She will be born of the newly-formed flesh of man. The first rains in creation have fallen, turning the dry earth into malleable clay, and into that clay the breath of life has been infused. Adam, the first man, emerges from the primal soil. Adam, the giver of names. But naming the beasts of the field and tending to Paradise are surely not the only tasks for which he is destined. Adam needs the companionship of another self.
|And Adam called his wife's name Eve; because she was the mother of all living. Gen.3:20|
|But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground. Gen.2:6|
Enter the silver-tongued serpent, whispering words that slither into Woman’s very soul: words which meet with no resistance, for resistance is not in the cosmic plan. To know good and evil, to tread a realm intended only for the footfalls of gods: this, and nothing less, is on offer. How sweet the fruit, but how bitter the aftertaste. The serpent ensnares Woman, Woman ensnares Adam, and a new awareness emerges. It is not the glorious pathway to the gods. It is the stony road to a soul-deforming shame.
|And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul. Gen.2:7|
Eden is home no more, a cold world awaits, and a bright sword of flame bars any return. Only at the last moment, before being driven from the gates of Paradise, before the world beyond this perfect sanctuary is entered, before time and mortality become new realities, does Adam perform one more act of naming. He calls his wife ‘Eve’.
|But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. Gen.2:17|
My brief retelling of the Eden story in Genesis touches on elements which can be found in many folk tales and stories, from the hills of ancient Celtic lands to the walled gardens of Isfahan, which in their glory days were themselves modelled upon Paradise. The template of such stories is a familiar one: the hero or heroine finds themselves in an enchanted, idyllic place. All is well, and their sojourn may be an indefinite one – as long as they refrain from one forbidden act. That act typically involves plucking a forbidden flower, or eating a forbidden food, or drinking a forbidden beverage, which would cause the spell to be broken. Inevitably, what is forbidden proves ultimately irresistible. As soon as the flower is plucked, or the food is ingested, the world around them dissolves, the idyll shatters as glass, and they find themselves back in the world of the everyday.
|And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept; and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof. And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man. Gen.2:21-22|
At first all seems normal and familiar. Then through some occurrence, or some encounter with a former acquaintance, they realise the terrible truth: within the idyll, time has stood still. But in the world itself, a hundred years (or some other expansion of time) have passed. Time in such tales is as relative as it is in science. The Eden story is as powerful a story as has been written, and reflects all the elements embedded in the template. It is by means of this template, which transcends any religious faith, that we can unlock the door back into Paradise and discover the true meaning beyond the outward appearance of the Genesis story.
|And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. Gen.3:2-3|
The story of Eden has proven to be as tragic in its consequences as it is powerful in its telling. Tragic, not in the incidents of the story, but because of the way in which the story in scripture, and its subsequent cementing into doctrine by Augustine, Tertullian and others, has burdened the human psyche with shame and with sin – and worse.
|And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. Gen.3:6|
The story of the Fall in Genesis is a certificate of guaranteed second-class citizenship for womankind, and so it has been applied down through all the centuries. The Book of Genesis tells us that Eve disobeyed God, corrupted Adam, and ever since that fateful sampling of the fruits of Eden womankind has been picking up the tab. The very wording of the text puts the seal on Eve’s blame for man’s loss of paradise, and underscores God’s terrible punishment to woman: “Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” Which makes it crystal clear that the woman is to be subject to the man, and shall be considered as his inferior.
Eve heeds the words of the serpent, succumbs to temptation, and eats the forbidden fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. There was a dire consequence pronounced by God should this act take place: that on that day humans would surely die. The serpent whispered its own enticement in Eve’s wondering ear: that humans also would become as gods. Detractors of scripture are keen to point out that God lied, because even after eating the fruit, Adam and Eve lived on. But if we remember the template, they did not, and God was as good as his word.
|And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. Gen.3:7|
|And the LORD God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat. Gen.3-13|
What the Eden couple sacrificed was their immortality. The first man and woman are expelled from Eden before they can eat of the fruit of the other tree – the tree of life – and so regain that immortality. For them the clock was now ticking, and a day in Eden was as a hundred years in the world beyond those guardian walls, with death waiting at the end.
|Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee. Gen.3:16|
How to redeem Eve? How to undo millennia of injustice in the scriptural laying of blame at the feet of all womankind? It is possible, but to do that we will need to go deeper into the template. We will need to let go of all literal readings of this text, all the pedantry which down the centuries has been responsible for shaping scriptural doctrine. We will need to enter the very matrix where myths are born.
|…and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life. Gen.3:24|
In the state of constancy, in the eternal Now which exists beyond the material world of the everyday, the Soul (Adam) is content. The Soul has no distractions – but also no experience – and is quite happy to let things continue in that way. But the wise Spirit (Eve) knows more. The Spirit knows that in order to progress, in order to truly fulfil itself, the Soul must gain experience of the world beyond which exists in time, of the long progression from past to future, of the mortality of the flesh, and of all the joys and sorrows which come with an earthly existence. The catalyst (the serpent) is the Need To Know. The Spirit, in her wisdom, causes the Soul to fall.
|And ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. Gen.3:5|
But this is no mere fall into sin, or even a fall from grace. It is the fall into an earthly life, the fall into all which the Soul needs to experience. It is the fall into time. But the Soul does not make the journey alone. Clothed in an unfamiliar flesh, the Soul still has its companion Spirit to guide it on its journey through life. And while death comes as the end, that death is not obliteration, but a return which the wise Spirit has always known would come, and Eden will open its gates once more.
 The complete story of the Fall, and all of the scriptural quotations used in this post, are to be found in chapters 2 and 3 of the Book of Genesis. Chapter 1 has a more succinct and significantly different recounting of the creation of the first two humans. In the first account, the couple remain unnamed, and appear to have been created simultaneously. As my present post focuses on the story of the Fall, I’ll discuss these intriguing differences in a future post. (Please see my subsequently-written post: Lilith: Spirit of the Night.)
 My use of the term ‘template’ is intended to express the idea of an original pattern – a form – which exists, and from which all subsequent versions of such a ‘proto-story’ are derived. Think of it as existing in the collective unconscious, if that is what works for you, or in some external creative matrix. A parallel would, for example, be the way in which we think about an automobile. There are many different specific models of automobiles, but if we simply use the term ‘automobile’, we still have a generic picture in mind as to what an automobile is, and how it looks.
 Washington Irving’s Rip Van Winkle is a classic example of such a story, and there are many stories in folklore about those who are rash enough to enter a fairy ring and are spirited away to the fairy realm. In both of these examples time becomes relative, and appears to stand still while the protagonists remain enchanted, and a surprising number of such stories involve the partaking of forbidden food or drink of some description. In Arthur Rackham's illustration (left), the naive Rip rashly samples a clandestine draught of the dwarfs' liquor. True to folk tradition, the artist depicts Rip standing within a fairy ring of toadstools: the borders of enchantment.
 Writing in the 4th-5th-centuries, Augustine concluded that the original sin of the Fall actually was present in the seed at the moment of conception, and that a child was therefore born already corrupted with the taint of sin. His writings, which have much to say on the subject, have influenced Christian doctrine for centuries. Please see my posts Sin and Other Illusions and Shame.
 in his writings of the 2nd-3rd-centuries, the Christian Apologist Tertullian says of womankind: ‘Do you not know that you are Eve? …You are the gateway of the devil; you are the one who unseals the curse of that tree...’.
 Please see my post Forbidden Fruit for a specific identification of the fruit of Eden.
 There are several intriguing examples in these two chapters of Genesis in which there is an apparent referring to the plurality of gods, as in Genesis 3:22. ‘And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil..’ The serpent tells Eve as much when it says that humans would ‘become as gods’ were they to taste the forbidden fruit. My post A Simple Misunderstanding mentions the influence of polytheism on early Hebrew beliefs, and this runs as an undercurrent through these first chapters of scripture. There are other hints in the Mosaic Old Testament that the texts originally were written specifically naming a female deity (Asherah, the consort of Yahweh, depicted in the figurine, right), who later was edited out to leave a single male creator god in the texts. Intriguingly, Asherah (not to be confused with Ashtoreth, the goddess derived from Ishtar/Astarte) seems to have been a tree goddess - the tree in question being a 'tree of knowledge'. Hmm...
 Genesis itself is specific in its pointing to the deeper meaning of the Fall. In Genesis 3:21 we read: ‘Unto Adam also and to his wife did the LORD God make coats of skins, and clothed them.’ The ‘coats of skins’ are their new corporeal bodies. For a more complete discussion of this phrase (and more examples by artists of the expulsion of the first couple from Eden) please see my post Coats of Skins. Always radically original, the artist Max Klinger (left) gets the details right.
‘Adam’ adapted from public domain photos by Josef Zrzavy. All original ‘Eve’ photography by Hawkwood, © David Bergen Studio. Rainbow boa by Steve Gooch. ‘First rains’ photo by Hawkwood, © David Bergen Studio. Tamarind fruit: source unidentified. Fig leaf: rgbphoto. ‘Cherubim’ adapted from a painting by Edwin Howland Bashfield. Images incorporate symbols and illustrations from the 16th-century works of Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, including (on the creation of Adam) characters for the planet Mars, and (on the creation of Eve) characters for the planet Venus. Foliage adapted from Albrecht Dürer’s 16th-century engraving The Fall of Man. ‘Good and Evil’ symbols are the geomantic signs for Caput Draconis (auspicious, head of the dragon, right arm) and Cauda Draconis (malevolent, tail of the dragon, left arm), redrawn from the 19th-century works of Francis Barrett. ‘Angel of Death’ adapted from a sculpture by Louis Barrias. ‘Asherah’ figurine from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. All artwork created for this post by Hawkwood for the David Bergen Studio © All Rights Reserved.
The captions beneath the images are for the benefit of those viewing this post in a non-English language!