The Sun rises above the Pyramid of the Sun. Credit: Sharron McClellan (Flickr, CC BY-NC 2.0)
Throughout human history, the Sun has been a major constant in daily life. As this brilliant sphere shines in the sky, it sustains life, provides harmonious rhythms to our world, and marks the continuous passage of time. It is no wonder that inquiring minds have always sought to explain both the origins of the Sun and our relationship with it, whether through narratives of myth or modern science.
Today we know that the Sun, formed about 4.6 billion years ago, is composed mainly of hydrogen and helium and is powered by nuclear fusion. We also know that the Sun’s energy allows plants to convert carbon dioxide and water into glucose (sugar) and oxygen through photosynthesis, the latter of which supports nearly all modern life on Earth. And we know that at some point, in about 5 billion years, our Sun will run out of fuel. It will expand into a red giant, shed its outer layers and leave behind a dense core called a white dwarf.
This is part of our modern scientific cosmology, our understanding of the origin, function and future of the universe.
But long before we began to unravel the mysteries of nuclear fusion, humans developed complex, layered stories about the Sun, not simply to explain it, but to convey deeper truths about the nature of existence. These myths are often dismissed as fanciful fictions from a prescientific age. However, a myth is not simply a false story. In most cases, myths were never intended to convey history as we define it today, but rather to teach us something about our place in the world and to help guide our behavior as we navigate it.
Thus, by looking at the solar cosmologies of the Norse (Scandinavia), the Mongols (Inner Asia), and the Aztecs (central Mexico), we can not only discover how these societies explained what the Sun was and how it came into existence, but how they saw whether themselves and all human beings in relation to the universe itself.
Destructive impulses
In Norse mythology, the Sun was created by the gods with sparks from Muspellheim, the kingdom of fire, to illuminate the world. Every day, the Sun – personified in the female figure Sól – is dragged across the sky on a chariot pulled by two horses. Sól’s daily movement is spurred by the relentless pursuit of the wolf Sköll. When Ragnarök – a catastrophic event in which the current era of history comes to an end – occurs, the wolf will finally capture and devour Sól, plunging everything into darkness. But not all will be lost, for Sól’s daughter will eventually replace her mother and rise to illuminate the world, ushering in a new cosmic era.
This myth captures several important aspects of the Norse worldview, namely that life is a constant battle against the destructive and chaotic forces of the universe. We are all, in some sense, metaphorically pursued like Sól by the forces of a natural world that could easily destroy us. Like us, the cosmos itself is fragile, and the Sun’s journey across the sky represents the precarious balance between light and darkness, hope and despair, death and rebirth.
Heavenly balance
While the Norse told of a single Sun born from the realm of fire, Mongolian solar myths recall a time when seven suns burned brightly in the sky. The heat from these suns was so intense that it burned the land, and as crops withered, streams dried up, and humans and animals began to die. To save themselves, the people turned to a talented young archer named Erkhii Mergen, asking him to shoot down the suns with his arrows. He accepted, destroying six, only to have his seventh and final arrow deflected by a swallow flying into his path. The last remaining Sun, frightened after seeing his brothers struck down, now spends part of his day hiding, hoping to avoid a similar fate.
The Mongolian worldview emphasized maintaining balance and harmony, while protecting oneself from the dangers of excess. Erkhii Mergen saved humanity by destroying the extra suns, but in his arrogance he got carried away and almost destroyed the final one as well. The swallow’s timely intervention shows how the cosmos, humanity, and the natural world remain intimately connected and interdependent.
Blood debts
Like the Mongols, Aztec solar cosmologies focus on interdependence, but task humans with playing a more active role in sustaining cosmic order – particularly the movement of the Sun – through sacrificial offerings. According to Aztec myths we are in the fifth solar era, following the destruction of the four previous suns.
And like the Norse, the Aztecs believed that the Sun was chased across the sky, in this case by Tezcatlipoca, the god of the night sky, conflict and chaos. The progression of the Sun was fueled by the combustion of a vital energy called teyoliawhich had to be replenished, otherwise it would be captured and consumed by Tezcatlipoca. Fortunately, teyolia also supports human life and flows in our blood. By offering blood to the Sun through ritual bloodletting and human sacrifice, humans were able to provide the energy needed to continue to outrun Tezcatlipoca and, therefore, continue to exist.
Here, humans are essential to the cosmic order rather than at its mercy. We are given life through teyolia, but that gift carries with it a debt that we must repay. Therefore, in Aztec cosmology, humans are not passive recipients of the universe’s gifts, but active participants in maintaining cosmic order.
These three solar cosmologies, from the apocalyptic battles of the Norse to the delicate balance of the Mongols and the blood debt of the Aztecs, highlight humanity’s diverse understanding of the Sun’s role in our world. While modern science provides detailed physical explanations of the Sun, these myths offer timeless philosophical reflections on human nature, our place in the universe, and the eternal struggle between order and chaos.
