December 8, 2024

Aztec Calendar – Rabbit Trecena

The twentieth and final trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Rabbit for its first numbered day, which is the 8^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In Nahuatl, Rabbit is Tochtli. It was known as Lamat (Venus, Star) in Yucatec Maya, and K’anil (or Q’anil) (Seed of Life) in Quiché Maya.

The day Rabbit signifies self-sacrifice and service to something greater than oneself. Counter-intuitively, Rabbits were seen as gods of drunkenness, the Centzon Totochtin (400 rabbits) being patrons of all kinds of intoxication or inebriation. The principle rabbit deity was 2 Rabbit (Ome Tochtli or Tepoztecatl). The Aztecs counted “rabbits” for intoxication levels, from 25 rabbits for mild intoxication to 400 rabbits for complete drunkenness. Vessels for the drinking alcoholic pulque often bear rabbit symbolism and/or a crescent moon symbol called the yacametztli—relating to the goddess of the moon Metztli. In fact, Mesoamerican cultures envisioned the figure of a rabbit in the moon, which I’ve surmised was day-named 12 Rabbit.

The patron of the day Rabbit is Mayauel, the goddess of intoxication/pulque and its source, the maguey plant. Seen previously as patron of the Grass Trecena, she’s the purported mother of the Centzon Totochtin, apparently by the deity Patecatl, god of medicine and pharmaceutical intoxication. Other sources suggest that the Cloud Serpent, Mixcoatl, sired some of them, but Aztec paternity wasn’t thoroughly documented, and Mayauel was a hospitable goddess.

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE RABBIT TRECENA

One of the patrons of the Rabbit trecena is Xiuhtecuhtli (Lord of Fire and Time), whom we’ve seen in the Snake trecena. As god of the Center and the Pole Star, he’s an A-list celebrity deity. The other is variously Itztapaltotec, Stone Slab Lord, or Xipe Totec, Lord of Renewal and Liberation. The first is a nagual (manifestation) of the second and deifies the sacrificial knife.

AUGURIES OF THE RABBIT TRECENA

By Marguerite Paquin, author of “Manual for the Soul: A Guide to the Energies of Life: How Sacred Mesoamerican Calendrics Reveal Patterns of Destiny”
https://whitepuppress.ca/manual-for-the-soul/

Theme: Leadership and Renewal. During this final trecena in the 260-day cycle, the emphasis is on completion and “cutting away” what is no longer needed, in order to facilitate new growth. This can be an intense period, as combat in some areas could intensify, leading to important conclusions, as the stage is being set for new beginnings to follow in the next trecena. During this period signs or signals may appear that could indicate what lies ahead or new potentialities. This is a good time to watch for signs of change and growth, and a good time to make important decisions in preparation for the new cycle about to begin.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Lamat trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE RABBIT TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with 1 Rabbit, it continues with: 2 Water, 3 Dog, 4 Monkey, 5 Grass, 6 Reed, 7 Jaguar, 8 Eagle, 9 Vulture, 10 Earthquake, 11 Flint, 12 Rain, and ultimately 13 Flower.

There are a few special days in the Rabbit trecena:

One Rabbit (in Nahuatl Ce Tochtli) – a date in the mythic Aztec past when the cosmos was created by gods; also, one of Xiuhtecuhtli’s calendric names.

Five Grass (in Nahuatl Macuil Malinalli) – one of the five male Ahuiateteo/Macuiltonaleque (Lords of the Number 5), usually paired with the female Cihuateotl One Eagle.

Thirteen Flower (in Nahuatl Mahtlactli ihuan yeyi) – a ritually significant day of completion for the 260-day cycle; also associated with period endings, often marking the completion of significant “bundles” of time.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

Several of the surviving so-called Aztec codices (some originating from other cultures like the Mixtec) have Tonalamatl sections laying out the trecenas of the Tonalpohualli on separate pages. In Codex Borbonicus and Tonalamatl Aubin, the first two pages are missing; Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios are each lacking various pages (fortunately not the same ones); and in Codex Borgia and Codex Vaticanus all 20 pages are extant. (The Tonalpohualli is also presented in a spread-sheet fashion in Codex Borgia, Codex Vaticanus, and Codex Cospi, but that format apparently serves other purposes.)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

As described in my earlier blog The Aztec Calendar – My Obsession, some thirty-five years ago—on the basis of very limited ethnographic information and iconographic models —I created my own version of a Tonalamatl, publishing it in 1993 as Celebrate Native America!

When I started drawing my tonalamatl, I did the pages in colored pencil, often producing several versions in different color schemes in a palette of four chromatic colors (with some black and white as well): gold—for gods, red—for blood, green—for jade, and blue for turquoise. Each deity had a primary color with a secondary and highlights of the others. For the last trecena, I used models and motifs from Codex Nutall and tried to make it an even balance of all four colors. Maybe I succeeded because everyone admired this image especially.

On the first nineteen trecenas, I followed the limited information available about their patrons (not knowing all of them). Many I created from scratch from Nutall images and sketchy clues on iconography. A few were based on images from Codex Borbonicus found in old books. When I got to the last one, Rabbit, the scholarship said only that its patron was the sacrificial knife, and I found only one gruesome image, probably the monster from Tonalamatl Aubin. (See below.) As an artist, I was aesthetically and philosophically offended and decided to turn heretic.

I installed my own choice of a god as patron of the last trecena, someone considerably more appetizing. Xochipilli, the Flower Prince, is god of art, dance, beauty, ecstasy, sleep, and dreams/hallucinations. In addition, he’s variously patron of homosexuals and male prostitutes; god of fertility (agricultural produce and gardens); patron of writing, painting, and song; and god of games (including the sacred ball-game tlachtli), feasting, and frivolity. His twin sister/wife is Xochiquetzal, patron of the preceding Eagle trecena.

So much for authenticity. The neglected Flower Prince is an eminently worthy “calendar prince.” (You can see the true trecena patrons in the tonalamatls of the historical codices that follow.)

Aztec Calendar – Rabbit trecena – Tonalamatl Balthazar

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Rabbit Trecena -Tonalamatl Borgia

The page for the Rabbit trecena from Codex Borgia, which I hadn’t seen thirty-five years ago, portrays its orthodox patrons in typically ornate style. Xiuhtecuhtli on the left is loaded down with divine regalia, some of it the same as in his image with the Snake trecena, and in similar coloration. The only truly emblematic piece is his square pectoral, apparently a heavily stylized war-butterfly motif inherited from the ancient Maya. I find his headdress curious in reflecting that of Ixtlilton in the preceding Eagle trecena. Maybe the artist enjoyed drawing those motifs.

On the right side, we have one of the more spectacular images of Xipe Totec illustrating his traditional red and white ornaments and staff. It’s in a much different style than his image as patron of the Dog trecena, sharing only the unique nose-clamp. In this Borgia portrait, he’s definitely the “flayed god,” like a priest in the skin of a sacrificial victim.

If I’d known about this panel, I might have avoided heresy by making Xipe Totec the patron of my Rabbit trecena, but I’d already used him for Dog and wouldn’t have wanted to repeat patrons anyway. The same argument holds for Xiuhtecuhtli already having appeared in Snake. In any case, while perhaps not as eye-catching as Chalchiuhtotolin in the Water trecena, Borgia’s two lords for the final Rabbit trecena are about as stylistically exquisite as its deities get.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Rabbit Trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

Here we see on the left the ominously named Itztapaltotec, Stone Slab Lord, himself, the sacrificial knife that grossed me out. This one looks like a guy in a flint knife (tecpatl) costume with flayed arms hanging from his own like an appropriately nagual hybrid of Xipe Totec. He holds an emblematic red and white staff, but I can’t fathom the conch shell in his other left hand.

On the right side sits Xiuhtecuhtli more or less enthroned, which is the first remarkable detail. Almost all the Yoal deities are either standing (like Itztapaltotec) or in what I call the “dancing” pose with bent knees. Only the Cihuateotl in the Flower trecena and Xochiquetzal in the Eagle trecena sit back on their feet, standard female posture, (especially in Codex Nutall where males sit cross-legged.) Adding to this iconographic weirdness, note that Xiuhtecuhtli’s right leg and foot are hidden by the left—an absolutely ideoplastic device.

Above and beyond that odd detail, the Lord of Fire is decked out in opulent finery. Check out that wild serpent/crocodile head by his ear, possibly a plug ornament. His extravagant array of Quetzal plumes splays more feathers than even Xochiquetzal in the Eagle trecena, and between him and Stone Slab they wear more than in any other Yoal patron panel. The artist may have overdone the plumage because in his tailpiece and bustle the feathers had to overlap—a definite problem for Aztec iconography. One of the plumes in the back-fan even droops behind another!

Passing by his war-butterfly pendant, we see in his lower right hand what looks surreally like a rattlesnake with an animal head. It’s in fact a ritual “shaman stick.” More usually it’s called a “deer stick,” though many don’t look at all like a deer’s head. Plain ones were often used for digging, but the rattles on this one were probably there to make magical noises.

In the original, the scepter in the god’s other right hand was terribly drawn and unrecognizable, and I substituted the finer Xiuhcoatl (fire-serpent) he holds in the Snake trecena. The strange position of his fingers—as though holding on to a ring—is an exact duplication of that detail in his Borgia icon. There I simply wondered about it, but seeing it again here, I begin to suspect that there’s some symbolic importance attached to it. I guess we’ll never know.

Moving on to the divine face, I confess to doing radical plastic surgery on the original which looked insanely like the cartoon character Homer Simpson. That simply wouldn’t do! Then I borrowed the face-painting pattern again from his image in Snake. The result was a respectable deity worthy of his portentous headdress (like that worn by him and Mictlantecuhtli in the upper row as lords of the night). According to Gordon Whittaker in “Deciphering Aztec Hieroglyphs,” that turquoise diadem with curved point in front is literally a hieroglyph for “Lord” or “ruler.” Whittaker adds that the Nahuatl word is teykw-tli pronounced in two syllables if you can wrap your tongue around that. Colloquially, that’s te-cuh-tli, as in Xiuhtecuhtli (fire/turquoise-lord).

As with Tonalamatl Borgia, Tonalamatl Yoal went all out on the patrons of the Rabbit trecena, lavishing them with divine detail. The tonalamatl presents many elegant figures, but in my opinion, only the panel for the Vulture trecena (Evening Star and Setting Sun) can compare to this ornate, many-plumed pair. The inspirations behind the Yoal trecena pages are superbly artistic visions of glorious mythological beings.

The twenty striking patron pairs in the Yoal tonalamatl encapsulate the traditional iconography of those Aztec deities. Having worked closely with the original codex images to re-create their conceptual inspirations, I can say that the later images in the series became progressively more awkward and crude, their construction often downright ramshackle. This suggests to me that other artists may have taken over some panels—or maybe the artist simply slacked off in his work—or equally probable, the artist got drunk or stoned.

In my careful estimation however, the Yoal artist(s)’s concept and vision of the trecena patrons were nevertheless sublime. Sadly, they just lacked the means, skill, medium, and (possibly) the reverence needed to manifest their deities magnificently. I’m thrilled to have turned those flawed visions into the Tonalamatl Yoal, a new treasure in the canon of Aztec art.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Rabbit Trecena

The only thing that identifies Xiuhtecuhtli in the Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel is his black face-paint. The generic circular pendant could belong to many deities. On the other hand, the figure on the left is clearly Itztapaltotec, a frighteningly personified sacrificial knife with a surreal face on his shoulder. The item at top center is a hearth-vessel with smoke, fire and possibly incense, but I won’t attempt to identify the other elements.

This patron panel and that for the Water trecena (with Chalchiuhtotolin) are the two most disappointing instances in the Tonalamatl Aubin. Most of the other panels are passingly ornate, while often awkward and distorted. In my humble opinion, this tonalamatl is the least impressive of the several we have seen. It was painted pre-Conquest in the neighboring state of Tlaxcala and as such may represent a crude, provincial document. Its value for scholarship is that it represents the shared themes and motifs across the “religious” territory of central Mexico.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Rabbit Trecena

The panel for this last trecena in Codex Borbonicus is artfully done, supplying the figure of Xiuhtecuhtli that I used as a model in the earlier Snake Trecena in my old tonalamatl. Oddly, I don’t believe I saw this decorative image of Itztapaltotec way back then. I was so taken my Xochipilli apostasy that I probably would’ve ignored the fancy fellow anyway. Though some of the surviving panels in Borbonicus present stunning figures (like Itztlacoliuhqui in the Lizard Trecena), this beautiful pairing of patrons has to be the most impactful composition of the lot.

The patrons’ emblematic paraphernalia is easily recognizable, as are many of the items in the neatly organized conglom. I’m intrigued by the bottom center item resembling a hill or mountain place-symbol with tooth-like appendages (which Whittaker has identified as hieroglyphs meaning “at”) and part of its vegetative detail in utter disarray. Most notable is the curved “deer-stick” hovering over Itztapaltotec’s flint knife, simpler than that in the Yoal panel, but scarcely more deer-like. This one is probably a common digging stick but might still be magical.

Combining these patron panels with a crowded matrix of delicately drawn days, 9 night-lords, and 13 day-lords with their totem-birds, the tonalamatl in Codex Borbonicus stands in my modest opinion as a consummate masterpiece of Aztec art and culture.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Rabbit Trecena

In Codex Vaticanus, the patron pair for the Rabbit Trecena again is well balanced, as in the other tonalamatls, to formally wrap up the last of the trecenas. In its characteristic rough caricature style, Vaticanus again closely follows the images and themes of Tonalamatl Borgia, Xipe Totec and Xiuhtecuhtli simply having switched sides. In its series of trecena panels, Vaticanus faithfully reflects the calendrical “dogma” in the more ornamental Borgia panels. The codices share certain other sections, but each also presents a lot of its own mythological material. Perhaps the calendrical orthodoxy can be explained by both codices having come from Puebla, possibly from the same priestly school (calmecac).

But the tonalamatl in Codex Vaticanus does more than simply restate the Borgia images. In particular, it created that uniquely surreal vision of Itzpapalotl for the House Trecena and produced its own exquisite versions of deities like Chalchiuhtotolin and Xolotl for the Water and Vulture trecenas. In addition, in its other sections, Vaticanus presents incomparably elegant artwork on deities like Tlaloc and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli. The codex is a veritable goldmine of mythological and ethnological details. One just has to get used to its stylistic strangeness, like the blue finger- and toe-nails.

Tonalamatl Borgia is my proudest achievement in this series of re-created Aztec art. Like the Vaticanus version of the trecenas, it’s set amongst several other ritual and religious sections of the codex, many of stupendous artistry. Though several other historical codices are also iconographically superlative, like Fejervary-Mayer and Laud, to my mind, Codex Borgia is the premiere artistic relic of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica.

Unfortunately, over five centuries the document has seriously deteriorated with whole sections of images worn away, the colors of its inks fading and failing, and some pages torn or even burned. Mostly, what we can see nowadays of Codex Borgia (and many other codices) is from the incredible facsimile editions of Joseph Florimond Loubat (1837-1921), an American bibliophile. He faithfully reproduced the Aztec documents in their exact conditions at the end of the nineteenth century, which meant that any earlier deterioration was also reproduced. In 1993 a full-color restoration of the Codex Borgia was published by Giselle Díaz & Alan Rodgers, restoring most dilapidated areas and repairing lost coloration in facsimile fashion.

My re-creations of Tonalamatl Borgia have played somewhat more freely with its colors. I’ve interpreted various shades of greys, browns, and golds in the Loubat facsimiles as deteriorated original blues and greens and in a few instances introduced colors not available to the Aztec artists (like the purples with Chalchiuhtotolin in the Water Trecena). My purpose was to present the deities in authentic but new, vibrant images untouched by the passing centuries.

A curious feature of the Tonalamatl Borgia is that some of its decorative patron panels seem to suggest an underlying narrative, in particular that for the Snake Trecena. Other panels include mysterious and beautiful symbolic items (though not as many as in Codex Borbonicus), and a number of the Borgia deities, like Chalchiuhtlicue in the Reed Trecena and Tlaloc in the Rain Trecena, are perfectly monumental. In summation, I believe that this Tonalamatl Borgia deserves a place of honor amongst the world’s very best religious art.

AFTERWORD
by Marguerite Paquin, PhD.

I would like to express my deepest thanks to Richard for his extremely valuable contributions to my Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog. This began in early December of 2019, when he allowed me to use his Tonalamatl Balthazar image for the Chikchan trecena as an illustration for the blog. (https://whitepuppress.ca/the-chikchan-lifeforce-trecena-dec-10-22-2019/) The evolution of imagery continued from there as he developed and refined his work.

After the inclusion of one full cycle of his Tonalamatl Balthazar, I began including his early renditions of the Codex Borgia in the blog. At first the images were somewhat sketchy (but valuable nonetheless) but over the years he kept refining them, and the full set is now gorgeously complete. I am blessed to have them available for my blog, as they allow my readers to see at a glance the nature of the energies that I discuss every 13 days.

When Richard began adding descriptions of his work (regarding the evolution of the images, and the detailing that was included) in his own site, this added yet another layer of interest. I am extremely appreciative of Richard’s talent, research, formidable attention to detail, and generosity in this regard, and have no doubt that the ancients who devised these images in the first place would be proud. Muchas gracias, Richard!

###

You can view all the calendar pages from the Balthazar, Borgia, and Yoal Tonalamatls
in the Tonalamatl gallery.

July 21, 2024

Aztec Calendar – Wind Trecena

The eighteenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Wind for its first numbered day, which is the 2^nd day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In Nahuatl, Wind is Ehecatl. It was known as Ik’ (Wind, Breath, Spirit) in Yucatec Maya, and Iq’ (Strong Wind) in Quiché Maya. The patron of the day Wind is Quetzalcoatl (See Icon #14), also patron of the Jaguar Trecena, and the eponymous wind deity Ehecatl (See Icon #5), the Breath of Life and spirit of the Tree of Life itself, is his principal nagual (manifestation).

PATRON DEITY RULING THE WIND TRECENA

Chantico, the Lady of the House (See Icon #4), is the goddess of fire (both in the home/hearth and in the earth), representing the feminine side of life (cooking, eating, and domesticity), the waters of birth, the fire of spirit, fertility and self-sacrifice. Her consort is variously seen as Xiuhtecuhtli, Lord of Fire and patron of the Snake Trecena, or as Tepeyollotl, Heart of the Mountain, the god of volcanoes (See Icon #17) and a patron of the Deer Trecena.

AUGURIES OF THE WIND TRECENA

Theme: Inspiration, Communication, Necromancy. Traditionally associated with the magical arts, this trecena was used by diviners to select propitious days on which to perform rituals. As Ehecatl represents the divine wind of the spirit, this energy is associated with life, breath, inspiration, and communication, but it can also conjure up storms and bring great change. Under the influence of Chantico, goddess of fire, the Wind trecena can often breathe new life into ideas, and inspire activities aligned with heart-felt communication and the provision of comfort. Use of the magical arts during this period could also help to bring nourishment for the spirit.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Ik’ trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE WIND TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with 1 Wind, it continues the trecena with: 2 House, 3 Lizard, 4 Snake, 5 Death, 6 Deer, 7 Rabbit, 8 Water, 9 Dog, 10 Monkey, 11 Grass, 12 Reed, and 13 Jaguar.

There are two special days in the Wind trecena:
One Wind (in Nahuatl Ce Ehecatl) -traditional day for offerings to be made to Quetzalcoatl. The day appropriately introduces a trecena devoted to sorcery and necromancy.

Nine Dog (in Nahuatl Chicnahui Itzcuintli) – the festival day of magicians, perhaps because the patron of the number Nine was the great Quetzalcoatl himself, and Dog (Xolotl) was a divine magician. Significantly, it is also the birth-day-name of Chantico, the trecena’s patron.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

As described in my earlier blog The Aztec Calendar – My Obsession, some thirty years ago—on the basis of very limited ethnographic information and iconographic models —I presumed to create my own version of a Tonalamatl, publishing it in 1993 as Celebrate Native America!

At the time, I didn’t know about Chantico’s importance as a volcano goddess, and my version of her is a quintessentially Codex Nuttall matron tending a stylized hearth-fire. I acknowledged her domestic role by including the weaving spindle—a detail far more appropriate for the goddess Tlazolteotl. The golden bird in her headdress is probably completely out of place, but her jaguar-pelt throne is perfectly appropriate for a goddess. In my Icon #4, I posed Chantico in an ornamental house (temple), which must have been aesthetically successful because that was the one icon banner stolen from the last venue of my YE GODS! show.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Wind Trecena -Tonalamatl Borgia

The Wind Trecena page in Codex Borgia shows Chantico, sometimes called the Lady of Jewels (Lady of Wealth) as ornately adorned with what may be numerous pearls, but there is little else to identify her. Her nose ornament is a little too generic to serve that purpose, and the enigmatic item (inverted pot?) under her throne doesn’t help either.

More to the point, the three ornate symbols in the center of the panel are glyphs illustrating Chantico’s realms of power. At the top center is a burning temple, metaphorical for fire in the earth (volcano), and in the center is the fire in a hearth/container, both with orangish and gray curlicues of flame and smoke. The large conch at bottom center is probably a reverent gesture or reference to Quetzalcoatl on his special day One Wind.

Much more puzzling than the upside-down pot is the emphatic image on the right side of the panel: an inverted person seemingly falling across a mat or piece of fabric, most definitely not dead—which falling headfirst usually signified—and holding bouquets of vegetation and brightly flowering penitential thorns. Not much to go on here for what this apparently important third of the patron panel might mean. The commentary by Bruce Byland in the Diaz & Rodgers restoration of Codex Borgia doesn’t devote even one syllable to this intriguing detail.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Wind Trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

As usual, in its images of deities for the Wind Trecena, Codex Telleriano-Remensis (and consequently Codex Rios) didn’t skimp on displaying emblems, symbols, and traditional regalia, though the codex-artists didn’t always agree on details. The figures recreated here are based mostly on T/R images with occasional minutiae from Rios. Both figures, of course, had to undergo radical orthopedic surgery for iconographic anatomical awkwardness.

In any case, the paired images make a striking combination. Let’s come back later to the guy on the right and scope out the divine Chantico on the left. Would you look at that headdress! A dark-feathered and be-sea-shelled crest of quetzal plumes pours forth streams of fire and water, creating an elegant atl-tlachinolli (water-fire) glyph—as discussed in the Snake Trecena—usually a symbol of war, but here I think it represents the waters of birth and fire of spirit, attributes of the goddess. Her facial markings and matching ear- and nose-pieces are unusual, but the most disturbing (and unique) detail is her set of Tlaloc-like fangs. How does one fit that sinister motif into Chantico’s official hagiography?

Now we can check out the guy on the right, a figure most unusually in a decorative frame. The little day-sign attached to the back of his head is One Reed—which was used in the Snake Trecena to identify Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, a nagual of Quetzalcoatl. However, this seems to be Quetzalcoatl himself, probably in honor of his One Wind Festival. Strong evidence is the circular pendant, serpent accessories, black body, and tri-colored face. In fact, Quetzalcoatl was known as One Reed in central Mexico from the ancient Toltec tradition (and in more southerly areas with even older Maya traditions as Nine Wind).

The notations on the T/R and Rios pages (in Spanish and Italian) clearly name the guy Quetzalcoatl but only comment on the frame as his casa de oro. But there’s no way the little falling guy in Borgia can be construed as the great god Quetzalcoatl nor can that decorative mat compare to this deity’s golden house. Whatever Borgia meant by that strange scene may have been used by the T/R artist as an excuse to celebrate Quetzalcoatl as a star of the trecena.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Wind trecena

The patron panel in Tonalamatl Aubin merely complicates the situation, presenting an upright little guy with bouquets and without any emblems of Quetzalcoatl—though now in a casa de oro. That motif may bode a deeper significance than even Borgia’s fancy mat. Thinking at first that Yoal’s One Reed glyph might in fact identify Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, I wondered if maybe the casa de oro could represent the House of the Dawn. That motif also has a connection to Quetzalcoatl as the planet Venus, but I know of no connection between Chantico and dawn. The matter of the little guy remains mysterious.

The hearth fire at the top center is of course symbolic of Chantico, whose plumed headdress is similar to that worn by both figures in the Yoal panel. Her atl-tlachinolli glyph and skull-bustle are repeated here, but the conch over her head seems damaged. The big serpent under her throne must symbolize emphatic sexuality, but I can’t explain the pile of something or other pierced by penitential thorns. The central offering bowl seems rather pitiful, as do the grotesque hands and feet on both figures. Overall, this patron panel isn’t particularly inspiring.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Wind trecena

On the other hand, the patron panel from Codex Borbonicus is enchantingly ornate. It presents another casa de oro on the left with a common mortal who carries a standard bouquet/weapon and incense bag but again wears the Yoal-style plumed headdress. He does nothing to clarify the mystery. On the right, Chantico sports great bunches of quetzal plumes, another dramatic atl-tlachinolli glyph, and under her throne familiar plumed tassels with seashells. Her unusual sitting posture (hovering above instead of in front of the throne) may be intended to add to her ethereal/divine presence. That nose-clamp looks painful.

The scattered conglom of ritual items raises several questions. Starting in the upper left, what’s the significance of the day-sign One Crocodile (first day of the tonalpohualli)? Or of the standard-design rock/stone. No idea… Top center may be a glyphic hearth-fire. On the lower left seems to be an incense burner, but the leafy swatches beside it are inscrutable. The mounded item just above may be a metaphor for fire in the earth (volcano) and could relate to Aubin’s pile of something or other. But most iconic is the little frilled circle in the center with a star or divine eye in the middle. A traditional symbol of magic or sorcery, it’s the only reference in these patron panels to this trecena’s theme of necromancy.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Wind trecena

The patron panel from Codex Vaticanus again repeats the inventory of motifs from Borgia, including burning temple, hearth-fire, and conch. But it deepens the mystery of what the little guy represents. Here, he’s a blue figure (possibly a corpse?) in what looks like a box rather than on a mat or in a casa de oro. Still no answers… Apart from her fancy skirt, cape, and body-tattoos, Chantico is pretty plain. Her sitting with feet forward is most unusual, and the confusion of her arms detracts from any divine magnificence.

My ancient intuition about Chantico was apparently right on making her a normal, stylish woman. Appropriately, some patron panels give her dramatic emblems I didn’t know about like plumed headdress, fire-water glyph, and power symbols of hearth-fires and volcanoes. While her Borgia portrait is glamorous, her image in Yoal is more ornamental than most calendrical deities in that tonalamatl. Her pairing with the cameo of Quetzalcoatl makes one of the more exquisite Yoal panels, but we can’t take that to mean that he’s also a patron of the trecena. This guy One Reed seems more like a Master of Ceremonies for the magicians’ fiesta week. Maybe the strange little guys in the other tonalamatls are sorcerer-performers.

###

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

May 13, 2024

Aztec Calendar – Water Trecena

The seventeenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Water for its first numbered day, which is coincidentally the 9^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In Nahuatl, Water is Atl. It was known as Muluk (Water) in Yucatec Maya and Toj (Rain or “Thunderpain”) in Quiché Maya.

The Aztecs saw the day Water, typically shown as a container spilling water, as connected with the flow/passage through life and time as well as purification and the accumulation of resources and potentials. It’s associated anatomically with the back of the head/hair. The divine patron of the day is Xiuhtecuhtli, the Lord of Fire/Turquoise, who’s a patron of the Snake trecena.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE WATER TRECENA

Chalchiuhtotolin (see Icon #3), the Jade (or Jeweled) Turkey, is another nagual (manifestation) of Tezcatlipoca (see Lizard trecena). As the magnificent patron of his Jaguar Warriors of the Night and of military power and glory, it cleanses them of contamination, absolves them of guilt, and overcomes their fates. Appropriately it’s the patron of the day Flint, the sacrificial knife.

Though symbolic of sustenance and abundance, Chalchiuhtotolin is also associated with disease and pestilence, a creature of death and decay, regeneration and transformation. Chalchiuhtotolin is also linked to the earth’s fertility, agricultural cycles, and the natural order of life and death. Appeasing Chalchiuhtotolin was believed to ensure a smooth transition for the deceased into the afterlife and promote fertility and abundance in the earthly realm.

AUGURIES OF THE WATER TRECENA

Trecena theme: Generative Vitality, Purification. This life-giving time frame has a generative “firewater” aspect to its energy, representative of the original creation forces that sparked life itself. There is a strong sense of abundance associated with these forces, but these energies can also be “electrical” in the sense that they can “spark” important events, often associated with stimulation and cleansing. Like water itself, this period holds the potential to create pathways that can shape or change the world. This trecena has also been associated with omens.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Muluk trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE WATER TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with 1 Water, it continues the trecena with: 2 Dog, 3 Monkey, 4 Grass, 5 Reed, 6 Jaguar, 7 Eagle, 8 Vulture, 9 Earthquake, 10 Flint, 11 Rain, 12 Flower, and 13 Crocodile.

There’s one special day in the Water trecena:

One Water (in Nahuatl Ce Atl) –the day-name of Chalchiuhtlicue, the Jade Skirt, the patron of the Reed trecena. In the Florentine Codex, it’s noted as a feast day for those involved in the water industries, but I can only speculate what those were.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

Yet again, I knew nothing about traditional images of the Jade Turkey and simply played with a Nuttall-style guy in a turkey-suit, the dominant green color reflecting the “jade.” Only many years later did I discover true details of this deity’s mythology—and the unusual type of turkey it references. The following patron panels will explain a lot of little-known turkey-trivia.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Water trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

Besides the “Jade Turkey,” Chalchiuhtotolin is also called the “Jeweled Turkey”—referring to Meleagris ocellata, an endangered species native to Yucatan, Belize, and Guatemala and named for “eyes” on its imposing fan of tail feathers. With stunning blue-to-purple-to-green plumage, this rara avis is a distant cry from the standard “Thanksgiving” turkey (Meleagris gallopavo).

Surely known personally to the Maya but likely only mythically in Mexico, this rare bird as patron of the Water trecena shows its ancient heritage. The peoples of Mexico found significant sustenance and abundance in its drabber but larger cousin, the Wild Turkey, ancestor of our even bigger domestic turkey. But they “idolized” a mythical jeweled fowl that could be called the “Turquoise Turkey” (Xiuhtotolin). Coincidentally and appropriately, that could also mean “Fire Turkey.” Since the bodies of ocellata were many shades of iridescent emerald-green, simply “Jade Turkey” is its best label.

The color palettes of codex artists included very few shades of blue which differed over time and area. The Maya had a famous blue of unknown source, and the Mexicans later achieved a generous blue like in Codex Borbonicus. In Codex Borgia, most intended blues have degraded into shades of grey (as have any hues of green into brownish-golds). Codex Laud and Codex Fejervary-Mayer use a dark greenish or slate tone for blues and/or greens, with other colors fairly vivid. In Vaticanus b (predominantly cochineal red and brownish gold), they managed some subdued blues and greens almost like highlights. But a true turquoise was way out of an artist’s reach, not to mention any shade of purple.

That made it essentially impossible to depict Chalchiuhtotolin in all its iridescence. The Jade Turkey mostly appears in codices with a red head and brownish feathers, like their common farmyard gobblers. But in Codex Borgia, the mythical bird has a stylized ocellated fantail (now become blacks and greys) and brownish-gold medallions for the glowing green on its breast.

I chose to color our divine bird naturalistically—i.e., just about as supernaturally as it gets, that turquoise head and purplish tail. I wonder about that suspicious ear on the back of its head. Turkeys don’t have ears like mammals. And what’s that big tassel-thing on its breast? Well, recently I learned about turkeys’ beards. When toms (and some hens) get on in years, they can grow a long spike of feathers straight out from their breasts. That ornament and a many-eyed fan makes a formidable fowl of military majesty, a great patron for the Jaguar Warriors of the Night.

Chalchiuhtotolin seriously dominates this patron panel, especially with all that stuff the deity is evidently exhaling. The upper curlicues we now know are grey smoke and orangish fire, which makes sense for a “Fire Turkey,” a fire-breathing warrior-bird, but the curly thing caught in the disembodied claw sure doesn’t. Hanging right there in the center of the panel, it must be primally important, maybe a hieroglyphic message or utterance by the deity. Or it may be simply an abstraction for the wide range of calls, cackles, and gobbles that turkeys make.

Meanwhile, the surreal item on the right invites more interpretation. No doubt, it involves two spotted serpent tails encircling a body of water. However, the snakes’ heads lift up between knobbed sides like spouts of water (with eyes and mouths!) and top off with big flowers. The motif of a snake containing a volume of water is also seen in ancient Maya iconography—and this is after all, the Water trecena. Gathering and containing water, the essence of accumulation, provides the Jade Turkey’s abundance. So, here there be water-serpents.

Which raises a neat linguistic point: At a recent lecture, I learned that in Aztec iconography many of the images are actually hieroglyphs, pictorially and/or phonetically significant. For instance, a pot or jug with water splashing out of it can be read as a word in Nahuatl. The first syllable of their word for pot/jug/jar is co-,and their word for ‘water’ is atl. So, co-atl spells ‘snake.’ This item is in fact a decorative and emphatic hieroglyph for ‘water-serpent.’

This page for the Water trecena I consider perhaps the most glorious in the Tonalamatl Borgia, not only for its intended colors but for its surrealism. Even without the appended material and fancy water-serpent glyph, this image of Chalchiuhtotolin is inarguably the apotheosis of the turkey. (Worshipping it is a whole lot kinder—and respectful—than cooking it for dinner.)

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar –Water trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

This series of compiled trecena pages that I call Tonalamatl Yoal opts for a far less naturalistic image of an ocellata with the brown feathers and red head of the common gallopavo. However, there’s no clear reason for its yellow feet or the epaulets on its wings. The “jeweled” aspect of divine Chalchiuhtotolin is shown by the jade pendants on its plumage and probably the turquoise collar, but I can’t explain the apron of quetzal plumes that almost hides its jaguar-pelt “pants.” Those may indicate its nagual connection to Tezcatlipoca as does the variant smoking mirror in its headdress—a logical source of the flame and smoke seen before as the breath of the Borgia bird. Apart from the shape of the head, this heavily stylized portrayal of the deity doesn’t look much like a turkey, especially that tail, but it’s certainly an elegant fowl.

Instead of any water-serpent reference, on the right side is another figure of a human worshipper performing a ritual blood sacrifice like the guy in the Jaguar trecena. That one (with the same bound hairdo but no headdress) pierces his tongue with a pointed stick. This one jabs himself in the ear with a sharpened flowering shinbone—oddly emblematic of Quetzalcoatl, as are the two ornamental conch shells. The devout fellow also offers the deity a fancy incense bag.

Though it shares the stage here with a worshipper, Chalchiuhtotolin is clearly the sole patron of this Water trecena. As before with the tongue-piercer with Quetzalcoatl in the Jaguar trecena, this ear-stabber may merely indicate the preferred method of blood-sacrifice to the Jade Turkey. I haven’t studied the matter, but I suspect the Aztecs had prescribed rituals of phlebotomy for specific deities, including slicing other body-parts, flagellation, flaying, and eye-poking (like in the Flower trecena). It was obviously a great culture for masochists.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Water trecena

It’s no surprise that the turkey in the Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel can scarcely be called elegant. Looking more like a limp rubber chicken, it’s nevertheless supposed to be the divine Chalchiuhtotolin as shown by a half-hearted smoking mirror in its headdress. While the little guy pretends to stab his ear, three awkward conch shells seem to relate to familiar water-serpent symbols. Apparently, the Aubin artist(s) held Chalchiuhtotolin in only minimal awe.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Water trecena

The Jade Turkey in the Codex Borbonicus patron panel, however, is rather awesome with an ornate smoking mirror and Tezcatlipoca’s beribboned circular pendant. Its anthropomorphic nature (a guy in a turkey suit) nicely justifies my own even more awesome interpretation in Tonalamatl Balthazar. In the crowd of ritual paraphernalia, I wonder about that central green pulque pot; is he drinking from it or vomiting into it? The little guy on the right of it with the colorful snake is again stabbing an ear and carrying an incense bag and a conch shell. The co-atl glyph in the lower right corner must refer to both the Water trecena and water-serpent, and fire and smoke issue from a burning temple. The cluster of symbols (including a familiar scorpion) might be elements of some hieroglyphic sentence.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Water trecena

In Codex Vaticanus, the Jade Turkey distinctly reflects the Borgia image, some blue in the fantail with stylized “eyes, a geometrically abstracted wing, and a small beard on its breast. One gets the feeling that the artist probably intended to paint the white spaces in ocellata colors but didn’t get around to it. (I’m tempted to finish the job but have other fish to fry right now.)

The cluster of motifs above its head also reflects the Borgia image: plumes of smoke and fire and stylized water-serpent heads (without faces) capped with flowers. In this instance, the red “walls” of the waterspouts are evidently penitential thorns, explaining the knobbed structures in Borgia. Most interesting is the curly exhalation with stars attached grasped again in a disembodied claw; it suggests darkness or night, possibly explaining the enigmatic brown Borgia detail. The deity was sometimes called the “Precious Night Turkey”—maybe since Tezcatlipoca was the god of the night or for its patronage of the Jaguar Warriors of the Night.

This Vaticanus Chalchiuhtotolin is exceptional, both in stylized detail and in being the sole image in the patron panel. Displaying no specific emblem of Tezcatlipoca, this Jade Turkey seems (like the Borgia bird) to proclaim its independent divinity.

I’m impressed by the virtuosity of the Vaticanus artist(s) in stylizing certain animals like the dog (discussed in the previous Vulture trecena) and this Jade Turkey. Elsewhere in the codex they have twice drawn turkeys in the context of their patronage of the day Flint, on pp. 29 and 93:

From different sections of the codex but in similar poses (and both sporting impressive beards), these two gobblers may well have been drawn by different artists in slightly different personal styles. The one on the left is clearly a common variety tom, but apart from the necessarily red head, the one on the right looks to be an authentic ocellata with the eyes on its fantail and more intricate plumage. Perhaps the magnificent trecena patron image was created by yet a third artist, someone more fluent in religious symbolism.

###

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

March 22, 2024

Aztec Calendar – Vulture Trecena

The sixteenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Vulture for its first numbered day, which is coincidentally the 16^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In Nahuatl, Vulture is Cozcacuauhtli. However, for the Maya, the day apparently had only a peripheral association with the vulture and was known as Kib’ (Wax or Candle) in Yucatec and Ajmac (Owl or “sinner”) in Quiché with different significance. Per Dr. Paquin’s fine book (cited below), the Maya saw Kib’ as connected with the four Bacabs (directions or sky-bearers) and associated it with incense, the “soul force” of the universe, and notably bees.

On the other hand, the Aztec saw the day Vulture connected with the spiritual realm, restoring order and balance, and prosperity. Folks born on a Vulture day would be vigorous, prudent, wise, and good teachers and advisors. Those born on One Vulture would be happy, wealthy, admired, and lucky in business. Anatomically, the day was connected with the right ear.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE VULTURE TRECENA

The patron of the trecena is Xolotl, the Evening Star, god of twins, often called the “Evil Twin” of Quetzalcoatl (by the goddess Chimalma, while other lore has them borne by Ometeotl, the Creative Pair). Still other lore says Xolotl and Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (Morning Star) are the real twins, though the Morning Star is the more dangerous/evil, and what’s more they’re both naguals of Quetzalcoatl (Venus). Also, reflecting the Maya Hero Twins, Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca are supposedly the famous twins, which further obfuscates divine family trees.

Usually, twins were seen as monstrosities, one of the two often killed at birth, and so Xolotl is called the deity of monstrosities. Adding to his “evil” reputation, he’s considered the god of malice and treachery, representing the bestial side of people, the opposite of intellect.

Recalling the European three-headed dog Cerberus in Hades and the jackal/dog Anubis in ancient Egypt’s Duat, Xolotl is most often depicted as a dog—who serves as psychopomp of souls in Mictlan. In the same way, when the Cihuateteo have brought the sun to its setting, the dog-god escorts Tonatiuh on his nightly journey through the Underworld. The setting sun-god is called Tlalchi-Tonatiuh, Sun close to (or under) the Earth, and is occasionally thought of as an ephemeral “patron” of the Vulture trecena.

AUGURIES OF THE VULTURE TRECENA

Trecena theme: Mischief, Duality, Transformation. With the patron deities of this trecena both representing of the close proximity of the sun to the earth, it is not unusual to see some tendency towards “fire in the earth” during this period. These energies seem to underscore the dualistic nature of this trecena, metaphorically suggestive of the sun’s journey through the underworld, and its struggle towards rebirth. This can precipitate havoc, often of an intense or fiery nature, often involving some form of duality. However, the ultimate purpose is often transmutation, a push towards the birth of something new, as suggested by the initiating energy of Kib’, the Vulture energy that is ultimately oriented towards a restoration of order.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Kib’ trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE VULTURE TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 16^th day of the veintena, 1 Vulture, it continues: 2 Earthquake, 3 Flint, 4 Rain, 5 Flower, 6 Crocodile, 7 Wind, 8 House, 9 Lizard, 10 Snake, 11 Death, 12 Deer, and 13 Rabbit.

There are two special days in the Vulture trecena:

Four Rain (in Nahuatl Nahui Quiahuitl) – Featured on the Stone of the Suns, this is the day-name of the idyllic Third Sun/Era ruled by the Storm God Tlaloc. However, when Tezcatlipoca abducted his wife Xochiquetzal, the angry deity destroyed the world in a rain of fire (probably a volcano). Its people became butterflies, dogs, or birds—some say turkeys.

Five Flower (in Nahuatl Macuil Xochitl) is patron of games (particularly patolli) and gambling, music and singing, who brings and cures hemorrhoids and venereal diseases. He’s one of the five Ahuiateteo (Gods of pleasure and excess thereof). So far we’ve seen Five Lizard, Five Vulture, and Five Rabbit, and we’ll meet Five Grass in the last trecena, Rabbit. They are sometimes also called the Macuiltonaleque (Lords of Number 5) who escort the sun (Tonatiuh) across the day-sky and deliver him to the five Cihuateteo to prepare him for sunset, whereupon Xolotl takes him through the Underworld night.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

In those dark ages of the early 90s, my information on most Aztec deities was severely limited. I’d read about Xolotl being the Evening Star and god of monstrosities but had no clue about his canine or solar characteristics. Reacting solely to a comment about his “reversed hands and feet” (but unaware that iconographically a great many divine hands and feet got reversed), I once again gathered regalia and motifs from Codex Nuttall, without realizing its appropriateness made up a wicked kind of Tlaloc mask, and to ice the cake, gave my Xolotl a hunched back. Though terribly inaccurate in detail, the result was sufficiently monstrous for its purpose. In fact, you’ll see shortly that it’s rather nicer than a disturbing authentic image of Xolotl Deformed.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Vulture trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

The Vulture trecena panel in Codex Borgia is a great piece of positive PR for Xolotl showing an almost cuddly puppy-dog (major fangs and jaguar claws notwithstanding). It avoids implying any sinister aspect, except perhaps the bloody teardrop. Meanwhile, his nagual-connection to Quetzalcoatl is stressed by that god’s emblematic conch-shell pendant (wind-jewel).

Xolotl is obviously the sole patron in this panel, the other items being simply ritual details. The Earthquake day-sign by his foot indicates his patronage of that day, and the four dots specify the day-name of the current Fifth Sun. The deer-leg in the bowl above is a frequent offering to deities, but I can’t even guess what the bag of plumes might mean. The chopped-up snake we now know as a common symbol of sacrifice. Overall, the panel makes a pretty poster.

However, Codex Borgia doesn’t always issue pretty propaganda for Xolotl. Other pages may well have been drawn by different artists—like the panel depicting Xolotl as patron of the day Earthquake. Rather than as a dog, it shows him as a deformed monstrosity:

Here the bloody teardrop has become a drooping eyeball which a dubious legend ascribes to his “crying his eyes out” when at the creation of the Fifth Sun, Ehecatl supposedly massacred various gods. I frankly can’t accept that wild story, nor the claim that Xolotl was also murdered by the Wind God and turned into an axolotl (a “water-dog” salamander). After all, who would now lead Tonatiuh through the Underworld at night (or souls through Mictlan)?

There’s a lot of confused lore about Xolotl, often cited by Spanish priests/ethnographers for nefarious reasons, including a claim that he helped Quetzalcoatl bring the bones of people from the Fourth Sun up from Mictlan to create the people of the Fifth Sun. In much more likely fact, it’s actually Ehecatl who made that arrangement with Mictlancihuatl, the Lady of Mictlan. As well, being the Breath of Life, Ehecatl is an extremely unlikely mass murderer. Conversely, Spanish writers tried to whitewash Quetzalcoatl as being opposed to human sacrifice—in order to use him in their catechism as a Christ-figure.

By the way, the drooping eyeball might symbolize an Underworld connection. It’s emblematic of the Cihuateteo and shown in Borgia Plate 42 on several figures being “generated” by a death-deity. The hand across Xolotl’s lower face is essentially an emblem of the Ahuiateteo, and these two details may intend his connection with those other escorts of Tonatiuh.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar –Vulture trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

Talk about pretty posters! I think this Tonalamatl Yoal patron panel takes the cake, so to speak. In Yoal’s colorful, fancy style, a super-ornate Xolotl (nothing at all sinister here) is paired with an equally ornate Tlalchi-Tonatiuh as the sun sinking into the gaping maw of Tlaltecuhtli, Lord of the Earth. It’s a stunning image of the Evening Star at the ephemeral moment of sunset, epitomizing the myth of Xolotl as the sun’s companion through the night.

In this regard, let me opine that the artist(s) of Tonalamatl Yoal had splendid artistic concepts for their trecena patron pairs—which were unfortunately isolated on separate pages—but frankly they lacked the technical expertise to fully achieve those concepts. That’s why I felt justified in “re-creating” their images—to make them more of what the original artist(s) must have had in mind. Their original sketchy, careless images simply couldn’t convey the art of their vision.

I hesitate to comment more on this panel but must. You will note that in Yoal’s fashion, the figure of Xolotl is heavily loaded with divine regalia, naturally including several items associated with Quetzalcoatl. Curious is the inclusion in his headdress of a bunch of unspun cotton and a spindle of spun thread, generally emblems of the goddess Tlazolteotl. But even more curious is the fact that Xolotl’s canine head looks very like a Pekinese, another cuddly puppy.

This gorgeous image of Tlalchi-Tonatiuh wears a Tlaloc-like mask with a goggle-eye but remarkably has no traditional fangs. Though Codex Rios annotated this figure (in Italian) as “Tlachitonalie,” I didn’t know what that meant, and several years ago I took this to be the God of Rain Quiahuitl to use for my Icon #15. Now I understand that it’s in fact the setting sun, and the rain-mask is probably connected with the sun’s watery route through Mictlan (where nine rivers must be crossed). Live and learn. However, I’ve yet to learn what that strange item is protruding from his mouth with all the shell ornaments. No clue…

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Vulture trecena

Forget cuddly puppies in the Tonalamatl Aubin panel. Here Xolotl is so clumsily (one might say monstrously) drawn that he scarcely even resembles a dog. At least the three crosses on his regalia, the wind-jewel pendant, and the bow in his headdress connect him to Quetzalcoatl. Meanwhile, the little Tlalchi-Tonatiuh on the left with a full Tlaloc face wears a “night-sun” symbol and sinks into the merely schematic mouth of Tlaltecuhtli. The unusual border of flowing water may well be one of the rivers of Mictlan.

So far, so un-impressive. However, I’m struck by the free-floating items. The little bundle of sticks with a carrying strap is rather innocuous and uninteresting, but the chili pepper is quite emphatic. This is the first time I’ve seen one depicted in the codices, and other culinary ingredients are usually shown all together in a bowl or pot. This chili probably has some ritual significance. Maybe the inherent penance of eating something so hot?

This panel is perhaps the most disappointing in the whole troubling Aubin series. But that’s just me with my modern refined aesthetic. This Tonalamatl was painted in the state of Tlaxcala, and maybe the Tlaxcalans back then found it hugely beautiful. Eye of the beholder and all that…

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Vulture trecena

The sunset theme is repeated in Codex Borbonicus, also with a Mictlan-river border, which like in Aubin is unique in its series of trecena patron panels. This Tlalchi-Tonatiuh with a bestial head and unknown something protruding from its mouth resembles Tlaloc or Quiahuitl only in the goggle eye. An exquisite “night-sun” symbol replaces its body as it sinks into the maw of an ornate Tlaltecuhtli. Paired with an ornamented Xolotl as a cute dog (Chihuahua?), this panel is a great metaphorical sunset with Evening Star, but I feel the Yoal panel outshines it vastly.

The conglom of ritual items is familiar: a deer-leg offering (as in Borgia and Aubin) and a wrapped bundle of sticks (as in Aubin). Occurring twice now, the latter must surely mean something divinatory. I’m amused by the impertinent snake in the incense bag—and struck by another penitential chili pepper! This intricate panel is perhaps the clearest example of iconographic connections between Tonalamatl Aubin and Codex Borbonicus.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Vulture trecena

As often noted before, iconographic connections between Codex Borgia and Codex Vaticanus are obvious in the Vulture trecena panel, portraying basically the same motifs in their individual styles. This Vaticanus Xolotl isn’t quite as cuddly as the Borgia version, but it’s elegantly adorned (with another emblematic wind-jewel). Its body being wrapped in a corpse bundle might lead one to think the Vaticanus artist simply got hooked on this simplistic device (after four other panels with the motif), but I believe it was used here with reason. Like in Borgia, there’s no reference to Tlalchi-Tonatiuh, and the corpse bundle establishes Xolotl’s important connection to the Underworld. I’ve taken the liberty of seriously restoring and rectifying this panel because it’s such a striking image of a mythical dog—worthy of a tattoo.

I’m still staggered by the jewel-like Yoal sunset scene with Xolotl as the Evening Star, but after this review of the Vulture trecena patron panels, I can’t help but conclude that the dog-god has been mythologically maligned. I’ve seen nothing to indicate malice, treachery, or even mischief. Though he might represent the animal and anti-intellectual aspects of nature, I expect that his monstrous reputation rests in that one Borgia image as patron of the day Earthquake. In the parallel day-panel in Vaticanus, he’s an almost naturalistic, enthusiastic hound:

###

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

February 10, 2024

Aztec Calendar – House Trecena

The fifteenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called House for its first numbered day, which is the 3^rd day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In Nahuatl, House is Calli, and it’s known as Ak’b’al in Yucatec Maya and Ak’ab’al in Quiché.

My early research told me that for the Aztecs, the day House represents nobility and intelligence. Its sign is a stylized house (calli) or temple (teocalli); educational centers were a telpochcalli, and priests were trained in the calmecac. My great Maya advisor, Dr. Paquin, tells me that they considered Ak’b’al to represent a sanctuary or place of retreat, a place for contemplation, study, and creative exploration. She adds that the day also represents the night and darkness, i.e., the magical nocturnal realm. How much of that made it into Aztec symbology, one wonders, but they associated the day House anatomically with the right eye. The patron of the day is the Heart of the Mountain, Tepeyollotl (See Icon #17), god of caves (speaking of sanctuary/retreat), who appeared in the Deer trecena as Jaguar of the Night, another rather appropriate detail.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE HOUSE TRECENA

The ruler of the House trecena is the frankly frightening Itzpapalotl (the Obsidian Butterfly), the ancestral goddess of the stars (Milky Way), lady of mystery and death—but perversely, also of beauty and fertility. (See Icon #8.) Patron of the day Cozcacuauhtli (Vulture), she’s a fearsome warrior who rules over the paradise of Tamoanchan for victims of infant mortality. She may be the mother of Mixcoatl, the Cloud Serpent, and is a patron of the dire sisterhood of Cihuateteo (Divine Women), warrior spirits of women who die in childbirth. She’s patron and leader of the Tzitzimime, star demons that come down and devour people during solar eclipses. Like them, Itzpapalotl can be depicted with a skull-face and butterfly or eagle wings, but she can also be a beautiful woman. Below, we’ll see her in all those aspects—and as a surreal nightmare!

AUGURIES OF HOUSE TRECENA

The theme of the House trecena is Darkness, Mystery, Trauma, and Challenge. Overseen by a deity who appears to represent the struggles of the soul as it strives to overcome the traumas and tribulations of life, this trecena often places emphasis on events and issues that have significant moral and ethical implications for humanity. Personal sacrifices and “warrior” instincts may be needed to navigate through the challenges of the earthly realm. This is a good period for reflection, assessment, and soul-searching in order to find new ways to move through the darkness and into the light.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Ak’b’al trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE HOUSE TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 3^rd day of the current veintena, 1 House, it continues: 2 Lizard, 3 Snake, 4 Death, 5 Deer, 6 Rabbit, 7 Water, 8 Dog, 9 Monkey, 10 Grass, 11 Reed, 12 Jaguar, and 13 Eagle.

There’s one special day in the House trecena:

One House (in Nahuatl Ce Calli)—Day-name of one of the five main Cihuateteo (Divine Women), spirits of women who die in childbirth. Except for One Eagle (Ce Cuauhtli), we’ve seen all the others in their respective trecenas: One Deer (Ce Mazatl), One Monkey (Ce Ozomatli), and One Rain (Ce Quiahuitl). The picture below shows a Cihuateotl, One Deer, seen in two codices with clearly very orthodox iconography. They mainly differ in which way the snakes hang from their arms and the patterns on their skirts. The bloody teardrops are emblematic of the Cihuateteo as spirits of the Underworld (Mictlan).

A Cihuateotl: Codex Borgia (l.), Codex Vaticanus (r.)

Somewhere I read that One House may be the day-name of Itzpapalotl herself, so that could in truth be a cameo appearance of the goddess in the Flower trecena as a seductive woman. Meanwhile, Tlazolteotl is sometimes called a Cihuateotl, but I’d bet as the celebrity mother-goddess, she’s probably another patron of the five Divine Women.

Lore has it that especially on their name-day nights, the Cihuateteo lurk at crossroads to seduce and murder men or to capture young children—so they can become mothers. Although honored as fallen warriors, they’re sometimes shown with skeletal faces and clawed feet and hands, goddesses of the twilight. Their supernatural chore is to conduct the sun into the underworld at the end of the day—then go out and haunt the crossroads like bogey-mamas.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

After trying my best to be authentic in portraying the first fourteen trecena patrons, I indulged in a bit of imagination in this representation of Itzpapalotl, modelled on the Codex Borbonicus image (See below). However, fascinated by her “butterfly” persona, I replaced her Borbonicus bird-wings with those of a tropical butterfly called Armandia Lidderdalei. Please forgive my artistic license. Meanwhile, I cued to her claws in the Borbonicus panel (for which she’s called “the Clawed Butterfly”), though confusing jaguar claws and eagle talons. Noting a reference to her “skeletal face,” I gave her one not unlike that in the following Borgia image.

The result is probably the most gruesomely gorgeous deity I’ve ever drawn. By the way, that’s a sacrificial knife she holds in her left hand/claw. I adapted this image for my coloring-book series Ye Gods! Icons of Aztec Deities (2017-2020), and it was the big hit of the show. In fact, an arts-for-youth group used the black-and-white image as a “cartoon” for their huge rainbow-winged mural of the goddess that can still be seen from the highway. I greatly appreciate the anonymous recognition and welcome anyone’s use of my artwork however they like.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – House trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

Compared to my Itzpapalotl, this one in Tonalamatl Borgia is merely pretty ghastly, just enough for the leader of the Star Demons (Tzitzimime, singular Tzitzimitl). In the following image I drew from the Post-Conquest Codex Tudela, they look fairly grisly, like a Mesoamerican Medusa.

Honestly, I can think of little else to say about this ghastly Itzpapalotl. The central motifs embody her message of mystery and darkness: her temple of night/stars, an overthrown throne and dead guy, and a fellow blindfolded for some reason. (Sometimes a blindfold indicates weeping—but then why’s he crying?) On the other hand, the tree with a monster-head for roots is an ancient symbol that occurs often in codices, also bleeding, sometimes chopped/wounded by a deity. The motif is inherited from Maya iconography where a crocodile (caiman) head represents the Earth Monster, out of which grows the Tree of Life. The bleeding, monster-rooted tree also appears with Itzpapalotl in her day-Vulture patron panels both in Borgia and Vaticanus.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – House trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

In both the Telleriano-Remensis and Rios versions, the intricate figure of Itzpapalotl includes her eponymous butterfly, though stylized within an inch of its insect life as a clawed bug with an outrageously unreal head (triple fangs and star-studded antennae!). For my Tonalamatl Yoal, I gave it the elongated and segmented abdomen added in the Rios copy reflecting a simple arc in Telleriano-Remensis, and I made it blue to suggest a psychedelic dragonfly. If you’re going to hallucinate, you might as well go all the way.

As far as claws go, notice that these are distinctly avian as opposed to the jaguar type in Borgia. Relying on her exuberant accessories in Telleriano-Remensis, I merely replaced some shapeless golden baubles on her unusual furry anklets and wristlets with symbolic stars and gave her a skirt, blouse and mantle in an appropriate night pattern borrowed from Borgia’s temple. Maybe we could also call her Itztlicue (Obsidian Skirt).

While the green plumes are standard ceremonial quetzal feathers, the brown ones in headdress and bustle would seem to be those of the Vulture, the day of which she’s the patron. In the course of re-positioning the goddess’s arms, I emphasized her reputedly alluring femininity by exposing her breast in an iconographically acceptable way, but that doesn’t do very much to beautify her sardonic, toothy grin. Overall, Itzpapalotl is one scary mother of mystery and darkness, an impressive Cihuateotl or Tzitzimitl.

Rather than a monster-head, this bleeding tree has a mass of normal roots and so maybe doesn’t refer to the ancestral Maya theme. Its luxurious display of many kinds of stylized fruit and flowers is in no way botanically realistic but tells us this is still a Tree of Life. Its divinatory purport is unclear (mysterious), and why the pretty thing been chopped in half is still unknown (another mystery). Thus it’s a fitting patron-companion for Itzpapalotl.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for House trecena

The panel in Tonalamatl Aubin leaves no doubt that the central blooming, fruited Tree of Life (again chopped in half) is some kind of a secondary patron of the House trecena. This one is bigger than Itzpapalotl, who’s relatively plain, except for many vulture feathers and bird-claws. In Aubin’s typical awkward stylization, I’d be hard-pressed to call her an attractive woman. Her lack of divine ornamentation suggests to me that the artist was way more concerned symbolically with the Tree and other divinatory clues in the trecena panel.

In terms of clues, I’m genuinely puzzled by the white thing she holds, possibly a conch shell, but the wrong shape and of inscrutable significance. The inverted pot of water and snake-head censer are common motifs, but that strange blue bar with bows in the dead center is a profound mystery. Another such bar is held by Chalchiuhtlicue in the Yoal Reed trecena, where I figured it was a blade of some sort. Maybe this one is too, considering the beheaded sacrificial bird…

And considering the decapitated human figure on the left, which must certainly be important for the auguries of this trecena. With the blindfolded head floating above, it easily reflects the impending fate of that blindfolded figure in Borgia. The detail of two serpents “bleeding” out of the guy’s severed neck is particularly striking because I’ve only seen it elsewhere in that famous huge (8.3 ft.) statue of Coatlicue, the Snake Skirt, sometimes reputed to be mother of the gods and mortals. I think that coincidence is mostly stylistic and has little to do with Itzpapalotl.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for House trecena

This eagle- (or vulture-) winged figure of Itzpapalotl in Codex Borbonicus was the model for my butterfly version of the goddess, though I ignored those furry wrist- and ankle-bands also seen in Yoal and opted for the skeletal face from Borgia. Here in the upper left, her companion Tree of Life with its severely stylized blossoms is planted in a fancy pot and has again been cut in half. However, rather than bleeding, the base has grown new flowering shoots, whatever that might mean for interpretations.

The dispersed conglom of familiar ritual items includes a beheaded eagle (with blade), incense bag, serpent, etc., as well as the scorpion seen in many Borbonicus patron panels. Most notable is on the lower left where a blindfolded guy lies on a temple of the starry night with two snakes wrapped around his neck, harking directly back to the Aubin image. Perhaps this was to indicate a severed neck without removing the head? In any case, this assemblage fairly well restates all the themes in the Borgia panel—except for the enigmatic overthrown throne.

As in most Borbonicus patron panels there are graphic discrepancies and distortions that I’ve not bothered to remark upon, but in this one, I challenge you to discover the glaring error. Did you find it? Answer: Itzpapalotl’s clawed right hand has a real thumb. The artist may have simply forgotten to color it like a claw. Not that it makes much difference to this elegant image of the goddess of the stars.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for House trecena

As might be expected, Codex Vaticanus returns to the canonical motifs of Tonalamatl Borgia, simply rearranged and severely re-visioned. The gruesome goddess has here become a surreal monster worthy of a nightmare. It has a crocodilian head (with an insect’s antennae), a lizard-like body with jaguar claws, and a radiating “wing” not at all like that of a bird or butterfly. In fact, it looks more like a dinosaur’s bony crest. This Itzpapalotl gets my vote as the freakiest freak in the in the whole freaking Aztec pantheon.

I can’t imagine what to make of the geometric item behind the throne—or why this “bug-zilla” is urinating so copiously. A similar composite creature portrays Itzpapalotl in a Vaticanus panel as patron of the day Vulture. For a long while, I assumed this thing was the god of monstrosities, Xolotl, and only in reviewing the House trecena panels did I realize my mistake. Now I know.

It’s interesting that this patron panel once again emphasizes the overthrown throne and dead and blindfolded guys—but still doesn’t explain their divinatory significance. And odd how it greatly de-emphasizes the bleeding Tree of Life with its little caiman-head root.

These five authentic patron panels show the remarkable orthodoxy of the ceremonial calendar, only differing in small details and degrees of emphasis. In this House trecena, of course, the threatening goddess Itzpapalotl in her wildly varying manifestations is effectively balanced by the positive, hopeful Tree of Life—which leaves the prophetic doors wide open. Meanwhile, considering these demonic images of Itzpapalotl (and Tzitzimime), I can almost understand how the Spanish priests might call the thousands of codices they burned “devil books.”

###

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

January 10, 2024

Aztec Calendar – Dog Trecena

The fourteenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Dog for its first numbered day, which is the 10^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language, Dog is Itzcuintli, and it’s known as Ok in Yucatec Maya and Tz’i’ in Quiché Maya.

Understandably, the day Dog is connected anatomically with the nose (i.e., the olfactory sense) and symbolizes protection, loyalty, companionship, comfort, compassion, watchfulness, and devotion. It guards households and lineages as well as the portal between worlds, conducting the sun through Underworld at night and leading souls of the dead to Mictlan. In those functions, Dog represents a light in the dark and night vision. As the psychopomp (guide) in Mictlan, that Dog is a breed called Xoloitzcuintli, the “Mexican hairless” dog, named for the dog-god Xolotl, also an Underworld figure. Meanwhile, the Xoloitzcuintli is Mexico’s national dog and a symbol of Mexico City. Per Fr. Duran’s 16^th-century account, people born on a Dog day will be courageous and generous, ascend in the world, and have many children.

In line with the Dog’s duties in the Underworld, the patron of that day is Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of the Land of the Dead (See Icon #10), a patron of the Flint trecena.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE DOG TRECENA

The patron of the Dog Trecena is Xipe Totec, god of liberation, rebirth, and springtime. He’s the lord of nature, agriculture, and vegetation and patron of gold- and silver-smiths and the day Eagle. Counter-intuitively he’s the god that invented warfare. In another paradox, as lord of the sunset, Xipe Totec is called the Red Tezcatlipoca (a nagual of that god) but also seen—along with Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (see Snake trecena)—as a god of the East. Symbolizing renewal, like an ear of maize stripped out of its husk, he (and his cult’s priests) often wore the skins of flayed sacrificial victims. He brings and cures rashes, boils, pimples, inflammations, and eye infections.

AUGURIES OF DOG TRECENA

Overseen by the Lord of Renewal and the life-affirming Feathered Serpent, this fire-oriented trecena tends to be oriented around the renewal of leadership, the forging of new directions, and the restoration of life. One of the key symbols associated with this time frame is a dog holding a torch, bringing light into darkness and showing the way. As guidance, justice, and forgiveness tend to be prominent themes in this period, it’s a good time to slough off the old, burn away transgressions, and take steps towards new possibilities.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/ Look for the Ok trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE DOG TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 10^th day of the current veintena, 1 Dog, this trecena counts: 2 Monkey, 3 Grass, 4 Reed, 5 Jaguar, 6 Eagle, 7 Vulture, 8 Earthquake, 9 Flint, 10 Rain, 11 Flower, 12 Crocodile, and 13 Wind.

Special days in the Dog trecena:

One Dog (in Nahuatl Ce Itzcuintli)—According to the Florentine Codex, this was a great feast day dedicated to Xiuhtecuhtli, the lord of fire, when people fed the fire with offerings (including decorative paper arrays) and incense. On this day rulers were elected, a court of justice sentenced wrong-doers, and minor offenders were released and absolved of transgressions.

Four Reed (in Nahuatl Nahui Acatl) was known as “the ruler’s day sign,” the day when new lords and rulers were installed, and tribute was paid to them. It was also a propitious day for the drilling of a New Fire because nahui acatl also meant “fire drills in all 4 directions.”

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

In my image of Xipe Totec, modelled on Codex Borbonicus (see below), I stuck close to its form but in my ignorant enthusiasm played with psychedelic colors that broke iconographic traditions. Instead of the usual yellow or brown flayed skin and red body, I chose a dramatic red skin and white body; unaware of the cultural significance of his green quetzal plumes, I gave him multi-colored crests; and rather than his standard red-and-white streamers and scarf, I fancied him up with wildly colorful decorations. Note the sunset scene on his back-flap, the eagle on his shield (as patron of that day-sign), and other unwitting departures from tradition. Inspired by the spring connection, I gave him a nice “bouquet” of greenery to hold, indicating his lordship of nature and vegetation. Despite all the heresies (blasphemies?), I think my Xipe Totec is a great vision of this outrageous divinity. Now for some “dogmatic” views.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Dog trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

Though this elegant Borgia image of Xipe Totec on the left doesn’t wear a victim’s flayed skin, he displays his standard red-and-white accessories. Some other traditional motifs are the convex red curve down his face and the bundle of arrows in his hand (signaling his connection to warfare and lordship). Most unusual is his stupendous crown, unlike anything I’ve ever seen elsewhere on any deity. His strange Y-shaped nosepiece only occurs in some of his Borgia portraits (including in the final Rabbit trecena). It’s another unique puzzle.

Amongst the ritual items in the center of this panel, the pointed red-and-white striped scepter is an emblem of Xipe Totec in his images in many codices. In some, it’s a full-scale staff with one or two points and in some the circular motif is an open oblong shape. Beyond a diagnostic of this deity, I’ve yet to figure out the significance of this scepter/staff and probably never will.

The figure on the right Dr. Paquin and many scholars see as a Feathered Serpent (Quetzalcoatl), a deity of “many faces.” (See Icon #14). I find it puzzling, first because if it’s supposed to be “life-affirming,” why is it eating the little guy? That doesn’t seem to embody the trecena’s theme of forgiveness. But I mostly question why it has a claw-footed leg (one only!) and a crocodilian head (without a snake’s fangs). Frankly, it looks to me more like an Earth Monster (Cipactli) shown often in the codices with a single leg and crocodilian snout and representing the mouth of the Underworld which both devours and produces life. That ties in well with the themes of renewal and rebirth. Another interpretation is that it may be a fire-serpent (Xiuhcoatl) relating to Xipe Totec’s militarism. In any case, I won’t presume to decide this eminently debatable issue.

Looking for an answer to the puzzle of that Y-shaped nosepiece, I checked out other images of Xipe Totec and found another Borgia portrait of him as patron of the day Eagle.

Xipe Totec as Patron of Day Eagle
(Codex Borgia)

Imagine my revulsion to see him holding a severed arm, the hand pinching his nose as though to block a stench. In fact, the wearing of a (rotting) human skin must have stunk to high heaven. Like a clothespin, that Y-shaped nosepiece must have served the same purpose. And then just imagine my surprise to see again in the upper register the one-clawed serpent, this time either eating or spitting out a rabbit. As the parallel day-Eagle patron panel in Codex Vaticanus portrays these very same motifs, there must be a deeper relationship between Xipe Totec and the ambiguous creature beyond their companionship in the Dog trecena. Again, renewal and rebirth?

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Dog trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

This dramatic image on the right is virtually identical in both source codices, a plumed, legless serpent devouring a little guy. Its head looks more like a snake, but it still lacks a serpent’s fangs. No doubt this is the good reason scholars see it as the Feathered Serpent (Quetzalcoatl). The discrepancy may lie in slight doctrinal differences between the areas where the codices were drawn, but either way, I figure the creature/deity still represents renewal and rebirth.

On the other hand, in terms of iconographic detail, the figure of Xipe Totec on the left is much more “dogmatic” than those in Borgia. In particular, he wears the (stinky) flayed skin, here in a pale yellow like that worn by Tlazolteotl in the Earthquake trecena, and I’ve given him the brown eagle-feathered skirt which Rios will give him later in the Rabbit trecena.

Most intriguing is his shield with the unusual, divided device, and I’m puzzled by the bundle of arrows (reeds) without arrow heads. Since his Telleriano-Remensis page is missing, I had to rely on the Rios copy, and instead of its murky brownish tones, I’ve colored many of his ornaments in his trademark red-and-white. My big question is how come, when Xipe Totec isn’t a lord of the day, he’s holding a totem bird? Such a blue bird is normally brandished by Xiuhtecuhtli, but in that case it should more properly be a blue hummingbird and not a parrot. I suppose this might simply be another instance of doctrinal difference—or iconographic confusion.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Dog trecena

Speaking of iconographic confusion, in this patron panel from Tonalamatl Aubin, the expected Feathered Serpent or Earth Monster is now a hungry (fanged) blob of eagle feathers, so we can’t tell which it’s meant to be. Xipe Totec here wears another flayed skin and more brown eagle feathers and carries a shield with a divided device, different than the one in Yoal but similar.

Note the dog behind his head for the trecena, the eagle in the upper left for his day, and that extraneous blue-beaked bird-head. Apropos extraneous, what’s that “Four Earthquake” day-sign on the left? That’s the name of the current Fifth Sun, and Xipe Totec has no connection to that legend. Even more inexplicable is the number eight at the bottom unattached to any day-sign.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Dog trecena

Here’s the Codex Borbonicus model for my trippy Xipe Totec. Even without my psychedelic colors, he’s at least as dramatic and much more authentically detailed. One thing I didn’t understand in my version was the smoking mirror on his head (symbolic of his being the Red Tezcatlipoca). I didn’t and still don’t recognize the scepter in this image, and that was another excuse for giving mine the bouquet of greenery.

The odd little symbol on the banner is totally unfamiliar, but it must be rather important being attached to the concentric shield smack in the middle of the composition. A sort of two-legged ankh? Meanwhile, the One Dog day-sign attached to the shield makes sense for the trecena. Again, I’m mystified by the Four Earthquake day-sign attached to his foot and wonder if that Three Eagle day-sign might be his day-name. I haven’t run across any for him before.

Observe the suggestive bucket of blood by his left foot and the inscrutable item with ten dots and the peak of his traditional staff on top. In the upper right corner is a decapitated green parrot-like bird which I assume means birds may have been a premium sacrifice to the deity. (This detail may well explain that bird-head in the Aubin panel above.)

Since it has no leg at all, we probably should accept Xipe Totec’s plumed companion as the Feathered Serpent/Quetzalcoatl, a clue to that identity being the adjacent double-headed serpent seen in Quetzalcoatl’s headdress in the Jaguar trecena. However, this feathered creature’s head, nose, and dentition are distinctly feline. In any case, the mystical creature fits beautifully into the long history of images of the Plumed Serpent.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Dog trecena

This patron panel from Codex Vaticanus I’ve rectified and restored slightly. Regarding Xipe Totec on the right, one wonders if the Vaticanus artist simply got on an easy “corpse-bundle” kick after Itztlacoliuhqui in the Lizard trecena and similarly bundling up Tlazolteotl in the Earthquake trecena. (The same funerary device will be used later for some reason for Xolotl in the Vulture trecena.) However, here I think it may signify Xipe Totec’s powers of rebirth. To be reborn, I suppose even a deity would have to die. Though he wears no emblematic regalia beyond the red stripe down his face, this god is well identified by his traditional candy-striped staff and standard bundle of arrows. On the left we once again find a one-legged Earth Monster reiterating the ambiguity of this subsidiary patron of the Dog trecena. For the purpose of divination, take your pick.

Something about these images of Xipe Totec troubles me. Namely, if he’s supposed to be the deity of springtime, nature, agriculture, and vegetation, there are no iconographic references to any of that. Apart from a suspiciously intimate relationship with the Earth Monster, all I see are military and lordship symbols. Perhaps the underlying message of nature is dramatized by the monster/serpent creature eating the little guy (and rabbit)—showing that philosophically speaking, life lives on life. Or if I might use a stronger, but still appropriate idiom: dog eat dog. So, my invented bouquet of greenery in the deity’s hand turns out to be quite apropos.

As for that ambiguous serpentine creature, I’ve concluded that its one leg is actually an epitome of intentional ideoplastic art. As remarked in the Jaguar trecena, that’s an image meant to be understood in intended detail rather than as optically accurate. Here the viewer’s quick brain automatically, unconsciously creates an invisible second leg immediately behind the one in front, a neat trick that makes drawing things in natural perspective conveniently unnecessary.

###

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

September 1, 2023

The Mighty Morning Star

For at least 35 years, I’ve been fascinated by the art and iconography of the Aztecs of central Mexico, specifically by their ceremonial calendar, and didn’t pay much attention to that of the Maya from several hundred years earlier of Yucatan and Guatemala. I saw little connection between cultures beyond the philosophical structure of the ceremonial calendar that had passed down over millennia from the even earlier Olmec through both the Maya and Teotihuacan to the Toltecs and on to the Nahuatl peoples and late-coming Aztecs. But that was just because I was resolutely ignorant of Mesoamerican history.

Of course, I’d seen a few examples of the art of the earlier cultures, mostly pieces of Maya murals from San Bartolo and Bonampak:

Details of the San Bartolo and Bonampak Maya Murals

While remarkably elegant, they didn’t seem to relate much to my favorite Aztec styles and subjects. The same could be said about my passing acquaintance with the few Maya codices that survived the Spanish book burnings like the Madrid and Dresden codices. I never even bothered to look into the Paris codex.

Details of the Madrid and Dresden Maya Codices

Though impressed with these later Postclassic documents, I left ancient Maya art and mythology to other friends and scholars and blithely continued my intimacies with the Aztec calendar and their wild deities, assuming little iconographic continuity over the intervening centuries.

My ill-informed attitude changed when a kind friend returned from a show at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles in early January 2023 with the program for “Códice Maya de México” (Maya Codex of Mexico). A fourth surviving codex I hadn’t known about, it was only discovered in 1965 and previously called the Grolier Codex. The document has been dated to between 1021 and 1154 CE, earlier the other three Maya codices.

The severely damaged manuscript tracks and predicts the movements of the planet Venus (also the subject of the Dresden Codex), a prime concern of the Maya for both agriculture and divination. Its ten fragmentary panels deal with Inferior and Superior conjunctions, Evening Star, and Morning Star, each with thirteen of the same Maya calendrical day-signs in various disordered numerical sequences. The program explains that each date “marks the crucial first day of a phase of Venus.”

I can’t pretend to understand the astronomical system, but the deities accompanying the phases with their personal regalia and ritual activities were strikingly familiar, also hinting of the art of Teotihuacan and Toltec. Their headdresses, ornaments, pendants, and weapons—as well as bound prisoners— could easily be Aztec images. The panel that particularly held my eye was page 8, the second one dealing with the Morning Star phase:

The repeating day-glyph is Kib—corresponding to the Aztec Cozcacuauhtli (Vulture)—and the sequence 10, 5, 13, 8, 4, etc. (if that’s the direction the count runs), mystifies me. The eagle-clawed deity with bird headdress must surely be the Maya god of the Morning Star known as Chak Ek’. The arrow/spear that he shot into the temple is a familiar motif in the Aztec codices from centuries later.

That and the structure of repeating numbered day-signs recall five mysterious panels in Codex Borgia of Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (Lord of the House of the Dawn—the Morning Star) attacking gods and places in this way. Checking into those panels, I found them each also accompanied by odd sequences of the same, though different, day-signs. What’s more, similar sets of Morning Star panels in both Codex Vaticanus and Codex Cospi apparently also reflect the Maya theme.

However, while the Maya panels involve the seven day-signs Wind, Lizard, Rabbit, Grass, Jaguar, Vulture, and Flint, the Aztec panels use five different day-signs: Crocodile, Snake, Water, Reed, and Earthquake. So, the Aztecs clearly were using the numbered-day structure of these Morning Star panels for some purpose other than astronomy.

Morning Star Panels with Day-Sign Crocodile

This first set displays an oddly numbered sequence of Crocodile day-signs with the next three day-signs (Wind, House, and Lizard) appearing inside the main panel. The numbering runs clockwise in Borgia from lower right (1, 8, 2, 9, 3, 10, etc.), and counterclockwise in Vaticanus from the same position. This turns out to be the sequence of the day-sign’s occurrence in the calendar count (tonalpohualli), not any notation of Venus cycles.

Meanwhile, in the Cospi version, the lower half of a double panel, the border shows successive days in their properly numbered calendrical order, and with the other half above is a curious sequence of 1 Snake, 6 Death, 7 Deer, and 8 Rabbit. The other Cospi panels for 1 Water, 1Reed, and 1 Earthquake take the odd count through Flower, sorely confusing the basic principle.

All five day-signs, Crocodile, Snake, Water, Reed, and Earthquake symbolize East, which is perfectly fitting for the Morning Star. The border sequences are ordered lists of all calendar days relating to East, and the three other days shown inside the panels represent the other directions:

Now let’s consider the narrative content of the Crocodile (above) and other panels in this series:

Morning Star Panels with Day-Sign Water

Morning Star Panels with Day-Sign Earthquake

In the Borgia series, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli appears in various guises, a Death god, Eagle, Dog, Rabbit, and another Death god. In Vaticanus, he’s a consistent image of a flayed deity with “dangerous” eyes, and in Cospi he’s more or less the same Death god. In all of these images, he attacks someone or something with a spear. Apparently, bellicosity implies great power.

Considering his victims confuses things. In the Borgia Crocodile set, he attacks Chalchiuhtlicue, in Vaticanus some male god (maybe Xochipilli), and in Cospi Centeotl. In the Snake set, the Borgia victim is Tezcatlipoca, and in Vaticanus and Cospi Chalchiuhtlicue. In the Water set, in Borgia he attacks Centeotl, but in Vaticanus and Cospi the throne of a water deity (Tlaloc?). In all the Reed sets, he attacks the throne of some deity, and in the Earthquake set, he strikes a military symbol in Borgia and the divine jaguar of rulership in the others.

That variation in victims doesn’t explain why the Morning Star is so aggressively pugnacious, but it certainly helps understand how Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli had the chutzpah to attack the Sun God Tonatiuh during the creation of the Fifth Sun. Ever since Maya times, the Morning Star seems to have been a mighty bad boy much to be feared. In Aztec mythology he became an important nagual (manifestation) of the great god Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent.

On his way to Aztec fame, during the earlier Toltec (Postclassic) era, the cult of the Morning Star was apparently carried in the 12^th century by those trader/warriors to the Mississippian civilization in North America. An effigy pipe called “Big Boy” from that period was found at Spiro OK in an astronomical arrangement representing creation myths. It portrays Morningstar, a mythical warrior also known as Redhorn.

Mississippian Effigy Pipe “Big Boy” (drawing by author)

The Morning Star was also a Mississippian culture hero referred to as Birdman, and imagery of him with wings and clawed feet like the Maya Chak Ek’ is found in rock art, shell gorgets, and copper ornaments throughout the Mississippian area. In the mythologies of later tribes, he’s a prominent deity/hero: Apisirahts for the Blackfoot and either male or female deities for the Iroquois, Wichita, Pawnee, Ojibwe, Crow, and other tribes. In the Southwest, the Tewa have a Morning Star god called ‘Agojo so’jo (Big Star), a messenger of the Sun associated with warfare. Obviously, for at least a thousand years, the Morning Star has been a mighty myth of the Americas, and it’s still revered among Native American artists.

Morning Star Design by Contemporary Acoma Artist Irvin J. Louis, c. 2022

August 30, 2023

Aztec Calendar – Lizard Trecena

The twelfth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Lizard for its first numbered day, which is the 4^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Lizard is Cuetzpallin, and it’s known as K’an in Yucatec Maya and K’at in Quiché Maya.

Pre-Conquest Codex drawings of the anatomical connection of the day Lizard are indecisive at best. Codex Rios points to the abdominal region of a male body, perhaps intimating the intestines—or the womb in a female? I can find no diagram of specific female anatomy, but the vagina is at times linked to a flower. In Codex Borgia plate 17, the Lizard is apparently “tied” (modestly under his loin flap) to Tezcatlipoca’s male genitalia (testicles?) and in plate 72 explicitly to his penis; in Borgia 53 it’s again linked explicitly to the penis. In plate 75 of Codex Vaticanus, it’s at Ehecatl’s left hand and in Borgia 73 at Mictlantecuhtli’s. (Meanwhile, in Borgia 17 the snake appears suggestively on his loin flap and in Borgia 73 as Ehecatl’s tongue and in Vaticanus 75 as Mictlantecuhtli’s.) I think it’s safe to say that the Aztecs broadly linked the Lizard to sexual organs, be they whichever, and concomitantly to reproduction and fertility.

My learned colleague Dr. Paquin advises that from the Maya perspective, K’an is about the germination of corn (maize) in the womb of the Earth, with emphasis on growth potential. From that to the Aztec concept of Lizard as representing sex and reproduction is but an intuitive step. Dr. Paquin also notes that one reference remarks, “those born under the sign One Lizard were forceful and alert, and sound of body, and that falling down will not injure them any more than a lizard would be hurt if it falls from a high to a low place.” Also, a Mayan elder wrote that K’an-born people “possess a powerful energy that allows them to overcome obstacles.” Dr. Paquin also advised, “I have found many, many examples of K’an-born people being overwhelmingly wealthy—as if there is no limit to their ability to germinate into enormous opulence whatever they touch.” How much of that was relevant to later Aztec thought is debatable.

Not surprisingly, the divine patron of the day Lizard is Huehuecoyotl, the Old Coyote (See Icon #6), the god of sexual indulgence (as well as of music, dance, storytelling, and choral singing), seen earlier as patron of the Flower Trecena.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE TRECENA

In my research long ago, the patron of the Lizard Trecena was identified as Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror (See Icon #19), deity of fate and bringer of war and change. The 10^th lord of the day and god of the North, he protects slaves and is patron of magicians, sorcery, and divination, as well as bringing and curing diseases.

However, more recently another patron of the trecena has been recognized: Itztlacoliuhqui, the Curved Obsidian Blade. Maybe reflecting the Maya God Q, he’s the deity of stone, frost, ice, cold, sin, punishment, castigation, and human misery, but also of objectivity and blind-folded justice. Spawned by a conflict between Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, Lord of the House of the Dawn (See the Snake Trecena), and Tonatiuh, God of the Fifth Sun (See the Death Trecena), the Obsidian Blade somehow wound up as one of the naguals (manifestations) of Tezcatlipoca. His complicated heritage suggests a subconscious Aztec tendency to syncretism also involving Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent, creator of the Fifth Sun, who, as the planet Venus is the “overlord” of his nagual Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, and possibly a twin/nemesis of Tezcatlipoca. The Aztec deities have subtle ways of blending and merging into an amorphous theological stew.

AUGURIES OF LIZARD TRECENA

The first half of this trecena extends the “anything is possible” sequence that gives birth to the 20-day Maya month (uinal) as begun in the Monkey trecena, and now the emphasis is more of a cautionary nature. The theme of this trecena is about the germination of new ideas or directions, but it can also be a time of “testing.” In this period, careful nurturing of new ideas and staying vigilant is advised in order to help the “seeds of the new” to take root and flourish.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the K’an trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE LIZARD TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 4^th day of the preceding veintena, 1 Lizard, this trecena continues with 2 Snake, 3 Death, 4 Deer, 5 Rabbit, 6 Water, 7 Dog, 8 Monkey, 9 Grass, 10 Reed, 11 Jaguar, 12 Eagle, and 13 Vulture.

In general Aztec calendrics there’s only one day in this trecena of particular import, Five Rabbit. However, for the ancient Maya in the “Chilam Balam of Chumayel,” the first seven days continue their “Creation” sequence, as once again kindly provided by Dr. Paquin. These later steps in the Maya sequence are just as vague, convoluted, and confused as the first thirteen in the Monkey Trecena. It’s small wonder that later Aztec lore apparently forgot that obscure ancient mythology, opting for the dramatic tale of Tezcatlipoca creating the First Sun, Four Jaguar (Nahui Ocelotl), in the process losing his left foot in battle with the Earth Monster Cipactli.

One Lizard (in Yucatec Maya 1 K’an) the day when the Creator deity was troubled (as in his spirit afflicted), and he first created anger (perhaps first felt anger) “because of the evil that he had created.” In the preceding trecena on the day Nine Rain, there was an attempt at creating hell, (the Underworld or Xibalba), and on Ten Flower as yet uncreated wicked men went there. Speaking of convolutions, evil doesn’t appear until tomorrow, Two Snake, and it’s intriguing that the Creator got angry for what “he” hadn’t done yet.

Two Snake (in Yucatec Maya 2 Chikchan) the day when evil appeared and was discovered by men. So, it was only now that men could be wicked enough to go to hell back on Ten Flower.

Three Death (in Yucatec Maya 3 Kimi) the day when the first death was invented. So, the wicked went to hell yesterday (or four days before) but only died today. One gets the feeling that perhaps this Maya creation sequence somehow runs halfway backwards in time.

Four Deer (in Yucatec Maya 4 Manik’) is a Creation-sequence day left blank in the Chilam Balam manuscript but thought to be something like “Spirit passing over.” Maybe it’s simply the Maya Creator’s “day of rest” like the Judeo-Christian Seventh Day, a Sabbath or sabbatical.

Five Rabbit (in Nahuatl Macuil Tochtli) is the day-name of one of the five Ahuiateteo or male deities of pleasure/excess, a big shot among the 400 rabbit-gods of intoxication and often paired with One Monkey (See Monkey Trecena), one of the female Cihuateteo.

(in Yucatec Maya 5 Lamat) is the day when the seven great waters of the sea were established. Remember that “all things” and “everything” had been created separately on two other days earlier in the sequence. So, were the waters only now gathered together into the “seven great waters”—into seas already created on Three Reed? Speaking of confusion…

Six Water (in Yucatec Maya 6 Muluk) the day when all the valleys were submerged before the world had awakened. Why were the valleys submerged when the waters had only yesterday been “established” in their great seas? The “breath of life” had already been created on Twelve Wind, and there’s been no mention of the earth being asleep till now. In fact, it’s long been a busy place what with being born on Seven Earthquake and being luxuriously furnished with rocks, trees, animals, birds, and man on other earlier days.

Seven Dog (in Yucatec Maya 7 Ok) the day when “occurred the invention of the word of God” when the uinal (the 20-day monthly cycle) was created, and all was set in order.” Inventing the word of God is a hard act to follow—or believe.

Incidentally, the trecena includes two more days significant for the ancient Maya but of no apparent import for the Aztecs:

Eight Monkey (in Yucatec Maya 8 Chuwen or in Quiché Maya 8 Batz’) is still a major ceremonial day for the Guatemalan Maya, sometimes referred to as the Maya New Year, primarily focused on celebrating the renewal of the sacred calendar.

Nine Grass (in Yucatec Maya 9 Eb’) was the day-name of a Maya goddess of Death and the fertile earth, as well as an oracle. I haven’t seen any Aztec notice of this goddess, but that might well be the day-name of Huitzilopochtli’s sister Malinalxochitl (Grass Flower), a sorceress and goddess of snakes, scorpions, and insects of the desert. If not, no matter…

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

As mentioned above, when I drew my version of the Lizard Trecena (in colored pencil) over 30 years ago, its patron was generally seen as Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror. The only codex image I’d found of the Black One was a figure from plate 21 in Codex Borgia, which I reversed and doctored up with a bigger and more ornate shield and arrows, enhanced with subtle detail changes, and gave lots of blue (to go better with black). My unwitting iconographic mistake was to omit the traditional yellow stripes on his face. With the eponymous smoking mirror as a left foot, my image thus wove in the story of his epic battle with the Earth Monster and (again unwittingly) incorporated several of the deity’s traditional emblems. He’s a real showstopper.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar –Lizard trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

The figure of Tezcatlipoca on the right in this patron panel from the Tonalamatl Borgia is the only one to be found in the surviving Tonalamatls, and it’s likely why earlier scholars called him the patron of the Lizard Trecena. Other figures of this deity occur in Codex Borgia in many contexts, most similar (like my own above), but in fact he was reputed to be invisible, in rituals his presence merely indicated by the mystical appearance of a right-foot print in a box of sand.

Invisibility made it easy for Tezcatlipoca to manifest as various naguals including Tepeyollotl, Heart of the Mountain (patron of the Deer Trecena); Chalchiuhtotolin, the Jade Turkey (patron of the upcoming Water Trecena); Itztli, god of sacrifice and another form of Tecpatl, the sacrificial knife.; Xipe Totec, the Flayed God or Red Tezcatlipoca (patron of the upcoming Dog Trecena); and of course his companion in this patron panel, Itztlacoliuhqui, the Curved Obsidian Blade.

Being the “jaguar of the night,” the figure stands on the thatched roof of the night sky (as does Tepeyollotl in the Deer Trecena). I suspect that this added “pedestal” is why the codex artist fore-shortened the god’s traditionally larger plumed back-bundle. Unfortunately, the original codex image is severely damaged, particularly in this ornament and around his hindquarters. So, I’ve reconstructed it, his skirt, and tail-flap using details from other Borgia images. By the way, the item in his painfully twisted upper hand is apparently a scepter of divine power/rulership.

Meanwhile, Itztlacoliuhqui enthroned on the left is one of the more elegant and enigmatic images of this unusual deity. Unique among Aztec deities, no item of human form (except an elemental head) detracts from this image as an abstract, divine idol. Elsewhere in Borgia as patron of the day Reed, he looks like Tezcatlipoca but still wears the blindfold of objectivity.

Among other odd items of the Blade’s paraphernalia, the most telling is that arrow/dart stuck in his head, whereon hangs the tale of the celestial conflict mentioned earlier. In short, when Quetzalcoatl/Ehecatl created the Fifth world, a young god named Nanahuatzin leapt into the cosmic conflagration to become the new sun (Tonatiuh) and then refused to move until the other gods recognized his supremacy. Unwilling to kowtow, Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli (the Morning Star) shot an arrow at Tonatiuh, which that god caught and threw back at him, hitting the Lord of the House of the Dawn in the forehead. To redeem the situation, Tonatiuh turned the target into a new god, a nagual illogically of Tezcatlipoca, namely Itztlacoliuhqui. I can’t explain why the arrow is broken here, except maybe to make it fit on the page.

The rest of the panel is comfortably uncluttered. The ornamental pulque pot is likely homage to the intoxicated Five Rabbit just below it, but the other two items bear comment. The inverted (empty) vase at the top probably intends to warn people about what recklessness can cause if they’re not cautious in generating new ideas and directions (not to mention opulence). The falling figure may indicate someone in a situation out of their control (a victim of fate). Usually, falling indicates a deceased person (with closed eyes), but this one’s eyes are open. We’ll come to understand this motif better with evidence from other tonalamatls.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Lizard trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

The more human image of Itztlacoliuhqui on the left is heavily loaded down with divine accoutrements. Here the blind, black-striped face wears an abstract crescent nosepiece instead of a blindfold, and the legendary arrow is now a large ornate spear. A curious detail is that the left side of his/its body has been flayed, and strips of flayed skin are evidently included in the headdress and profusion of flaps and scarves (no doubt as signs of holiness). The flaying may also refer to his connection with Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli, who’s almost always represented thus. In his right hand is a swatch of straw or broom thought to indicate cleaning/clearing required before “germination of new ideas or directions;” in the Borgia panel it’s probably reflected in that idol’s straw cape.

The two human figures on the right immediately clarify the meaning of Borgia’s falling fellow. They represent Itztlacoliuhqui’s symbolism of justice and/or castigation and punishment of sin. Both stoning and strangling were standard Aztec methods of execution, which I strongly suspect didn’t come with the religious benefits of sacrificial rites. Note these two figures’ eyes are closed indicating death. While this trecena generously portends the “nurturing of new ideas,” it clearly doesn’t pretend to be gentle or forgiving. Of course, objective justice rarely is.

The Codex Rios copies of this trecena page are exceptionally blurry and careless, and I relied solely on the Telleriano-Remensis original for this re-creation. An innovation was making the bladed crest on his headdress black to indicate obsidian, which various sources claim as an iconographic attribute of Itztlacoliuhqui. However, in other images the points are normally left white, the primary color of this deity. My other innovation was to reposition his left arm so that it wasn’t jutting from his forehead, a frequent problem with Aztec-style figures.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Lizard trecena

In the Tonalamatl Aubin, the Blade is almost entirely white with only red points on the obsidian crest of the standard headdress (struck with only a small arrow). Here his whole body, eyeless face, and headdress are flayed. In the upper hand is evidently the broom (on an arm typically and weirdly coming out of his forehead). The two (deformed) humans seem to be bleeding from punishment, maybe for disporting with pulque and some kind of flower or fruit, but they’re still alive. The four small bleeding items beg explanation, particularly the front half of the snake. Whoever uses these panels for divination will just have to make what they will of such details.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Lizard trecena

The patron panel in Codex Borbonicus presents yet another elegant and enigmatic figure of Itztlacoliuhqui. This time he has a human body, a crescent nosepiece as in Yoal, and again only a small arrow piercing his headdress, and he holds a rather large broom for sweeping the way clean. His mostly white raiment of bands, sashes, and pointy ornaments conveys an appropriate sense of crystalline cold and ice. Some sources suggest that the bumpy texture of his legs and arms represents a covering of unspun cotton (tlazolli) destined to be “ordered” as spun cotton (ichcatl). I find that interpretation strained, but this texture doesn’t look anything like the striped flaying we’ve seen in his other images.

As in most Borbonicus patron panels, lots of ritual objects are shown in a scattered conglom, including two little executed folks on the lower right, some inverted containers (pulque and water), and another front half of a snake, for whatever that might mean. Oddly, on the lower left where the symbol of the trecena is usually placed, instead of a lizard, we find a two-headed snake. Quite curious, in the upper center the arrow has a side-notched flint point I’ve not seen in other Aztec instances. Even odder, at the bottom center is an inscrutable animal head (a deer?). Have fun interpreting this arcane collection.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Lizard trecena

The Codex Vaticanus patron panel more or less restates the Borgia version—minus the big cheese, Tezcatlipoca—again leaving his nagual Itztlacoliuhqui as undisputed patron of the trecena. Only this time, the blind “idol” is even more abstracted, looking like a standard corpse bundle with a broken arrow stuck in the top. This tells me that the deity of stone, cold, etc., must be dead, not a god of Death but a defunct god, which is a passing strange concept. But an arrow in the head is usually lethal, and the dead can afford to be objective.

Put simply, the Lizard Trecena is an optimistic, if rather gruesome, time period in the Aztec calendar. Our discussion has now set the record straight that the ominous Curved Obsidian Blade is its sole patron, and sinners should beware. Fortunately, it only lasts for 13 days…

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s thirteenth trecena will be that of Earthquake (or Motion/Movement) with Tlazolteotl, Goddess of Filth, again as its patron. (She was also a patron of the Deer Trecena.)

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

May 21, 2023

Aztec Calendar – Monkey Trecena

The eleventh trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Monkey for its first numbered day, which is also the 11^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Monkey is Ozomatli, and it’s known as Chuwen in Yucatec Maya and B’atz in Quiché Maya.

The day Monkey, one of the five days symbolizing the direction West, is considered a good day to start a journey. In some codices, birth almanacs indicate that a child born on a Monkey day would be ill-favored, though dramatic, clever, and charming. In general, Monkey is a day for creating, playing, celebrating, fun, frivolity, and merriment. (For some arcane reason, it’s paired anatomically with the left arm.)

This Aztec concept was clearly inherited from the earlier Maya, for whom the Monkey represented cleverness and mental agility, creativity, capriciousness, playfulness, and cleverly weaving things/themes together. Monkeys were also viewed negatively as tricksters, for their child-like behavior and magical stratagems. As tricksters they were associated with drunkenness, capriciousness, and licentiousness, behaving sometimes with reckless abandon.

The Maya concept of Monkey was shaped by their mythical Monkey Twins, Hun B’atz and Hun Choven (One Monkey and One Artisan), the talented older half-brothers of the celebrated Hero Twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque. In the Classic Maya Popol Vuh, the account of Quiché Maya creation, these Monkey Twins were scribes and sages, as well as musicians, flautists, singers, carvers, ball players, and diviners. They were also comedians of ritual humor, famous for mocking political positions, and interpreters of sacred knowledge. The tradition connecting monkeys and artists/craftsmen survived across the many centuries into Aztec culture.

The patron of the day Monkey is Xochipilli, the Flower Prince (See Icon #18). god of the arts, fertility (agriculture and flowers), happiness/ecstasy, dreams/hallucinations, and indiscriminate sexuality.

PATRON DEITY RULING THE TRECENA

The divine patron of the Monkey trecena is Patecatl, the god of medicine, surgery, and, most importantly, the alcoholic drink Pulque (octli) and psychedelic herbs. (See Icon #13.) Both the drink and the psychedelics are crucial elements in Aztec religious ceremonies. With his wife Mayauel (goddess of Pulque and patron of the Grass trecena), he’s the father of the 400 Rabbits, the libidinous deities of all sorts of drunkenness.

AUGURIES OF MONKEY TRECENA

The theme of this trecena is Creation and Play. In the “Chilam Balam of Chumayel” it’s referred to as the “Creation” trecena initiating a 20-day month (uinal) in the Maya calendar, and the time period aligns with high creativity and “time weaving.” The tie-ins with pulque and “monkey business” suggest an association with healing and even re-invention through play and artistry. While “anything is possible” during this period, there’s also potential for both intoxication and reckless abandon. Overall, this period is associated with good fortune and the arts—a good time to give oneself permission to play!

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the Chuwen trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE MONKEY TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 11^th day of the current veintena, 1 Monkey, this trecena continues with 2 Grass, 3 Reed, 4 Jaguar, 5 Eagle, 6 Vulture, 7 Earthquake, 8 Flint, 9 Rain, 10 Flower, 11 Crocodile, 12 Wind, and 13 House.

In general Aztec calendrics there are only two days in this trecena of particular import, One Monkey and Four Jaguar. However, for the ancient Maya, as the middle point in the calendar, One Monkey had been seen as the center of the Tree of Life, symbolic of the creative forces of the universe, the day of magic and potential, like a conductor or overseer of the process of creation to unfold over the next 20 days. In this context, it’s instructive to remark on all the thirteen days in their “Creation” trecena. Please forgive my amateur editorializing on the steps in the cosmological sequence kindly provided by Dr. Paquin.

One Monkey (in Nahuatl Ce Ozomatli) is the day-name of one of the Cihuateteo who, to judge by her day-name, was perhaps a licentious trickster. She was apparently paired with Five Rabbit (Macuil Tochtli), one of the Ahuiateteo, a god of drunkenness. Also, according to the chronicler Sahagun, anyone born on One Monkey was regarded favorably and would entertain others, likely becoming a singer, dancer, or scribe and producing some work of art. In the Florentine Codex, One Monkey is also connected with Aztec singers, dancers, and painters, much like the earlier day One Flower (See Flower Trecena).

(in Yucatec Maya 1 Chuwen), according to the “Chilam Balam of Chumayel,” the first day in the Creation sequence when 1 Monkey “manifested himself in his divinity and created Heaven and Earth.”

Two Grass (in Yucatec Maya 2 Eb’) the day when the first pyramid (aka the first staircase) was made to descend “from the heart of the heavens.”

Three Reed (in Yucatec Maya 3 B’en) the day when “all things” of heaven and earth and the seas were made. Note that Heaven and Earth had already been created on 1 Chuwen—with a pyramid/staircase constructed between them on 2 Eb’.

Four Jaguar (in Nahuatl Nahui Ocelotl) is the day-name of the First Sun (Era), a world created by Tezcatlipoca after defeating the Earth Monster (Cipactli) and losing his left foot in the battle. He ruled that Sun, which was peopled by giants and ultimately destroyed by divine jaguars. The day-sign Four Jaguar appears in the center of the Stone of the Suns.

(in Yucatec Maya 4 Ix) the day when the separation of Heaven and Earth took place. Note that the two realms were already separate and linked only by the aforementioned staircase or pyramid. I find this sequence of creation not a little confusing.

Five Eagle (in Yucatec Maya 5 Men) the day when “everything” was made. How this relates to 3 B’en isn’t clear, “all things” apparently being construed as somehow different than “everything.”

Six Vulture (in Yucatec Maya 6 Kib’) the day when the first candle was made, when it became light, and “when there was neither sun nor moon.” Again, it’s unclear what such a candle was to bring the light when there “was neither sun nor moon.”

Seven Earthquake (in Yucatec Maya 7 Kab’an) the day when honey was first created and the earth was born. I can’t even guess what that “honey” was (since honey bees were an Old World species), and the notion of the earth being born rather than created is intriguing. One wonders who its parents might have been. Besides, the earth had already been created on 1 Chuwen.

Eight Flint (in Yucatec Maya 8 Etz’nab) the day when “he rooted hands and feet upon earth” and made birds. We can only assume that “he” was 1 Monkey.

Nine Rain (in Yucatec Maya 9 Kawak) the day when, for the first time, there was an attempt to create hell. This step in the Creation sequence is fraught with questions: Why create hell in the first place, and why did this first attempt fail? We can only assume that this “hell” was supposed to be the Underworld, Xibalba.

Ten Flower (in Yucatec Maya 10 Ajaw) the day when “wicked men went to hell.” We’re missing something in this Creation sequence because men had not yet been created, wicked or otherwise, and the attempt to create hell the day before had failed. The text tries to explain this discrepancy by adding “because the holy God had not yet appeared,” but that only adds to the confusion. Who was the “holy God? If it was 1 Monkey, he had indeed already “rooted” on earth on 8 Etz’nab, and we haven’t heard about any other deity yet. Some accounts apparently translate this explanation as “so they might not be noticed,” but that only makes things even murkier: noticed by whom?

Eleven Crocodile (in Yucatec Maya 11 Imix) the day when rocks and trees were formed. This may relate to the Aztec concept of Tezcatlipoca building the world of the First Sun on the back of Cipactli, the Earth Monster.

Twelve Wind (in Yucatec Maya 12 Ik’) the day when the breath of life was created. It’s interesting that birds had already been created on 8 Etz’nab; on 10 Ajaw there were wicked men to go to a hell that hadn’t been successfully created; and trees had been created on 11 Imix. The Maya must not have considered birds and trees as being truly alive.

Thirteen House (in Yucatec Maya 13 Ak’b’al) the day when man was shaped from water and moistened clay. This is an iconic way to wrap up the trecena’s creation sequence, but there remain enormous inconsistencies. Vaguely parallel to the Judeo-Christian 7-day account in the Book of Genesis, this Maya sequence doesn’t mention a Garden of Eden—or Elohim—but maybe those details will emerge in the first seven days of the Lizard trecena to follow.

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

Again, when I made my version of the Monkey trecena, I knew nothing about Patecatl and simply relied on Codex Nuttall for a figure of a male deity, properly enthroned:

I’m gratified that totally by accident I gave him a fairly appropriate nosepiece, but there’s yet another accidental item worth noting. To represent Patecatl’s patronage of herbs, I constructed a plant, and to my surprise, the combination of green and red made the plant’s red stalk come across as brown—a serendipitous psychedelic effect.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Monkey trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

The figure of Patecatl on the left has nothing in particular to identify him. In fact, the nosepiece, the crescent designs on his “skirt,” and his awkward teeth look a lot like the goddess Tlazolteotl in the Deer trecena. Like in my concocted version, the Borgia artist seems not to have had a clear iconographic concept of this deity, adorning him with standard, if androgynous, regalia.

The intricate jaguar on the right is nowhere mentioned as a patron of this trecena, but we’ll see him again later. It’s curious that in the Deer trecena, Tlazolteotl is also paired with the jaguar of the night, Tepeyollotl, Heart of the Mountain. This one would seem to be the deity Ocelotl, Lord of the Animals (See Icon #11), possibly reflecting the special day Four Jaguar. The many sacrificial knives attached to its body must emphasize its divine nature, but who knows what the banner signifies? Note that this image ignores the real animal’s muscular proportions and especially its powerful jaw (with one of the strongest bites in the animal kingdom).

Meanwhile, the pattern of this jaguar’s bright pelt is even more highly stylized than that of Tlazolteotl’s jaguar of the night, which is darker and somewhat less intricate. In most Aztec images of a jaguar, the codex artists never attempt a naturalistic treatment of the animal’s complex and varying coloration and markings. In “Jaguars Changing Spots,” I’ve discussed the various Aztec treatments of its natural patterns as shown in this collection:

Quite conspicuous as the centerpiece of this patron panel, the assemblage of shield, arrows, and ceremonial objects is one of the more ostentatious in the Tonalamatl Borgia, of which there are many. I can’t rightly explain what all the material represents or signifies but have decided to call the whole kit and kaboodle simply a “conglom” (i.e., a conglomeration of assorted symbolic items). I suspect that such congloms were intended primarily as decorations.

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Monkey trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

As opposed to his anonymous image in the Borgia version above, the figure of Patecatl here on the left wears a load of regalia, probably to make the god of medicine look divine, hoping some of the symbols will indicate who he is. In fact, that crescent nosepiece we’ve seen before is an identifier of this patron god. In this mix of iconographic items, there are several items normally emblematic of other gods. On top of his outsized headdress, there’s a spiked crown like that of Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of the Night in the upper corners, and that flowering shinbone in front of it is a sure signal of Quetzalcoatl. But that stalked flowery ornament sticking out front is a true indication of Patecatl.

That’s just the top of the headdress. Below that, we find an elaborate bow construction which in earlier calendrical images identifies Ehecatl/Quetzalcoatl. Then comes the standard divine fore- and aft-flanged fans that appear with several of the Lords of the Night above. I’m at a loss to decode the oddly decorated base of his crown with those almost googly eyes, and the necklace of cowry shells strongly suggests Quetzalcoatl again. But the flint-bladed club in the god’s left hand we’ll see again as another emblem of Patecatl. (Maybe it’s an Aztec scalpel for his surgical magic.) Likewise, the feathered fan/wing of apparent eagle-feathers on his back seems to be his symbol, and the unusual, frilled bag an appropriately shamanic “medicine-pouch.” His red face looks awfully fierce, and ironically, as in the Borgia image, he direly needs orthodontic work.

The Yoal patron is again juxtaposed with a banner-bearing jaguar—as well as with a banner-waving eagle, the Lords of the Animals and Birds respectively. Their lordliness is emphasized by their nearly free-form headdresses and “bustles, and both are seriously anthropomorphic with human faces—a frequent motif in images of “jaguar- and eagle-men” and animal headdresses. These can be men in jaguar/eagle costumes or “were-creatures” like were-wolves, etc. Note this jaguar has human hands but jaguar feet. In the crude Telleriano-Remensis and Rios originals, the eagle also had hands, which I judiciously chose to replace with proper claws.

Speaking of crude originals, whoever drew these two lordly beasts in Telleriano-Remensis surely probably wasn’t the one who portrayed Patecatl. The god’s image was awkward enough, but nowhere near as sketchy and slap-dash as that jaguar and eagle. The images in Rios could have been by the same artist as they are equally blurry (and sloppy). I had no choice but to completely re-envision this divine pair, of course using the original motifs and positions and improvising more naturalistic details. In particular, in my jaguar I combined the white fringes of the stylized Borgia creature with the feline’s more normal muscular proportions, and to guild the lily, I gave it one of those natural pelt-patterns. But I still wonder what those banners might signify.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Monkey trecena

In the Tonalamatl Aubin Patecatl is recognizable by his crescent nose-piece, eagle-feather fan on his back, and spiked crest of Mictlantecuhtli in his headdress. But the Xiuhcoatl he’s waving and the cross symbols on his sandals are usually suggestive of Quetzalcoatl. It’s rather odd that he has no eyes. The day-night symbol (sun-stars) is a surprise, but the jaguar and eagle are now familiar motifs, and they are both closely connected to the diurnal cycle, the jaguar with the night and the eagle with the day—possibly also their significance in the Tonalamatl Yoal.

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Monkey trecena

The patron panel in Codex Borbonicus also features a jaguar and eagle with headdresses and “bustles” a bit simpler than those in Tonalamatl Yoal. Each again carries a banner; in Aubin those were blank, and in fact, in the Yoal originals they were also blank, but I gave them these Borbonicus stripes. Logically, the jaguar’s black stripes could correlate with the night and the eagle’s red with the day, reflecting the prominent central day-night symbol.

The figure of Patecatl on the left is adorned with the same borrowed spiked crest, bows, and shinbone and is identified by the stalked flower in his headdress, crescent nosepiece, flint-bladed club in his hand, and frilled medicine-bag pendant. Meanwhile, the rest of the panel is basically a dis-integrated conglom with much miscellanea, probably representing medicinal concoctions. The little pot below the day-night symbol definitely holds magic mushrooms. On the medicinal pulque pot in the lower left is a Monkey day-sign for the Monkey trecena.

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Monkey trecena

The Codex Vaticanus patron panel reverses the Borgia layout and radically changes the figure of Patecatl, leaving only the crescent nosepiece to identify him. His pose on the throne and complete swaddling almost suggest a funereal corpse-bundle, which doesn’t make much sense. In later Vaticanus trecenas, for some reason we’ll see some deities even more severely wrapped.

Another radical aspect of this patron panel is that the figures don’t face each other. In the Borgia panel, the jaguar’s banner embodies the diurnal cycle with black stripes with a red spot, but here it’s merely black for the night. Ignoring that tongue, this jaguar is stylized much the same as in Borgia—until one looks at those claws. Most Aztec jaguars are usually portrayed with four claws, three in front and one in back, but the real jaguar paw has five digits, four claws in front and the fifth, a “dew-claw,” further up the wrist/ankle much like in this image. Only the dew-claw is supposed to be turned forward like the fourth in earlier images. This Vaticanus jaguar only has five claws on one paw, and the rest have four… As we’ve seen with the issue of pelt-patterns, naturalism wasn’t a particularly strong parameter for Aztec artists. (Remember my earlier discussion in the Jaguar trecena of “ideoplastic” art? This is a prime example.)

Now it’s time to reveal my takeaway from this long discussion of the symbols and emblems in this Monkey trecena. For one thing, in the five Aztec codex patron panels I’ve noticed nothing at all to do with the ancient Maya Creation trecena, but the continuity of Monkey symbolism from Maya down to Aztec is really noteworthy. I can’t give you any examples of monkeys from the Teotihuacan civilization, roughly contemporaneous with the Maya, but that culture used the same calendar and probably would’ve held Monkey traditions like those of the Maya.

After the long hegemony of Teotihuacan in the valley of Mexico, for more centuries, the Toltec empire continued the sacred calendar and kept Monkey connections with artists and craftsmen. The Toltecs were considered masterful painters and scribes, carvers and builders, skillful in whatever they did. Much later, the Aztecs celebrated all things historically Toltec (toltecayotl) and of course, inherited the calendar’s Monkey business. Unfortunately, the Monkey wound up losing his role in Mesoamerican cosmology as the mythical Creator—to later upstarts called Tezcatlipoca, Quetzalcoatl, and others. Across the centuries, many other Maya traditions naturally faded away or were usurped by new myths (like the Nahuatl/Aztec cosmology of the Five Suns overtaking the Maya Creation legend), making for many gaps in connections between the Maya and the Aztec eras.

The Tonalpohualli, the ceremonial count of days, I consider the principal thread of continuity running through Mesoamerican history, with roots far back into the Olmec era—and possibly even deeper into pre-history. (See my ancient blog/rant “Source of Aztec Calendar.”) As both Day and Trecena in that monumental temporal ideology, the creative, playful Monkey also became a major cultural theme, maybe not as fierce or existential, but as consistent as the jaguar and plumed serpent.

As the patron of the Monkey trecena, Patecatl is a fairly innocuous, almost anonymous, figure with vague iconography (except in Yoal), though I expect he was very highly regarded for his pharmaceutical blessings. He and his wife Mayauel (again see Grass Trecena) probably threw some wild pulque parties—which I’m sure made them both very popular deities to worship.

Judging by these five codex panels, I suggest we add the divine jaguar as the secondary patron of this trecena, either as Lord of the Animals (including Man), as the symbol of night, or both. Along with the day-night symbol in two panels, the day-eagle in three of them argues that the diurnal cycle was especially important for divination of this time-period. I prefer to think of this strikingly illustrated trecena as a ritual prayer for the good health of all creatures 24/7, or in Aztec terms 22/13.

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s twelfth trecena will be that of Lizard with the existential deity Tezcatlipoca (Smoking Mirror) and his nagual Itztlacoliuhqui (Curved Obsidian Blade) as patrons. Here’s where things start getting weird. Stay tuned.

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.

January 28, 2023

Aztec Calendar – Flint Trecena

The tenth trecena (13-day “week”) of the Aztec Tonalpohualli (ceremonial count of days) is called Flint for its first numbered day, which is also the 18^th day of the veintena (20-day “month”). In the Nahuatl language Flint is Tecpatl, and it’s known as Etz’nab’ in Yucatec Maya and Tijax (Knife-edge) in Quiché.

The day Flint portends great riches and pride but also destruction and punishment. It’s almost logically associated anatomically with the teeth. The usual day-sign (or glyph) for Flint is the sacrificial knife with a face, including teeth (fangs), and sometimes divine ornaments. The flint knife is personified (or deified) as a nagual of Tezcatlipoca, Itztlacoliuhqui,Curved Obsidian Blade, god of stone, cold, sin, and human misery, but also of objectivity and blind justice. (See vignette at top center in Icon #19, and the Blade will be met again soon as a patron of the 12^th trecena Lizard.) The day Flint’s patron is Chalchiuhtotolin, the Jade Turkey (See Icon #3), also a nagual of Tezcatlipoca and patron of the power and glory of young warriors, particularly of the famous Jaguar Warriors of the Night. He’ll be seen later as patron of the 17^th trecena Water, the “Turkey” in his name relating to the little known, brilliantly colored ocellated turkey.

PATRON DEITIES RULING THE TRECENA

A patron of the Flint trecena is Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of the Land of the Dead (Mictlan) the most prominent of several deities of death, 5^th Lord of the Night, Lord of Number Six, and patron of the day Dog. (See Icon #10.) Images in Codex Magliabechiano show that the Death Lord’s worship involved ritual cannibalism. Counter-intuitively, in the Aztec view, skulls and skeletons were symbols of fertility, health, and abundance, a sentiment still evident in the Mexican holiday Día de los Muertos. Souls of those who die normal deaths (i.e., are not ritually commended to some god’s heaven), must climb eight hills and cross nine rivers in four days to reach Mictlan, an empty place of darkness. The owl (as a symbol of sorcery and the night) and vile insects like spiders and millipedes are closely associated with Mictlan.

Another patron of the trecena is Tonatiuh, god of the current Fifth Sun (Four Earthquake), whose visage reputedly glares from the center of the Stone of the Suns. (Also see him in Icon #16 in company with the lunar goddess Metztli.) In the creation of the Fifth Sun, a young god named Nanahuatzin leapt into the cosmic conflagration to become the sun (Tonatiuh). Lord of Number Four with a Quail as his totem bird, Tonatiuh rules the idyllic Fourth Heaven for the souls of heroes, warriors killed in battle, heart-sacrifices to ensure the continuation of the sun, and those dying in childbirth. I assume that means both babies and mothers, so the five warrior spirits, the dangerous Cihuateteo, probably dwell in the Fourth Heaven as well.

AUGURIES OF FLINT TRECENA

The theme of this trecena is Sacrifice and Separation. The symbols of knife, knife-edge, and flint represent the opening energies of this period, a time-frame tending to highlight sudden change. The flint’s dramatic sharpness and flashiness can manifest itself through “shocking” events, often involving conflict or dualities between opposing forces, as reflected by the trecena’s patrons (life-sun vs death-darkness). Although separation and difference is a strong theme at this time, these energies can also be the spark to initiate new thoughts or actions.

Further to how these energies connect with world events, see the Maya Count of Days Horoscope blog at whitepuppress.ca/horoscope/. The Maya equivalent is the Etz’nab’ trecena.

THE 13 NUMBERED DAYS IN THE FLINT TRECENA

The Aztec Tonalpohualli, like the ancestral Maya calendar, is counted through the sequence of 20 named days of the agricultural “month” (veintena), of which there are 18 in the solar year. Starting with the 18^th day of the current veintena, 1 Flint, this trecena continues with 2 Rain, 3 Flower, 4 Crocodile, 5 Wind, 6 House, 7 Lizard, 8 Snake, 9 Death, 10 Deer, 11 Rabbit, 12 Water, and 13 Dog.

Again there are several important days in the Flint trecena:

One Flint (in Nahuatl Ce Tecpatl) is the ceremonial day-name of Huitzilopochtli, Hummingbird of the South, the principal god of the Aztec nation. It’s also an alternate day-name for Mixcoatl, the Cloud Serpent, a major deity of the Mixtec who retained much cultural and doctrinal independence from the imperial Aztec. For the official cult, Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca were born of the creative pair Ometeotl on other days, but for another they were born on One Flint of the celestial goddess Citlalicue, the Star Skirt, as depicted in Plate 32 of Codex Borgia. As a year-name, in the Aztecs’ deep mythology/history One Flint was the first historic year when the Mexica came into power in Tenochtitlan and thus a symbol of their imperial destiny. In that function it appears near the center on the Stone of the Suns.

Four Crocodile (in Nahuatl Nahui Cipactli) is another of Xiuhtecuhtli’s ceremonial day-names (besides One Rabbit as noted in the Snake trecena).

Five Wind (in Nahuatl Macuil Ehecatl) is the Mixtec day-name of Tlaloc.

Nine Death (in Nahuatl Chicnahui Miquitztli) I read somewhere long ago was either the day-name of Mictlantecuhtli himself or of another important Death Lord. Whichever…

Thirteen Dog (in Nahuatl Mahtlactli Ihuan Yeyi Itzcuintli) in Maya mythology as 13 Ok was associated with the birth of their Maize God Hun Hunahpu. Even after several centuries, the Aztecs probably associated the day with their own maize god Centeotl. (See the Grass trecena.)

THE TONALAMATL (BOOK OF DAYS)

TONALAMATL BALTHAZAR

When I made my version of the Flint trecena back around 1990, I didn’t know about Tonatiuh being another of its patrons and simply focused on Mictlantecuhtli. As usual in that uninformed time, I relied heavily on Codex Nuttall for image (and posture), working with regalia from various figures. At least I knew him as patron of the day Dog and invented an appropriately canine headdress. As Death Lords go, I think mine shows a good bit of skeletal glory.

TONALAMATL BORGIA (re-created by Richard Balthazar from Codex Borgia)

Aztec Calendar – Flint trecena – Tonalamatl Borgia

In this trecena, we encounter the sun-god Tonatiuh for the second time: He was the primary patron of the earlier Death trecena on the right side of the panel. There he wears vaguely different regalia and is in the classical “dancing” pose, but in both of these images his red face-paint pattern is the same. The main differences are in their pendants and the thematic flints in this one’s headdress. This one’s odd “flower” on a stalk must mean something about this trecena, and the unusual version of speech symbol (cuciatl) likely does too.

Here Tonatiuh is on the left side of the panel, but I don’t think that means he’s necessarily the “secondary” patron. Though on the right side, Mictlantecuhtli may not be really the “primary” patron. Considering the auguries of this trecena, these two deities probably share primacy, balanced as they are on the flint’s knife-edge of opposing forces.

As the only image of Mictlantecuhtli in the tonalamatl, this one is outstanding in its gruesome glory. I particularly love his medusa-like locks with stars which probably imply that he’s a Night Lord. The pointy thing in his headdress, his usual ornament, is almost irrelevant in view of his standard bare skull (with spots of rot). Besides the surreal eyes in the skull, the detail that really gives me the creeps is that long, pointy tongue! Less disturbing is the fountain of blood rising behind him. We’re all familiar with how bloodthirsty death is…

In general, the iconography of figures in Tonalamatl Borgia is superbly detailed, if often badly obscured by damage to the pages. The lower part of this page has suffered terribly; particularly the original details of Mictlantecuhtli’s jaguar throne are barely discernible. Consequently, this re-creation is improvised from the blurred confusion of splotches and lacunae. I settled on a combination of the Diaz & Rogers imagination and that in the anonymous facsimile, both of which came up with an inexplicable fat fish.

I can only guess at the fish’s significance: Maybe those other artists intended it to relate to the eerily similar stylized human heart in sacrifice scenes like that in Codex Magliabechiano, p. 133:

Heart-sacrifice Scene from Codex Magliabechiano

Viewing the area under high magnification, I can almost see the blur as a skull with gaping jaws like those of the Death Lord above, which would make sense since the Lord often sits on a skull or has one in his “bustle” (like mine above).

Such speculation aside, I won’t even guess at the meaning of the tasseled square figure and flag-like item with patterned piece that hang in front of Mictlantecuhtli. But the central scene is unmistakably a ritual sacrifice by drowning, tying right in with the trecena’s other theme of sacrifice. Both patrons watch with obvious approval of the ritual, but one wonders why.

The soul of the drowned sacrifice won’t be going either to Tonatiuh’s idyllic Fourth Heaven or to Mictlantecuhtli’s desolate Mictlan, but to the joyful Eighth Heaven of Tlaloc, Tlalocan. I suspect that the act of sacrifice itself goes to keeping the Fifth Sun up in the sky as well as to slaking the blood-thirst of Death. In this context, it’s tempting to suggest that as he’s Lord of Number Six, Mictlantecuhtli’s miserable Mictlan might actually be the Sixth Heaven, so to speak…

TONALAMATL YOAL (compiled and re-created by Richard Balthazar on the basis of
Codex Telleriano-Remensis and Codex Rios)

Aztec Calendar – Flint trecena – Tonalamatl Yoal

In Codex Telleriano-Remensis, the left-hand page of the Flint trecena with Tonatiuh is missing, so this image is based solely on the Codex Rios copy which goes wild with his divine regalia. With the major sunburst on his back as an unmistakable identifier, he lacks Borgia’s red face-paint design, likely because in the Rios image his whole body is dark red. I’ve chosen a ruddy flesh tone to avoid losing detail in monochrome darkness and have changed only the awkward length of his arms and angle of his scepter, which may be a version of the Fire Serpent.

However, the right-hand pages with Mictlantecuhtli still exist in both codices, the original and copy being almost identical in detail of regalia, skeletal limbs, and partially hidden skull beneath. But in Telleriano-Remensis, there’s a skull in his “bustle,” and in Rios (as here) it’s a dog’s head to indicate the day of which he’s patron. The circular orange items may intend marigolds, which are still considered a flower related to the Underworld.

In this Yoal image, I’ve changed the Death Lord’s ghastly brown and black visages with skeletal jaws to give him the human face of his bust above (top row, fifth from left) as Lord of the Night since they already share many details of headdress. As I’ve discussed in a blog “The Faces of Death,” this “living” face of the Night Lord is a break with the iconographic tradition of his face being almost everywhere else a skull. Another unusual detail is his blue-peaked cap—for some reason just like that of Xiuhtecuhtli in the first and tenth positions.

OTHER TONALAMATLS

Tonalamatl Aubin patron panel for Flint trecena

The patron deities in the Tonalamatl Aubin are the usual suspects—with a few differences from the preceding Flint trecenas. On the left, Tonatiuh has no throne and only a few red marks on his face, and part of the regalia on his back has been omitted, apparently for lack of space on the page. Oddly, he has only one arm… Tonatiuh now wears a recognizable pendant but has no other identifiers—except for the partial sun-symbol below. On the right, this Mictlantecuhtli also has a “living” face as well as fleshed-out limbs, and at least the pointy thing in his headdress is familiar. (I can’t imagine what the Aubin artist had in mind to make his left foot black.)

The central scene of sacrifice presents a curious variation. The victim clings to a “tree” of some ceremonial sort, apparently to eventually sink into the water and drown. I wonder why part of the “basin” was painted green and about that bundle beside it with someone’s hindquarters sticking out—quite puzzling. Even more puzzling are the two snakes, the brown living one with Tonatiuh and the clearly defunct white one under Mictlantecuhtli. But there’s no one to ask…

Codex Borbonicus patron panel for Flint trecena

The patron panel for the Flint trecena in Codex Borbonicus explicitly shows the ordeal nature of the drowning sacrifice. Here the victim clings to a smooth pole, possibly even a greased one, until sliding down into the water to provide an entertaining public spectacle. The attendant patrons “dance” in celebration of the ritual. This short-armed Mictlantecuhtli on the right has both skull and skeletal limbs, as well as a mop of dark hair with stars.

On the other hand, this Tonatiuh on the right isn’t as recognizable; his Fire Serpent scepter is no sure identifier. Rather than a sun-symbol, the semi-circular thing on his back looks more like that strange thing on Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli in the Snake trecena, but this one has an out-of-place skull on it. Even the semi-circle at top center isn’t a sun symbol, but one of the night, relating to the Night Lord Mictlantecuhtli. Apparently, the patrons are considered much less important than the central sacrifice scene.

Meanwhile, the profusion of other items in this panel suggests other considerations. Take for instance the vignette on the upper left of a person half-engulfed in some container, which harks back to the “packaged” body in the Aubin panel. When a motif appears again in separate situations, one has to assume that it has important symbolic significance—and when it’s repeated like the two blue creatures (also seen before) or the two pots of water. Those repetitive blue symbols around the pole of sacrifice surely aren’t there for gratuitous decoration, but I’m at a total loss for their meanings.

Note the little spear-bearer on the lower left. I’d bet he’s there to indicate the Flint trecena with his flint spearhead. However, I can’t explain the presence of that Venus-related scorpion over his head. It’s the same as the one with the Morning Star in the Snake panel. Has the Borbonicus artist gotten his dogmas mixed up? As a grace note, check out the little snake hovering over Tonatiuh’s head—reminiscent of that Aubin snake with him. But there’s no one to ask…

Codex Vaticanus patron panel for Flint trecena

The Codex Vaticanus patron panel for the Flint trecena is a slight rearrangement of what we saw in the Borgia panel, switching sides for the patrons but adding nothing new. The original panel was laid out with much wider spaces, squeezing off parts of Mictlantecuhtli’s regalia like what may have been another “pointy thing” in his headdress. For convenience and aesthetics, I brought the elements closer together and touched up several broken lines and blotched colors. Again, the central ritual sacrifice seems of exceeding importance, and once again the victim’s drowning is being graciously assisted. After all, his death will keep Tonatiuh turning in the sky, and Mictlantecuhtli will be happy to take his bones home to Mictlan.

This survey of the Flint trecena’s patron panels certainly corroborates Dr. Paquin’s main themes of sacrifice and separation and well illustrates canonical (if at times confused) iconography across the various codices. Stylistic differences ultimately don’t really matter all that much.

UPCOMING ATTRACTION

The calendar’s eleventh trecena will be that of Monkey, its patron being Patecatl, god of medicine as well as of intoxicants like pulque and psychedelic herbs. Stay tuned.

You can view all the calendar pages I’ve completed up to this point in the Tonalamatl gallery.