance and escape from the grim reality of the concentration camps.

Themes of Endurance and the Power of Storytelling:

Picoult masterfully uses the motif of storytelling as a form of resistance against the erasure of history and the diminishment of human suffering. Malinka’s fantastical horror story, set in a Polish village plagued by mysterious disappearances and vampiric entities, not only provides a stark contrast to the real-life terror of Auschwitz but also underscores the vital role of imagination as a sanctuary from pain.

The novel’s exploration of the complexities of survivorship—highlighting the roles of luck, endurance, guilt, and the human capacity for both cruelty and kindness—resonates deeply with those familiar with the lasting scars of historical traumas. Malinka’s role as storyteller shows that stories serve a crucial function in offering temporary respite from pain. This is a nuanced perspective on the value of literature and art in coping with grief and trauma.

Personal Reflections:

This book had personal significance for me, because both my grandmother and great-grandmother survived the horrors of Auschwitz. The Storyteller acknowledges the generational pain, and the cathartic power of storytelling in processing and understanding trauma.

The Storyteller is not just a novel; it’s an invitation to reflect on the multifaceted nature of humanity and the indelible impact of our histories on our present selves.

For those drawn to stories that venture into the shadows to find the light, I encourage you to join my Reader’s Club newsletter. Here, we explore tales that, much like Picoult’s narrative, navigate the intricate dance between darkness and redemption, offering insights into both the fantastical and the all-too-real aspects of our existence. Together, let’s explore the stories that shape us, haunt us, and ultimately, heal us.

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