The labyrinth symbol spread across ancient Mediterranean cultures, perhaps originating from a single cultural centre1. Its etymology, though clouded by the mixture of myth and reality, legend and history, provides some possible clues to its origins. The Greek term labýrinthos (λαβύρινθος2) may derive from Labrys, a double-bladed axe of antiquity, characteristic of Minoan civilisation. It was a very distinctive weapon, associated with King Minos of Crete and thus imbued with mythical and symbolic power. By extension, the term “labyrinth” also came to refer to the majestic palace of Knossos, the sovereign’s residence, a sacred centre and the administrative seat of his government. In antiquity, the building was already famous for its countless rooms, accessible through a long and intricate network of passages. The earliest depictions of the symbol date back to the Mycenaean period.
The labyrinth was a place of bewilderment, but this did not depend on making wrong choices, but rather on the inherent difficulty of the path. Representations of the symbol in ancient times were always unicursal, with an obligatory path, without forks or dead ends. The path led to a figurative and especially metaphorical center, a final goal that once reached allowed one only to retrace their steps. The philosopher Plato used the image of the labyrinth as an analogy of an inconclusive discourse that always leads to the same point3. It was only in the Roman imperial age, particularly in the works of Pliny, that the Palace of Knossos and the labyrinth become a metaphor for an uncertain and complicated path “which encloses circuitous passages, windings, and inextricable galleries”4.
The myth of the Minotaur
Myth, which in its depths of meaning always contains elements of truth, relates the symbol to King Minos of Crete. Legend says that on the Mediterranean island, within an inextricable labyrinth, a frightening monster called the Minotaur was locked up5. King Minos imprisoned the beast, so he could do no harm to the inhabitants of Crete. But also, and more importantly, for another reason: it was the impure result of his wife’s betrayal.
How had such a misfortune befallen the king of Crete? Poseidon had given him a mighty white bull to enable him to demonstrate his royal power to his subjects. The sea god wanted the sacrifice of the animal in his honor. However, Minos, estimating it to be of great value, had another one killed. Poseidon’s revenge was immediate and terrible. The queen of Crete, Pasiphae, fell in love with the beast. From their union, the Minotaur was born, a monster half man and half bull.
Theseus and the labyrinth of Daedalus
When the Minotaur grew up, Minos locked him in a labyrinth built by Daedalus, so he could not harm anyone. In fact, the monster was dominated by the bestiality of being an animal and was always hungry. Minos defeated Athens in battle. Hence, he ordered the city to send seven boys and seven girls every nine years to feed the Minotaur.
Prince Theseus then decided to travel to Crete to slay the Minotaur and free his people. As destiny would have it, Minos’s daughter, Ariadne, fell in love with him. Worried for her beloved’s fate, the young woman revealed to him an ingenious plan for entering the labyrinth and finding his way out. Ariadne gave Theseus a ball of thread, which he unravelled as he went, allowing him to retrace his steps. Thus, after defeating the Minotaur, the prince could return to Athens victorious.
The spread of the labyrinth over the centuries
Beyond the myth, the spread of the labyrinth throughout the known world is due to its archetypal nature, which is common to many different cultures. Archaeologists have discovered unicursal patterns, for example, in many rocks in Galicia (2nd – 1st millennium B.C.)6, in a domus de janas in pre-Nuragic Sardinia7, in Naquane among the petroglyphs of Val Camonica (8th – 6th century B.C.)8, on an Etruscan oinochoe from Tragliatella near Cerveteri (7th century B.C.)9.
The Romans used it mainly in the decoration of floor mosaics, which is why it was hypothesised that the symbol arrived in Rome as an ornamental motif on carpets in the Hellenistic age11. Already in the House of the Labyrinth in Pompeii (VI 11, 8-10), dating back to the 2nd century B.C., an extraordinary mosaic depicting a labyrinth covered the floor of the cubiculum. The labyrinth is divided into four sections. It features a central scene depicting the struggle between Theseus and the Minotaur.
The Christian labyrinth
In the early centuries of Christianity, the symbolic meaning of the labyrinth was reinterpreted as a metaphor for man’s inner journey towards conversion. In continuity with the Roman tradition, the labyrinth could thus be used as a floor ornament in early Christian churches. An example is the 4th century Algerian basilica of Saint Reparata in Orleansville.
During the Middle Ages, the symbol spread along pilgrimage and prayer routes. In Italy, we have several examples at the main stops along the Via Francigena and the Via Micaelica. The circular artefacts in the Cathedral of San Martino in Lucca, San Michele Maggiore in Pavia, Pontremoli and Alatri are worth mentioning. Another example, now lost, was in the basilica of San Savino in Piacenza.
The labyrinth, a metaphor of the way to Jerusalem
The medieval depiction of the labyrinth had a dual significance. For pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem, it was first and foremost a symbol of the long journey ahead. Like its ancient counterpart, the medieval labyrinth was a single-path labyrinth. Thus, the traveller could not change course, and the holy destination was inevitable. On the other hand, Jerusalem was occupied by the Saracens. The myth of the battle between Theseus and the Minotaur served as a figurative representation of the struggle against the enemy. In the chancel of San Michele Maggiore in Pavia, at the centre of a circular labyrinth, once stood a mosaic with the prince of Athens slaying the monster of Knossos. In Lucca, on one of the pillars of the portico in front of the Cathedral of San Martino, next to a labyrinth carved into the stone, the words appear:
“HIC QUEM CRETICUS EDIT DEDALUS EST LABERINTHUS DEQ(U)O NULLUS VADERE QUIVIT QUI FUIT INTUS NI THESEUS GRATIS ADRIANE STAMINE IUTUS”
“This is the labyrinth built by Daedalus of Crete, from which no one who had entered it could get out, except Theseus thanks to Ariadne’s thread”.
The spiritual labyrinth
In addition to its material significance, the symbol also represented the believer’s spiritual journey towards the heavenly Jerusalem. The pilgrimage to the Holy Land was, above all, a journey of conversion. It was characterised by uncertainty and the renunciation of worldly desires. The unicursal labyrinth was thus a representation of the only path to salvation: following Christ. Indeed, he had proclaimed:
“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me”.
Gospel of John 14, 6
It is fascinating that in Medieval representations the symbol is associated both with the figure of a monster generated by the sin of infidelity, the Minotaur, or with the Messiah, as in the great Christ in the labyrinth of Alatri. This antithetical duality of subjects well expresses the mentality of the Medieval religious man. Christians were, in fact, called upon to choose whether to allow themselves to be dominated by sin and animalistic bestiality, like the monster of Knossos, or rather to follow the path to salvation shown by Christ.
Samuele Corrente Naso
Notes
- H. Kern, Through the Labyrinth. Designs and Meanings over 5000 Years, Prestel, London, 2000. ↩︎
- The term is found in some Mycenaean Crete tablets from the Palace of Knossos, including KN Gg 702. ↩︎
- Plato, Euthydemus, 291b-c: “involved in a labyrinth (λαβύρινθος): when we supposed we had arrived at the end, we twisted about again, and found ourselves practically at the beginning of our search, and just as sorely in want as when we first started on it”. Translation by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1967. ↩︎
- Pliny the Elder, Naturalis historia, XXXVI. Translation by John Bostock, M.D., F.R.S. H.T. Riley, Esq., B.A. London. Taylor and Francis, Red Lion Court, Fleet Street. 1855. ↩︎
- Publius Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses, book VIII. ↩︎
- G. Sarullo, Iconografia del labirinto. Origine e diffusione di un simbolo tra passato e futuro, Tra Passato e Futuro, 2017. ↩︎
- Ibidem. ↩︎
- In rock 1 of the Parco Nazionale delle incisioni rupestri di Naquane in Capo di Ponte. ↩︎
- M. Menichetti, L’oinochoe di Tragliatella. Mito e rito tra Grecia ed Etruria, Ostraka 1,1,1992. ↩︎
- By Luca Giarelli – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, image. ↩︎
- G. L. Grassigli, Il labirinto nei mosaici romani di età repubblicana e primoimperiale in Italia. Alcune riconsiderazioni, LANX 29, Studi di amici e colleghi per Maria Teresa Grassi, 2021. ↩︎
