EBEN F. COMINS ONE of the most repellent monsters ever carved by man, yet one of the most compelling, is the Aztec goddess of earthCuatlicue.1 What great philosophy or cult could have caused the Aztecs of Mexico over six centuries ago to form such a conception of a deity, with so few human attributes to explain its meaning, only conjecture can suggest. So cosmic in power is this great mother that she continually devours the sun as it rises from and sets into the earth, her womb, from which come food and life, war and death. She also demands the sacrifice to her of endless draughts of human blood that she may return them as super-strength to her son, the god of war, Huitzilopochtli,2 and to all Aztec warriors. For a better appreciation of the conception and details of this colossus, comparison with Old World art will be helpful. The Egyptians conceived their greatest monument of mysterious life, the Sphinx, as half animal, half human, the human part being simply an enigmatic face with stereotyped features. The Greeks depicted their Zeus as a mighty deified mortal grasping a bundle of thunder bolts. Later the Romans followed suit with a tame copy-Jupiter. With the Jewish religion. and the advent of Christianity, God became the supreme, all-knowing being, and Michelangelo painted Him as an elderly father with the features and flowing beard and locks of a benign old. gentleman. Of the Christian renderings, Copyright 1943 by Eben F. Comins. 1 Pronounced approximately Cwaht-lée-kway. 2 Pronounced approximately Weet-zee-lo-póach-llee. those of William Blake, the Englishman of the last century, depict Him best. Though Blake's interpretations are only small water colors, he develops a sexless human that at least suggests a creative superman of Godlike qualities. Yet these examples show how dependent on human attributes sculptors and artists have been in telling their story. But not so convention-bound was an Aztec sculptor of long ago. Here in heroic proportions this goddess of earth and fertility is shown as a composite of symbols so mighty and gruesome that the idea that she is human, a woman, is practically lost sight of. In one mammoth block of basalt, she measures approximately four by five feet; she is nine feet high and weighs at least five tons. Dominating all is the head, a crushed oblong mass: a head, yet not a head, for the goddess's head has been severed from her body, and in its place have been put two ponderous serpents' heads in profile facing each other, their combined features forming the eyes, and the two mouths, with sets of fangs, the mouth. How much more convincing and dramatic is this occult rendering of the mysterious than its depiction by a human face with handsome features or flowing beard! For arms, two banded forms, terminating not in hands but in snakes' heads, are joined to each side. Again the sculptor uses these symbols the better to express mystery and power. For feet, huge claws are attached to stunted blocks serving as legs. Between them coils another serpent whose head and fangs, much damaged, lap over the base, as into the earth, while In the National Museum at Mexico City stands this impressive representation of the Aztec earth goddess. SIDE VIEW OF STATUE FROM REAR The fact that the figure leans forward shows that it was meant to be looked at from below. its compact body coils upward to disappear into the body above. For clothes, a sash of interwoven snakes hangs around the formless waist, the decorative pendant heads and rattles serving as tassels. In the center is the outstanding unit of the whole statue, a human skull, its two beady eyes duplicating those of its parent above. Although used as a decorative buckle to hold the sash, this death's head is a grim reminder of man's greatest gift, his return of life to his mother-life and death rotating in the perpetual succession of fecundity. A strange effect is caused by the deep depression between the breasts, one of the few smooth surfaces in the whole statue. From this ominous cavity the skull appears to emerge as if from the very womb. To represent the merciless demands of Cuatlicue and to adorn her body, a necklace of severed hands and plucked-out-alive hearts festoons her pendant breasts, the only mark of womanhood. The meticulous accuracy with which these hands are carved with their correct joints, fingernails, even lines of the palms, shows that the sculptor knew well his anatomy, and could have given the goddess a head of stylistic beauty if he had wished; edicts and conventions stayed his hand, and dictated that he use his imagination and genius to portray the creative forces in a purely impersonal and elemental manner. All the above surfaces, save the breasts and hands, are ornamented with deeply incised designs which catch the eye but never break the rhythm of form. One bit of carving with provocative meaning is so placed that no mortal eye can see it, for it is hidden from sight on the under side of the mighty mass. It represents Tlaltecutli, the earth god, and suggests a spread-out toad, the sparse lines incised about an inch deep. This piece of low relief bears the tool marks of hand far less skillful than that whi executed the rest of the statue. Someo has suggested that the whole statue m have been supported on pillars, being lifted that the under side might be look at. This suggestion is not borne out evidence, as there are no signs of su blocks, and it seems unlikely that t mental attitude of the Aztecs would ha permitted the informal gazing of idle cu osity. The carving, still perfectly fre was without doubt made to be seal upon some solid foundation beneat That man's eye was never permitted see this meant nothing. I believe it w necessary only that the all-seeing eye Cuatlicue know of its presence. The fa that the top of the snake heads and t under part of the skirt, indeed all par not easily visible, were carefully carve shows that the eye of the goddess w the only one to be considered. What we have already seen hardly pr pares us for the way this goddess must ha looked in all her original glory; for t present forms were only the foundation f color. That the whole was so treated known because remnants of red still cli to the skull. With this as a cue, one easi imagines the breasts, hands, and hearts fleshy yellow ochre, the head, arms, a legs an earthy brown, and the eyes, fang and split tongue a gleaming white-all all a resplendent monster of brown, yello ochre, red, and white. Blues and green No. One does not like to think of the pretty colors as seducing the drama Mother Earth. Besides this invitation to color, the mass and lines that go to make the figure masterpiece of design should be carefull studied. The double bow of the mouth the four fangs, and the parted tongue com to an abrupt stop at the only inner hor zontal line in the whole statue. This shor bears the to nformal gaz doubt made olid founda ye was never be nothing. I that the all- e already see e whole was s remnants of re ith this as a c easts, hands re, the head rown, and the a gleaming w monster of br not like to thi itation to col go to make th esign shoulder uble bow d d the parted Dat the or whole state straight bar between head and body gives the sharp accent needed to hold together the many curves, and is echoed by other horizontal lines that cross the two arms, and by the powerful one that edges the skirt. Beneath it flare outward the four hands and hearts whose forms swing in balanced arcs to rest upon the rounded skull. Below, in reversed curves, hang two bulbous pendant snake heads which carry the light masses downward. Grasping the ground are the eight mammoth claws that make an almost fringe-like effect at the base. The only vertical lines are the outside extremes of head, arms, and legs. Note well how the fangs of the main head, on the two arms and between the claws repeat each other and give an accented balance to the whole design. One cannot leave this study without observing the oblong plaques that hang from the two arms. They are strangely undetailed, with the exception of a finely inIcised line that runs down the middle of each, under the bottom, and up the middle of the outside. These two lines look like strings tied around packages. What could these two uninterrupted blanks have meant? One looks to lost color with some painted ornament to give them meaning. In their present state they remain an unanswerable riddle. To the casual observer the whole statue appears overbalanced, topheavy, almost ready to fall onto the beholder. This effect is no mistake of the spectator's, but was premeditated on the sculptor's part, for the statue does lean forward; and why? Because it was originally placed to be looked up to from a flight of steps below, and thus be seen as an overwhelming monster ready to consume its worshipers. The profile view clearly accentuates this forward leaning. Only a sculptor of great imagination and knowledge of dramatics and of architecture could have had vision enough to foresee and master such a problem. The back view of the statue is almost a duplicate of the front, the head of double snakes being a replica. The necklace of hands and hearts is tied in a clumsy knot at the nape of the neck, and the human skull is simply another unit in a flowing train of snake and tassel design. Having studied Cuatlicue as she now is, one feels impelled to dive back into the far past and visualize her advent into the world, to see how this astounding idea was conceived. It is not difficult to imagine some of the scenes as they probably took place. The ruler and the priests, having decided to perpetuate their fearsome goddess as a statue, call in the court sculptor. To him they dictate the story the statue must tell, and how it shall appear when placed in a small temple at the top of a steep flight of steps. The idea, form, and position agreed upon, the sculptor with his army of workmen sets forth for the quarry miles away, where the best basalt is found. The block is measured off and the workers hew it out, with only harder stones for tools, no metal durable enough to cut with having yet been discovered. Once free from the mass, the block is rolled along over smooth logs, pulled by myriads of little men harnessed to endless ropes. It seems strange that a short section of log gave these people no conception of a wheel; it was for the Spaniards, centuries later, to show the old New World this simple and easy mode of locomotion. Freed from the quarry and brought down to the water's edge, the stone is floated on sturdy rafts to the nearest landing place, and from there it is pulled to the temple. In an adobe enclosure, improvised as a studio, the sculptor marks off the forms of the various masses, and he and his associates begin to block them out. |