By the way Ikabods - there are so many repetitions in your various tirades - that I am barely able to get through half of what you chose to share over and over again. I am sure I am not alone in that. Amen.

The easiest response is that Janis is not a god, or god himself. It’s facinating to see that some Latvians want to creeat a god of their choosing, rather than accept the only God that offers them salvation, i.e, Jesus Christ.

Janis? Laima? Perkons? You must be kidding me.

Part 1. This post in 2 parts.

From the arch-Christian point of view, Jānis is a God equal to what some chest-beating neo-Christian claims for Jesus. This is not that Jesus, too, is not a God. The difference is that neo-Christians sent Jesus beyond the clouds and even the stars, while the arch-Christians keep their Jānis (also John (John the Baptist among them), Jean, Ian, Ivan, etc.) right here on Earth. The reason why 2000 years of neo-Christendom (a claim to years to be taken without a grain of salt as A. Fomenko suggests) has brought no peace is that it presents a mind lost in a rhetoric it can make credible only by waging violent crusades, by fulfilling it by acts of extreme willfulness and arrogance. As the Latvians say, quoting one of their poets, “work is short, talk is long”. Latvians prefer work over empty rhetoric and do not enjoy being saved from themselves by those who know nothing about them. Yes, we find it “soothing” to be able to claim our own Gods—among which Jānis is among the foremost. The posts at this site by myself (and in due time, I hope others) are meant to bridge the forced alienation from ourselves that such as one of the posters above would do.

But, Ikabods, ‘igNobel’ as your attacks are, your input, if a little less strident, is welcome. As a Chinese proverb would say: Dialogue furthers. The civil war between arch-Christians and neo-Christians, Earth and empty sky, is nothing new. In any case, I resume the presentation of God Jānis.

Until rather recently, the larger portions of the Latvian people were engaged in agriculture, which fact made them, more or less, a people who stayed in one place—when in their own land. This is not to say that wars did not create huge disturbances and people did not flee in this or that direction. The Great Northern War (1700-1721) left Vidzeme a place “where only dogs are left howling” (it killed the Livonians, and the Letgalians entered the vacuum), WW1 produced a flight largely into Russian territories (650,000 Latvians either died or did not return), and WW2 send a couple of hundred thousand Latvians fleeing to Sweden and Germany (mostly) whence they dispersed to all corners of the world.

But the myth that most Latvian recall is that they are agriculturalists. This myth probably did not get much credence until the 17th-18th centuries.

Part 2 of 2 posts.

We should really take another look at our past, and if we do, we are likely to discover that we are much more bound up with the forest than field. Of course, the fields of wheat, oats, potatoes, and turnips are there now and were also then, but these came after the forests were cut down by the German ruling class to pay for their wars and built their cities. Until the beginning of the twentieth century Riga was largely a German city, and until the famed Jugendstill (~1910 on) stone facades, it was also a city largely built of wood.

While the West Europeans (Germany, France, England, etc.) recklessly cut down their trees early (mid-second millennium) to build their battle ships and cities, which sent timber prices soaring (and became a lucrative source of income for those who owned land), the trees of Eastern part of Europe were spared for much longer. The mass destruction of east European forests came into full swing just before the advent of the age of steam and photography. First photographs show logs being rolled down riverside embankments and tied into huge rafts which the Latvians called “plosti” and floated to Riga. The first railroad in Latvia is the Riga-Daugavpils (Dinaburg) line, built 1861 (about the time the American Civil War started). Others railroad lines went to Jelgava (Mitau),. Liepaja (Libau), etc. followed. There are plenty of photos of railroad wagons loaded with timber.

The comparatively late loss of woods in Eastern Europe is one of the main reasons why the Balts remained rooted in their own cultures. This is not to say, that neo-Christianity did not cut demoralizing rhetorical swaths into this culture by way of roads, horse and wagon, and cavalry, and begin to replace ancient customs by renaming festivals and inserting new names into old stories and songs. But whatever it is that is unique to the Balts, they can thank their forests for protecting them from globalization campaigns of neo-Christianity, and the barons and businesses which exploited the religious “softening up” process to their economic advantage.

During the Second World War, the Balts (and Slavs) could still look to their forests as a place of protection and resistance. The Latvian “meža brāļi” (brotherhood of the forest) were the resistance fighters against the Soviet occupants; while a similar brotherhood of Russians (and sometimes Latvians, too) fought against the Germans. Thus, the concept of the woods as a place of protection for beast and man escaped (at least on the subjective level) the soulless rationalism of utilitarianism. But that subjectivity has now vanished, and the forest is seen by their owners as a commodity like any other.

Today the Latvians are stripped of their forest cover and are exposed to the worst effects of their northerly location (a wintry climate with deep snow now turned to mere slush). The country, weakened by the Soviet occupation and demoralized by a leadership brainwashed by Western “advances”, resembles a truckload of eggs spilled on the highway, which are covered up by copy-cat claims as the latest expressions in Pop art.

Jānīts [ganiņš] gana ceļmalā,
Jāņpalīgu gaidīdams;
Garām brauca augsti kungi,
Tie nedeva Jāņpalīgu.  LD 29 557

Prose translation: Little Johnny the herdsman is herding his pigs (or cows, or sheep) by the roadside. The baron or other high-ranking folks (no doubt also the priest) are driving by. Johnny expects a greeting that says ‘[God] John help you’, but the upper caste gives him no recognition whatsoever. Note, I have substituted the name Jānis for God to show the brainwashing process that so many ‘upconstructed’ dainas serve.

Well Jandz, I’m glad that you are awake a in a mood to debate.

Your last post is most confusing. Your earlier posts seem to suggest an undying allegiance to Janis as a Latvian God sadly overlooked by the Latvian masses.

You say “ I have yet to see anyone write that they are worshipping Janis - have you?”
Actually, you are the first person I have encountered who seemed to suggest that Janis is a diety of some sort.

Then you say “The way you carry on at times - it seems that you might consider resurecting the Spanish Inquisition or something of the kind. “

It sounds kind of harsh, I don’t think I advocated killing people that didn’t agree w me, perhaps you can point out a passage of my writings that would support your claim, and then at least I might be able to explain that section that you didn’t understand.

Then you say “Perhaps you could provide one article that is actually writen by God - or Christ for that matter” I have a simple answer to that… the Bible is the written word of God. I believe every word of it. What’s your point?

Further you say “Did you ever consider that with that being the case - that they may just be different people’s interpretations of one and the same god. May Christ forgive you for your judgemental ways.”

Really.... there is only one interpretation of God, which is the one written about in the Bible. You want to suggest that many interpretations are acceptable because they fit your world view. This isn’t the fact. And for some reason you add that perhaps Christ should forgive me. I think that’s the first time you used the name of Christ in these many writings. Mostly it was Johnny boy.

Very simply, Janis is not a god, never was, never will be. You seem to be promoting this thought, and talk about your “forthcoming book on this subject” ....a book doomed to history’s dustbin because it has no merit.

You want to promote the thought that multiple gods are ok because what...? It suits you? There is no other God but God, His son Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

While many of the other writings about Dievturiba on these posts have been an eye opener into the real lack of spirituality in Latvians, your posts, a feable attempt to make Janis a god, sadly not recognized are the the most ludicrous I have encountered.

Not because of the stupidity of this idea, sad because you really seem to believe it to the point of making websites and writing books about it. The sad part is knowing that you are wasting important years of your life on this crap.

Sniks, what else would you expect from me?

Of course there are many repetitions. Mostly because the other respondants continually go off in multiple directions with their “tirades” . My response remains consistant and repetitive.

I’m the only voice of Christ on this forum so far, much to my own shock and dismay.  A constant barrage of Jesus is all you can expect from me over and over again..... Sorry if that bothers you but… I don’t care.

Ikabods - you are truly a sanctimonious piece of work. You obviously cannot comprehend anything. There is only one god - and most people accept that - and you certainly more than welcome to have your beliefs and defend them - but can you not get it into head that there has always been an interest in other deities that have existed over the years.

I personally am thinking of starting a movement to elevate Bugs Bunny to a state of divinity where he even lunatics will have a deity more to their liking. From some of what you drivel at times - you may indeed qualify for membership.

Over the course of your writings in this form - where ever it is convenient - man’s interpretation of the the bible isn’t necessarily right. I guess only yours must be!

Was Odin a god? Was Loki a god? Was Zeus a god - was Neptune - was Djaus - was Ra? Even in today’s world - there are still more than just your two deities being worshipped by large numbers of faithful.

You cannot even seem to remember who you are responding to in your critiques - in that you quoted my stabs and credited them to another - and by the way I begged that God forgive you - not Christ.

You seem to be lacking in key virtues that are of the bible. The main phrase that comes to mind is that the meek shall inherit the earth. You are most certainly not meek - but are rather selfrighteous to the nth degree. I guess even with Christ - you will not be deemed worthy of heaven.

Most neo-Christians or at least Ikabod Ozols, per his post above, apparently believe that all they need to know is that “…the Bible is the written word of God”. That is a message from the bully pulpit. It is a little late in the day to preach inerrancy except among the uneducated. As far as I know, most people believe that human beings did the writing, and that these human beings were in the service of secular princes who had the money to pay them a salary to do it. While I am not a member of Dievturi, to hear Ikabod say “…Dievturiba is nonse…” shows appalling ignorance of a group of people doing much needed educational work in the strengthening of Latvian identity.

The name of Christ had long existed before being appended to and appropriated for the exclusive use of Jesus. Among the old Latvians, the word was not capitalized, but went under the name of “krusts”, cross. Whenever a Latvian drew his hand in a ‘krusts’ across his chest, he ‘krustojās’, not ‘kristījās’. When women wrapped their long shawls across their shoulders, they used to cross them in front, and then bind it with a knot at the back or tuck them behind the belt of the skirt up front. This is a “skusts”. I mentioned in an earlier post that in some places in Belloruss there remains a custom of so binding sacred stones to this day. The name ‘Christianity’ itself may derive not as some claim in Antioch (re, per Wikipedia: in the New Testament and Bible, in Acts 11:26: “the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch"), but from the name Krstjan. Krstjan = Kr(u)(i)stjan. The name, likely reflects the name used by arch-Christians of the Byzantine Empire and is from Bosnia. It was a name for the ordained clergy, and corresponded to the perfect of Western Catharism. (Source: Malcolm Lambert, The Cathars, Blackwell Publishing.) Incidentally, Antioch was the first notable city captured by the Franj (a colloquial Arab name for those from France and other descendants of the Vikings in northwestern Europe). It is from here that the early “crusaders” (conquistadores in another language) went south, captured the holy city of Iliyā (the name by which the Egyptians knew the city), renamed it Jerusalem (also meaning holy city, but by another etymological path), and then continued to Egypt to rob the graves of pharaohs of their gold and other valuables.

What particularly interests us is the combination of the two words, re: krst + jan. Obviously, both words have their separate uses, but it is just as obvious that when they are stood next to each other, they come to mean “ordained clergy”. To this day the Name’s Day calendar of Latvians shows the name ‘Krišjānis’ (Krishjans) in common use. Like all names that wish to make an identity specific, the name has two parts, originally probably ‘Krust Jānis’. In short, Krusts was the first name, Jānis the last name. Krusts most likely signified the cross thrown upon the waters by the Sun.

Last, but not least, the Hindu God Krishna, too, may be related to Jānis and Jesus. The tradition that Jesus was nailed to a cross is as much an invention as being born of a virgin. There are various traditions of Krishna’s death. In one, he is shot by an arrow or arrows and pinned to a tree. A spear can do as much. Another tradition has Krishna and Jesus just ‘hang’ from a tree. The manner of death of Jānis has been erased from the records, but we do know that Jānis wears the halo of the mightiest tree of them all, the oak tree. The wreath of oak leaves is given the sacrifice by the holy tree itself.

Acts 5:30: “The God of our fathers raised up Jesus...hanging him on a tree. 
Acts 10:39: “...hanging him on a tree.”
Acts 13:29: “...they took him down from the tree...”
Galatians 3:13: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.”
1 Peter 2:24: “...who his own self bare our sins in his body upon the tree...”

The name Jānis is for practical purposes universal, and when we speak about it, it cannot be limited to the Latvians, even if we only speak about the Latvian God.

“Jānis” is a cognate of the English “John”, the French “Juan” or “Jean”, the German “Johan” or “Hans”, the Spanish “Huan”, the Italian “Giovanni”, the Russian “Ivan”, and so almost ad infinitum. John also had other more ancient names that either morphed into different pronunciations or stayed in their older form as, for example, the Nordic “Wotan” (Jotan) or English “Yvain”, and place names such as the Chinese “Dzhong” for fort, “Donjon” being the name for the tower that once stood as the centerpiece of French castles, a word that morphed into “dungeon”. See the famous, now destroyed, donjon at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Château_de_Coucy If you wish to see more, search for “keep” at Wikipedia, not least because “keep” is what we need to do for Jānis/John.

These many meanings of one and the same word suggest not only that it is an ancient word, but that it was universal, and had such significance that people found almost infinite direct and tangential uses for it. If Latvians can get their stuff together, they can still make a serious contribution to the self-understanding of the world, since they are among the few who still have a direct (if tentative) link to the name.

Just to stress the importance of the word Jānis once again: the Italian “Digiovanni” echoes to the Greek “Dionysius”, a God and the father of tragic theatre. In 1920, J. A. Jansons, wrote a paper called (in transl.) Why we [Latvians] should base our tragic theatre on Jānis and Veļi days. Jansons recalls that Jānis had been the father of the souls of the departed (veļi) and not only a God of revelry. If nothing else, the article reminds us that less than a hundred years ago Latvians could imagine Jānis in the role of creator of an important aspect of Latvian culture. Today some of the comments of the descendants of those Latvians, both home and abroad, have put Jānis here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7Moa8hDzrk&feature=related Of course, that is tragic, too, but J. A. Jansons did not have the tragedy of demoralization in mind.

I would think that the gap between J.A. Jansons and the last web site above—an obvious hole in the head (from an educational and spiritual point of view) and sometimes in the ground as well—is proof enough of what the Soviet Union and neo-Christianity have contributed to the self-confidence of the arch-Christian Latvian community. It is at this last point that I have my differences with the Dievturi movement, which has, in a critical time for Latvian self-identity, remained pretty much stuck in the 1920s.

There is no question that many English speaking descendants of Latvians mistakenly call “Jānis Day” St. John’s Day. Anyone who gives the neo-Christian explanation for this ritual a closer examination will see that this is an effort to „neo-Christianize” an ancient Holy Day of the Sun (Mother) and her son Jānis. Attempts are still being made to chase what remains of the native tradition off the stage by vulgarizing and degrading it further. Though the demoralization of “Jāņu bērni” (the name of the participants in the festival) into anonymous revelers is regrettable, the spiritual smothering of a native tradition by an invasive belief system is not yet complete. Hopefully the commercialization of Jānis Day can be resisted and arrested. Time will tell.

The following are from Wikipedia and tell something about the Jānis Day festival in a number of countries. The festival is also celebrated in Macedonia, Serbia, Ukraine, Poland, etc.

Ivan Kupola Day in Russia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Kupala_Day
John’s Day in Lithuania http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Jonas'_Festival
John’s Day in Estonia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaaniõhtu
John’s Day in Latvia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jāņi

Semic http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semik recalls the ties of the Janis Day festival to “Veļi Days”, the days when the living met the souls of their ancestors.

Also from Wikipedia, relating to a Lithuanian God: “Kupole, the spirit of springtime vegetation and flowers. The Festival of Kupolė (Kupolinės) was associated with Feast of St. John the Baptist (Jonines). In this festival, women picked sacral herbs, danced and sang songs. Kupolinės is also known as Rasos….” In Latvian “rasa”=dew.

Words are fluid. The Webster’s Dictionary tells us that a “cupola” is a turret, a dome, a rounded roof, and; we may imagine, a “cap” or hat. Of course, the word “cup” is a small vessel, diametrical opposite the image of a cap or cupola. When one is looking at words, one has to look at them as one looks at a cut diamond if one is to catch the many echoes of meaning and the spiritual light it contains.
If we examine the meaning of “cup” and “kupola” more closely, we will arrive at the Turkish word “kapi”, which means a gate, a door. But that same word in Latvian means “kaps”, a grave, which is also a door, but to the underground world. The Lithuanian God or Spirit Kupole, associated with springtime vegetation and flowers, rings a bell as a water rite. One of the spring rites once common in Latvia used to be called “rumulēt”. It was celebrated by the farm household on the first day the cattle were let out of the barn onto the grazing fields. Everyone doused everyone with water, and usually the dousing came as a surprise from someone standing around the corner or a bucket of water above the door. It was a special day for the herder or “gans”, a word related to “gens” as well as “jans”. The word “rumulēt” was also applied to the washing of sheep. The Latvians call a lamb “jērs”, a word likely related to “year” (English) and “Jahr” (German), and thus recalls the annual sacrifice made in spring, perhaps Easter. The name may also form the first part of Jeru+salem, the Slavic equivalent of which is Jaro+slav, “jaro"=spring, strong, etc.; “slav” standing for “slava”, glory.

If one searches for meaning of Jānis Day, one may of course accept the orthodox neo-Christian explanations, but that means trying to arrest time and stop the imagination. Arch-Cristianity, of which Janis Day is an important element, is more imaginative than that. The day has its “fun” element, but this should not lessen the fact that it “slavē” (praises) Jāņus.

Though erased from memory, one of the functions of Jānis was (like that of the Greek Charon with his wolf’s ears) to carry across the river the spirits of the dead. We have no overt recollection of such a river in Latvian mythology. Nevertheless, the “upconstruction” of Latvian folk poems/ verses/ songs by missionaries and positivists, the latter unaware that they were annihilating the past, may reveal some of the scars left by the editors.

In an earlier post, I mentioned the underground river Ādere, which has now been forgotten except as an underground stream searched for by dousers with their dousing rods. I ought to have mentioned that there is also a common belief among Latvians that an “ādere” directly under one’s bed (no matter how far down) may cause sleeplessness and even illness. This belief is fairly common even to this day.
There may be a hint of Ādere in the well known Latvian folk song “Aiz upītes es uzaugu”. The melodic arrangement by Andrejs Jurjāns (1856-1922) uses two melodic lines, one for the brother, and another for the sister. Biographical references state that the arrangement of two melodic lines by the composer is innovative, but offers no details. In any case, the verses speak of a young woman who says that she was born on the other side of the river. Her brother then sings to her in an altered and sorrowful voice: “Nāc māsiņa atpakaļ…” Come back, dear sister.” The sister refuses, claiming that she was abducted by her bridegroom, and is happy enough to stay on her side of the river. The sister also states that she will not return whether her brother calls her or not. When the brother pleads again, the sister states that he has an unpleasant bride that she does not wish to be with. The excuse seems like a copout. Another version of the verse has the sister state that she was badly treated. Surely illness can treat one badly. Yet another version has it that the young woman wanders along the shore of a river when she meets some boatmen. The boatmen are presented as men come looking for a bride. But for all we know, originally there may have been only one boatman, one Jānis, who took one across the river Ādere to the Netherworld.
Today the song is presented, more or less, as a wedding ritual of days gone by. There is no question that that is how almost everyone thinks of the song, and it is true that this version is not from just one locale. But the melody sung by the brother suggests sorrow to a degree that makes one wonder why. Was the composer perhaps putting back into the song what positivist influences had removed from it? In other words, the opposite of a wedding song is a dirge. There are other folk songs which suggest that on the other side of the river (aiz upītes) there are „…augsti kalni,/ Tur sarkanas ogas aug:/ Tur Saulīte noiedama/ Ik vakarus gauži raud”. Translation: „On the other side of the river there are high mountains. Red berries grow there. There the sun sets shedding bitter tears.”

Forgive me - and I do not make any claims to know that much on the beliefs of passing to eternity, but what I have heard speaks of a mountain that must be climbed, and not of a river. I have often heard Janis to be linked to livestock, and the bounty of harvests, and much more - but do not ever recall him being depicted as a boatman. I also find that his most definate link to fertility of all types - would likely exclude him from a significant death role. That would be too conflicting with the very celebration of the soltice, and the magic conected to the various rite. Sorry - but this one seems too far out - at least to me.

Sniks, one of the problems of a chicken is that if its head is forced to the pavement and its eyes are set to look down a white line, it will remain looking at that white line. This is one of the problems that a people subject to violence and long-term whitewash need to overcome. “The Unknown Story of Mao” by Jung Chang and Jon Halliday is enlightening with regard to the destruction Mao wrought and brought about with regard to Chinese traditions. The violence suffered by the Baltic nations is not some long ago story. Its effects remain profound and demoralizing to this day.

One of the ways of overcoming the problem is to start looking around and seeing what other cultures have retained of their ancestors’ past. So far, the Latvians have not been doing it to any significant degree. Some time ago, I was told by a well known Latvian poet that Latvians can be proud that they are the only people who celebrate Jānis Day with a wreath of oak on their heads. But as far as I could tell this is all that he knew about Jānis or was interested in. Also, government support for education is below maintenance level. So, no wonder that no new associations and ideas are brought to “folklore” or are even attempted.

I will be adding a new post tomorrow, and add new ones as time allows. If you wish to know the broader perspective from which these posts evolve, you may look under the “Latvian” window at my home site. The first six chapters in Latvian are available for a download. The English language version is available at the window called “Book”. I believe I left the address with a post on page one.

Marija Gimbutas wrote much on Baltic Mythology - and naturally certain traditions are very much linked to the Lithuanians. While I have never examined much of their reasons, the Finns also celbrate the solstace in a remarkably sililar fashion to Latvians (only have heard this). Very close to us geographically. Many splits in cultures (the Balts included) were a direct result of religious or worship disagreements between different factors or tribes of a culture (that’s why a Lithuanian’s son is a Latvian’s dog - and vice versa). Once time has gone by - there unfortunately isn’t an accurate manner in which to assess which faction retained, and which faction altered the original worship traditions. If there had been a written history - of course it would be simpler. But seeing as the written language in these cultures is relatively young - most of the the information came from traditional folkolore. If you cannot tell who changed - how can you fairly compare one tradition to the other? Oral history can often be interesting - but how often can it have changed just on the basis of somebody’s whim?

Before the transformation of the Netherworld into hell, the ancients had divided the universe into an image of six doors. One door led from the past to the future, another door went from the underground upward to the surface of our Earth; while two more doors showed the way to the north and south, the latter completing the figure of a rectangular ball or hexagon. The doors slipped into each other as in the following drawing of Escher: http://www.eskimo.com/~earther/HonGeo/images/neckercube.jpg Not that our forebears would have drawn such an image. Theirs was a much simpler one: 1. the past went through a door to the future; 2. the main directions were east-west, north-south; and 3. up and down. The downside was not hell—as later neo-Christianity drew it—but, let us calls it, “zemteksts”. The word “teksts” contains within itself the word “tecēt” as in water flows. This enables us to imagine Zemteksts as Zemtece, i.e., what flows below us. As the English poet William Blake saw it, Zemtekste is guarded by Cerberus; see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Cerberus-Blake.jpeg But Cerberus—before he became Cerberus—was a wolf. If you wanted to visit the world of Zemtekste (psychologists might prefer to call it the unconscious), you had to face the wolf, but then, most likely, the same thing would happen to you that happened to Red Riding Hood and Jonah. You have to risk getting swallowed and trust that somehow you will survive and be spit out again.

The human brain has two spheres, right and left, which are connected by a cord called in anatomy the corpus colossum. You may see an image of it at http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0009JXO8W.01.LZZZZZZZ.jpg In real life though, the two entities merge to form one consciousness. In cases of brain injuries where one side suffers irrepairable damage, if the injury happens at an early age, one half of the brain may learn to do the job for the whole brain. But that is not why I bringing up the subject. I mention the corpus colossum, because Zemtekste and the world of Daylight and Sun are connected by a spirit who our forebears knew as God Jānis. He was the force that connected the Sun with the Moon, life and death, neither of which was complete without the other. In his function of connector or linker, it is of course more imaginative to present Jānis as God—whether a “ferryman” or doorkeeper—rather than call him corpus colossom or, say, an electric cord.

God Jānis, the link, did not just connect the living with the dead, the Sun with the Moon (the latter once called “Mēnesnica”—also feminine gender, thus, most likely the Sun’s sister), but bound together the entire community. This is why the community honored Jānis with Festivals at the four cross points in time and space: the summer- winter and spring-autumn solstices. These solstices fit neatly into the south-north and east-west pattern, while managing to include life and death, the up and the down. To do all this linking, Jānis had to be something of a magician. Besides, the connecting is not just to get two or more monkeys to hold hands. Jānis has to do something of a transcendental nature to get everyone’s free will to accept it. No doubt, that is why he is a God.

I will end with another deconstructed folk song.
Kur jūs skriesiet, melni kraukļi,
Pašā Jāņu vakarā?
Nest Dieviņam [Dievam] bēdu vēsti:
Saules māte [Māmuliņa] nomirusi.  405 [Smiltenes Vlk]. 49596.

I make the following interpretive translation: „Where are you flying to, black ravens, this very Jānis Eve? We are flying to tell the God of Day that our Mother the Sun has died.” As a Latvian reader will note, I have made several substitutions in the verse. I have changed „Dievam” to „Dieviņam”—because in Latvian mythology Dieviņš is not the monotheistic Christian God, but the God of Daylight. And I have replaced „Māmuliņa” (mother) with „Saules māte” (mother Sun). With these changes, the verse is no longer a mystery, but tells that Jānis Eve rites are about the resurrection of Mother the Sun. This makes the ritual an echo of the ritual of the Sumerian Goddess Iananna in which she descends to and then returns from the Netherworld.