Dionysius’s Priestess

Georgi Georgiev, 05 Sept. 2007

„In vino veritas” – cheers and let’s drink
Because real wine makes us not think
Of anxiety, concerns and gnawing grief
Because wine makes hearts happily relieved

Most of us should know that the first people, who used to live on the lands of Bulgaria, were the Thracians. Not many know though, that the God of Wine – Dionysius, together with his suite of Bacchans and satyrs have jeweled the Greek-Roman Pantheon, due namely to the Thracians. Along with the cults and the rituals in the name of the merry God, they have also left in history, the memory of the thick Thracian wine. Thousands of years before the Godlike drink came to France, Italy and Spain, the antique authors described the unique taste of the Thracian elixir. According to some descriptions it even had to be watered dawn in proportion 1 to 20 and was still so strong and thick that it was impossible for real wine lovers to stop tasting it from the goblet.

Homer’s “Iliad” tells of how ships brought barrels of wine every day in the Thracian camp, which was situated outside the walls of Troy. This was happening during the 10th Century BC, when the Thracians were in their most powerful and productive years. Some other sources from those times, say that the proud and bold Thracian was ready to deprive himself of his home rather than of his sword and goblet. Naturally the Thracians were often blamed by the Greeks for their excessive drinking of wine and their Bohemian behavior during the holidays, devoted to Dionysus. But it was exactly the Greek, who later on indulged in those holidays, while the Romans even turned them into orgies.

In that beautiful ancient world the wine was not consumed in order to get drunk or to get pleasure by drinking it. It was a portal to Gods, a way for people to unite with the Gods. The Europe best wine then was produced by the Thracian people and the god of the wine was Dionysius himself. He was cheerfully wandering with his suite and was teaching people how to look after their grape and prepare their wine.
Today Dionysius and the Thracians have left us numbers of treasures, but undoubtedly the most precious of them are the red wine sorts Pamid, Mavroud, Cherven Misket, Dimyat, Gymza and Shiroka Melnishka. As a proof, the last sort was so well-known and favorite to the British president Churchill that he used to order 500 liters of wine every year.

This is our heritage from the Thracians, and what has Dionysius left to us, we can find out only if we take a sip from the aromatic Bulgarian wine. According to the researches, the origin of the wine comes somewhere from Asia Minor. Exactly there, according to the legends Dionysius headed for his divine march. And there every sip of wine hides legends old as the world, and as old as the wine itself.

When Dionysius was reborn from Zeus his father’s thigh, all Gods loved it, because he was beautiful and cheerful. Only the jealous wife of Zeus, Hera, hated Dionysius, because he was fruit of one of the numerous love lusts of her husband. When he grew up, his cheerful character attracted the maenads (vaghans) and satyrs, famous for their slack in moral. Until then everyone revolted them, because of their bad reputation, but their life philosophy attracted Dionysius and he took them under his wind. The young God soon got bored from the advice of his wise teacher Silen and he headed, together with his suite along the wide world. In the very beginning he reached a beautiful town the marvelous gardens. The ruler in this town had a wife, famous for her heavenly beauty. Once the frivolous Dionysius heard about her, he wanted to seduce her. That is why he accommodated himself and his suite in the garden, where the young ruler walked every morning. Ever since the first day, when the sun shined the land, she emerged from between the colourful brunches – the most gorgeous mortal woman, he had ever seen.

He felt something more than carnal desire, and decided, that in the beginning of his earth campaign, he will turn this woman into his major priestess. It wasn’t hard for him to persuade the young queen to follow him. Her husband was old and she herself was still in her youth years and followed the philosophy of the vakhans. Her thick dark red hair, her slender body and her penetrating sight hinted that wild blood is floating in her veins – blood that was thirsty for life, full of lust and pleasures. The young woman accepted the hand of the radiant God. Once he emerged in the garden, the sun somehow became brighter and the old ruler woke up. But all he saw was how his unfaithful wife disappeared, embraced by unearthly handsome, charming young man. The king knew that his wife was enchanted by a God and wa powerless before his authority.

Thus Dionysius loitered around the world with his cheerful suite and lovely priestess, devoted to fun, frivolity and depravity. Wherever he passed his presence brought chaos. The people, as if enchanted, were leaving their work and devoting themselves to never-ending gaiety. The cheerful God was extremely happy with his priestess, but the jealous Hera was preparing her revenge. Once, Dionysius happened to sleep in the town, which was ruled by the brother of the deceived husband. And the husband himself was there. Hera appeared in his dream and told him where to find Dionysius and his priestess. The mortal king was helpless before the God, but he could punish his unfaithful wife with death. On the next day the king with unexpected strengths headed towards the nearby grove, where Dionysius feasted. Between the brunches of the trees he saw the interweaved bodies of the young vakhans and the mad satyrs, and right next to them Dionysius and his priestess were roaming above the earth, laughing and feeding each other with fruits.

The head of the king was filled with blood; he rushed towards the couple in love and pierced his wife with a dagger. The rage of the young God was frightful. He turned the jealous king into a stone and embraced the dying priestess. He didn’t have the power to give her life, but wanted to immortalize her. That is why he wished to turn her into a plant, while she is still alive - a plant, which will be as blazing and passionate as her, and the juice of her fruits to inspire such gaiety and freshness, as emitted by their spontaneous love. And while she was dying, the priestess turned into a trellised vine. Her body wrapped around the crying Dionysius and her hands were hugging him, while they turned into tiny sprouts.
Hours passed, before the God realized that he is hugging just a plant, which have grown dark red grapes. He got up and plucked the grapes. They tasted just like the lips of his priestess and their colour was like her hairs. Dionysius squeezed the juice of the fruits in a large utensil, left it aside and ordered mourning in honour of the death priestess.

Weeks passed before the God postponed the mourning. When he left, the company drank the grapes juice. It was ferment and floated through their veins. Not long ago they felt the unearthly intoxication and rendered to unseen gaiety, as if the priestess was revived again. Once they sobered down they started ahead, and Dionysius picked up the vine sprout and took them with him along the world, to teach people grow vines and to make wine, and his priestess to stay forever alive. That is why today, when we drink wine, we take a sip from the love of the God and the lovely priestess and we drink from her tempestuous blood. That is why we are seized by this playful and cheerful mood, which we always want to share with close relatives, friends and the loved ones.

Cheers!