The Miniature Frieze of Thera: The Transubstantiation of Religious Beliefs in Architectural Design

According to this myth, the Athenians owed a blood tribute to Minos, and every nine years sent a mission of youths to contend with the Minotaur, who dwelt in the Labyrinth. In order to discharge this traditional tribute, the άρχηγέτης of the Mycenaean Athenians, Aegeus, included his son and heir, Theseus, in the mission. Minos's daughter, Ariadne, fell in love with Theseus and secretly gave him the 'clew', which helped him and his companions to find their way out of the Labyrinth, after he had managed to slay the Minotaur. As a result, on their triumphant return to their homeland, Theseus and his companions were to hoist the 'white sail', instead of the black sail of mourning.

All these comparisons lead us to certain conclusions, some of which are examined here. We consider that the wall paintings in Rooms 4 and 5 of the West House (Figs. 1-7, Pls. 1-3) were executed on the pretext of the coming to manhood of two of its young occupants, and that the iconographic programme dictated the tripartite vertical division of space. The fragmented walls of Room 5 could be the stage on which the actual events narrated in its uppermost zone (the miniature frieze) are symbolically enacted, with the south-east corner, where the entrance from Room 4 to 5 is located, as a crucial node. This is where the mysterious river (cf. the concept of the clew) ends, precisely above the head of the so-called priestess (cf. Ariadne), who is right outside the fragmented space of Room 5, locus of the rituals (cf. the Labyrinth), facing in the same direction as the river and in an attitude of offering (cf. Ariadne's clew). Inside the room are the two youths (cf. initiates), above whose heads a long narration, the miniature frieze, unfolds (the final stage of initiation). It is from the aforementioned crucial node that the now splendid course of return commences, as is magnificently illustrated in the south frieze, with the 'white sailed' Peleiad bearing the joyful message (cf. passage to manhood), and the young men of Akrotiri, calm and dressed in their long (cf. ritual) tunics, displaying their symbolic booty hung on the boats. We believe that the orchestration of so many elements, drawn together and interwoven, is a strong indication of their correlation.

In our opinion, the architectural articulation of the rooms, as well as the placement and inter-relationship of the wall-paintings, constitute a happy moment in architectural creation. And this because in all periods the transfer of the theoretical concept to architectural design is achieved only in phases of great inspiration. Furthermore, the labyrinthine Minoan architecture with its fragmented architectural elements and space (pier-and-door partitions (polythyra) and multiple windows (polyparathyra), internal courts and semi-outdoor areas) seems to have succeeded in positively transubstantiating theoretical religious belief into practical architectural design.

This paper is a continuation of two previous ones, entitled 'The Thera volcano and Homer' (Sali-Axioti 1992a) and 'The miniature frieze of Thera and Homer' (Sali-Axioti 1992b), and is part of a wider ongoing study aimed at locating evidence relevant to prehistoric Thera and its civilisation in ancient Greek texts.

In the course of studying architectural terms encountered in the Mycenaean texts (Sali-Axioti 1989), the Homeric epics (Sali-Axioti 1992a; 1992b) and ancient Greek literature in general (Sali-Axioti 1996), while at the same time bearing the wall paintings of Thera in mind, we ascertained certain similarities between what 'is narrated' in the texts and what the unknown painter of the Thera miniature frieze 'narrates' in this painting (Figs. 1-2).⁽¹⁾ Our initial hesitation about presenting these observations, given the great time lapse separating the wall paintings from the Homeric epics, has been allayed by advances made in research on Homeric issues (see the earlier and recent bibliography in Probonas 1990, 16-17). These tend to legitimise such a correlation, given the scholarly consensus that "the Homeric epics are the outcome of a long poetic tradition" (see Probonas 1980, 19 with bibliography; cf. Probonas 1989, 27-28). Here it is pertinent to note Hiller's view on the existence of 'Minoan poetry' (Hiller 1990; see also Sakellariou 1981), a view to which I subscribe. Equally apposite is Renfrew's question, posed in the discussion which followed Hiller's paper at the Third International Congress on Thera and the Aegean world: "Why Minoan and not Cycladic [poetry]?" We would take it one step further and add that it is not just a question of Minoan or Cycladic: the substrate apparent in Homer, and in Greek mythology in general, is unequivocally Aegean. This view is also supported by the archaeological evidence: we should not forget the Cycladic figurine of a male harpist, belonging to the third millennium BC.

lt is now commonly accepted that the Homeric epics, which were composed in the eighth century BC, are a repository not only of linguistic but also of cultural elements reaching back at least as far as the early Mycenaean period (see Nilsson 1979, 1, 20, 32; Page 1959; Severyns 1960, 76; Lesky 1983, 31-48; Marinatos 1974, 30). This is a result of the way in which epic was created by means of logotypes or formulae (Lesky 1983, 67-80, 91-97, 105-114; Nilsson 1979, 30). In other words, Homer drew abundant linguistic as well as thematic elements from contemporary folk lays, many of which were composed in days of yore and reached him through oral tradition. lt is thus quite legitimate for us to correlate elements in the Homeric epics with the findings of archaeological research (Nilsson 1979, 22; Severyns 1960, 75). Such correlations have indeed been attempted for Thera (Gallavotti 1974, 21-23; Sali-Axioti 1992a, 3; Morris 1989 with bibliography). Moreover, Nestor's cup (δέπας περικαλλές) (Nilsson 1979, 22), or Ajax's shield (ήύτε πύργον) (see Probonas 1990, 19-20), or Meriones's boar's-tusk helmet (see Probonas 1990, 19), described by Homer, are not objects ofthe eighth century BC, but of the early Mycenaean period. The latter two are in fact also depicted in the miniature frieze. Another characteristic element are the boarding pikes (ξυστά ναύμαχα); in Iliad xv.388 Homer narrates that the Achaeans "... fought therefrom [from their black ships] with long pikes that lay at hand for them upon the ships ...".⁽²⁾ These are also depicted in the miniature frieze in the form of the long pikes stored above the heads of the passengers on the ships of the fleet.

In this paper we turn our attention to Greek mythology in our endeavour to correlate elements in the mural decoration of the West House (Figs. 1-7, Pls. 1-3) with elements embodied in the myths.

We shall thus endeavour to unravel Ariadne's clew in the miniature frieze. We begin, however, at the end, in the south frieze, since we agree with the view that this "constitutes the last chapter in the story" (Doumas 1992, 48). The south frieze begins directly above the head of the so-called 'Young Priestess', and its subject is the return of the "magnificent fleet" (Marinatos 1974, 35) from a "long and dangerous expedition" (Doumas 1992, 49) (Fig. 1). We observe that the focal point of the composition is "the only sailing ship in the fleet" (Marinatos 1974, 41) with its white sail unfurled (Pl.3). Marinatos dubbed this vessel 'Peleiad', on account of its decoration with flying cushats or doves (πέλεια)which "emphasize the fact that this craft is the swift messenger ship of the fleet" (Doumas 1992, 48).

The entire representation reminds us immediately of one of the most familiar episodes in Greek mythology. Indeed we wonder whether this scene is not a reflection of an event in the myth of Theseus and Ariadne. We learn from the relevant texts that "...if Theseus should overcome the Minotaur, they should sail back with their sails white..." (Diodorus Siculus iv. 61.2-5)⁽³⁾; "...that he made this a token of their safety..." (Plutarch, Theseus xvii 3)⁽⁴⁾; "...if he returned alive, to spread white sails on the ship..." (Apollodorus, Epitome i.6-9)⁽⁵⁾; if he "master the Minotaur...to hoist the white sail, but otherwise to sail with the black one, and so indicate the affliction" (Plutarch, Theseus xvii 3)⁽⁶⁾.⁽⁷⁾

In the miniature frieze one further detail completes the picture: "A small rowing boat in front of Town IV, with five oarsmen and a helmsman, seems to be carrying an important person, whose head projects above the throne-like structure on the stern (Pl. 3). Perhaps it is a local dignitary who is accompanying the departing fleet..." (Doumas 1992, 49). We recall here what Philochoros related: "Minos also was delighted with him...and therefore gave back the youths to Theseus...There was, he says, a general Hellenic decree that no trireme should sail from any port with a larger crew than five men..." (Plutarch, Theseus xix)⁽⁸⁾.

Let us see what other elements which corroborate this viewpoint occur in the assemblage of wall paintings in Rooms 5 and 4 of the West House (Fig. 1). It has been said that "This room [5] is unusual in that there are openings on all four walls...which dictated the programme of its decoration...The representations of the Fishermen and the so-called Priestess belonged to the middle zone...while the upper zone was covered by the Miniature Frieze" (Doumas 1992, 46), and, moreover, that "the presence of the priestess too suggests that we perhaps have a special ceremony..." (Marinatos 1974, 27).

We could turn this round and ask: Could what we see as a tripartite division of the space have been dictated by the iconographic programme? Could the middle zone with the openings in the walls (for no apparent reason) be a simulacrum of the mythical Labyrinth and what took place within it (Fig. 2)? Could it be the stage for the symbolic unfolding of the actual events of the final stage of initiation, the coming to manhood of the 'kouroi-fishermen' (Marinatos 1974, 26), which are also recounted in the uppermost zone, in the miniature frieze? The rhythmical alternation of light and darkness, fullness and emptiness, recesses and projections constitutes a superb form of symbolism, "...being an imitation of the circling passages in the Labyrinth, and consisting of certain rhythmic involutions and evolutions" (Plutarch, Theseus xxi)⁽⁹⁾. In addition, "Philochorus says ...that the Labyrinth was a dungeon, with no other inconvenience..." (Plutarch, Theseus xvi)⁽¹⁰⁾, "for Minos was always abused and reviled in the Attic theatres..." (Plutarch, Theseus xvi)⁽¹¹⁾.

Could it be that what took place in the symbolic labyrinth constituted some kind of initiation 'etiquette' established by "Minos...king and lawgiver"  (Plutarch, Theseus xvi)⁽¹²⁾? The nudity (Marinatos 1974, 20; Sapouna-Sakellaraki 1981, 503) and the shaven hair (Marinatos 1974, 28) of the young men (ήίθεοι)(Plutarch, Theseus xxi), the attire of the so-called Priestess, as well as her presence right outside the symbolic labyrinth in which the 'initiates' are present (Doumas 1992, 46 and 24), watching the rites in an attitude of making an offering to them, are certainly suggestive (Fig. 1). Here too the texts are eloquent: "since it was the custom in Crete for women to view the games, Ariadne was present" (Plutarch, Theseus xix)⁽¹³⁾; "...most historians and poets tell us [i.e. it was a common theme] that he got from Ariadne...the famous thread, and that having been instructed by her how to make his way through the intricacies of the Labyrinth..." (Plutarch, Theseus xix)⁽¹⁴⁾, "...she gave Theseus a clue...And having found the Minotaur in the last part of the labyrinth, he killed him by smiting him with his fists..." (Apollodorus, Epitome i.6-9 and 9-11)⁽¹⁵⁾ (cf. the Boxing Boys).

Here we wish to make it absolutely clear that we do not claim that the West House was a ceremonial building. Quite the contrary: it seems to have belonged to distinguished owners, affluent enough to honour, in a manner befitting the social mores of the time, a highpoint in their lives, namely the passage to 'manhood' of their two young sons. The West House is an imposing, detached building (not 'terraced' like the other buildings with the exception of the Xestes) in a conspicuous position, and the social status of its occupants was undoubtedly analogous. Our enquiries focus on trying to detect what kind of occupants these were. In this attempt, it would be erroneous to project today's social structures onto other times and places, such as LC Akrotiri. Do we know for certain that the basic unit of society at Akrotiri was the family? It could have been the lineage or some kind of aristocracy (plutocracy?), or more possibly a powerful 'guild'. Here we should not forget the inexplicable plethora of loomweights recovered from this building. Furthermore, the relationship of that society to the divine was in all probability completely different from what it is in the west today, where different functions are distinguished and apportioned to different sectors (economic, religious etc.). Then, things might have been simpler, not so clear cut, in a society organised in a different way. The divine might have imbued everyday life with all its manifestations, without causing malfunctions or other problems in day-to-day life, as would happen in today's complex society. Examples of such societies exist in the civilised world even now, for example in the south-eastern Mediterranean, in Muslim countries, etc..

After the in medias res introduction to our proposal, we now take hold of the 'clew' to the story from the beginning.

As C.A. Televantou has convincingly demonstrated, the miniature frieze ran around all four walls of Room 5 (Televantou 1990, 47), and "the subjects depicted on each wall are episodes in the same story" (Doumas 1992, 20). It seems, moreover, that "the harbours illustrated...are not figments of the artist's imagination; they are actual places" (Doumas 1992, 27), that "the narrative evidently begins and ends at the southwest corner of the room" (Doumas 1992, 47), and that "Town I could be identified as Akrotiri itself (which has already been identified as Town V), the harbour from which the fleet set sail" (Doumas 1992, 47) (Fig. 3).

Visible in what remains of Town I are some buildings with a characteristic triangular protuberance on the roof (Fig. 5). This could easily symbolise a single horn. Exactly the same motif appears on the structures in the left part of Town V, in a precipitous landscape outside the town, in which only nude young men wander (Pl. 3). These structures seem to be associated with young men depicted in the rest of the West House miniature frieze. Virtually the same is observed in the environment of the corresponding structure (with triangular protuberances) in Town II (Pl. 1; cf. sealings from Zakros and Chania, Fig. 6) (Televantou 1994, fig. 60), and indeed in a dramatic phase of events.

Here we ask: Could it be that in some ancient era, of which Akrotiri was already an echo (and the acts now transformed into mere ritual), young men came to manhood through real fire? Could it be that the young men of Town II failed to return as victors (from the phases of the rites of passage), thus placing their town in danger from besiegers for want of strong defenders (Pl. 1)? Could it be that the young men of Akrotiri, calm and dressed in their ritual tunics, acquired of right, return as victors and trophy bearers, displaying their symbolic booty (boar's-tusk helmets and long spears), with the Peleiad as harbinger of the joyous message (Pl. 3)? Could it be that the young men of Akrotiri, our 'kouroifishermen' among them, enter the harbour of their town as mature men, sailing alongside their dwellings with the single horn motif (Town I from another visual angle), whence they had set off on the "long and dangerous" expedition (Doumas 1992, 49) (Fig. 3)? Could it be, therefore, that the buildings with the single horn motif are dwellings in which the young men are isolated before entering the final stage of initiation?

Again we have recourse to the ancient sources, which tell us that "Minos...laying down the laws for your cities" (Plato, Laws i 624b), "your civic organisation is that of an army not inside the town and you keep your young people massed together like a herd of colts at grass..." (Plato, Laws ii 666e)⁽¹⁶⁾. Furthermore, we learn that "On his voyage from Crete, Theseus put in at Delos, and having sacrificed to the god...danced with his youths a dance...being an imitation of the circling passages in the Labyrinth and consisting of certain rhythmic involutions and evolutions. This kind of dance, as Dicaearchus tells us, is called by the Delians The Crane, and Theseus danced it round the altar called Keraton, which is constructed of horns (κέρατα) taken entirely from the left side of the head" (Plutarch, Theseus xxi)⁽¹⁷⁾.

As we see, only left horns, that is single horns (κέρατα), were used to construct the keraton, the altar of the youths (cf. the single horn motif in the structures outside the town with the naked young men in the miniature frieze: Pl. 3, cf. Pl. 1, Figs. 5-6).

As far as the archaeological evidence is concerned, two features are worthy of note. 1) we should recall that in Room 3b on the ground floor of Xeste 3, "four male figures were depicted participating in some kind of ritual... The interpretation proposed for the scene of the 'Naked Boys' is that it depicts an initiation rite, during which at least one of the actors will achieve manhood..." (Doumas 1992, 130). Could it be in Room 3b, with its otherwise unexplained mudbrick partitions and crooked (σκολιές) corridors, that the final paragraph in the whole rite was written, now inside the town of Akrotiri (cf. the 'skolion' of Hybrias the Cretan)? 2) As we said, in the south frieze, visible on a shore with steep cliffsbeyond Town V (Akrotiri), is a walled installation with the characteristic single horn motif. It is clear that this installation, as well as a second smaller harbour, are some distance from the main town and the larger harbour respectively, because there are mountains and valleys between them (cf. Shaw 1990, 431) (Fig. 8). Therefore, bearing in mind what Plato and Aristotle wrote concerning the organisation of Minoan society, we propose the following interpretation.

Embryonic in Aegean societies at that time were the institutions which later formed the basis of the Dorian type of society. The 'citizens' passed through various stages of initiation until they entered the society of 'mature men'. Certainly in the final stage of initiation (and very possibly also in the intermediate stages) the age sets were divided and lived in separate lodgings (cf. Willetts 1955, 18-20). We may thus speculate that the installations outside the town, with the single horn, were lodgings for the young men of Town V (Akrotiri) who had not yet entered the society of 'mature men'. We await the archaeological evidence to confirm this, adding to the puzzle of the archaeological site at Akrotiri a second small harbour (belonging to the young men's lodgings) to the left of the main port, as well as a developed installation (of different type from the main town, and adapted to the purpose referred to above) right beside the second harbour.

We do not in any way maintain that the events enacted in the miniature frieze represent a real journey and initiation process which took place in the period of Akrotiri. Most probably they constitute an epic narration, which provided the theme for the wall paintings. These probably depict an actual process in the past which, by the LC period, had become a symbolic reflection of beliefs rooted in earlier, real events. We also consider this narration perhaps to have been condensed in rituals such as those celebrated in the ground floor area 3b of Xeste 3. And who, we wonder, did Plato, Aristotle and Plutarch have in mind when, in addressing their contemporaries, they spoke so emphatically and consistently about Minos or Rhadamanthys? Surely not some fantastic beings unknown to their contemporaries: for remember, we are not speaking about minor writers, but about Plato and Aristotle, the towering intellectuals of the ancient Greek world, who would not have concerned themselves so persistently and extensively with trifling myths or the fanciful imaginings of others.

The references of these two writers are quite specific, and concern Minos's Crete and the organisation of that particular society, which they describe in detail and comment on prolifically, as also on its relations with its Aegean neighbours. Moreover, both of them ascribed the same very specific characteristics to that society,completely homogeneously and with full awareness of whom they were speaking. It goes without saying that, for Crete and the Aegean, the only glorious age we know of - the only age which could give rise to myths - is the Minoan age. In any case, our myth itself leads us to this age, since it is the άρχηγέτης of very early Mycenaean times, Aegeus, who sent tribute to Minos. Consequently, we consider that what has been discussed above constitutes a quite secure base for our contentions.

Our enquiry now focuses on what might be the reality underlying the specific myth, and which actual events in the distant past might have furnished the material for the creation of these myths. Could it be that in some splendid period of the Minoan empire in the Aegean, earlier than that of LC Akrotiri, when the balance of power was being established (a process later embodied in epic narratives), the pax Minoica encompassed societies which were linked together by strong religious ties? Could it be that these societies, observing a strict socio-religious etiquette, were participants with specific roles to play in a created form of symbolism which was enacted for centuries, if not millennia, in the Aegean, and which resulted in the preservation of peace and security in the region by non-violent means? After all, the Minoan age seems so peaceful, even though it is characterised by great 'mobility' (shipping, trade, etc.) and disposed of great wealth - factors which are eminent causes of dispute, friction and conflict. This state of affairs presents too much of a paradox to be explained in today's terms, and requires another model of interpretation. As a result, we have a further argument (together with the completely different building plan as between the metropolis and the periphery) in support of our interpretation of the miniature frieze.

At this point we should further document our opinion that the structures outside the town, with the single horn, were the young men's dwellings (Pl. 3). There is ample literary testimony for the separation of young men in Cretan society from the earliest times. We cite the relevant extracts: "They say that the Cretan state was first organized by Minos, who proved important in both practical and legal matters; and every nine years he amended the laws" (Heracleides, Cretorum xiv; cf. the sending of Athenian youths to Crete by Athens every nine years); "...the young people in Crete live in groups... Indeed they gather in herds [άγέλαι; cf. the ships of the fleet, each with a different animal emblem]... and in each one is appointed leader one who is called herdsman [άγελάτης; cf. the male in the cabin]... and they do battle exercise in a certain way, boxing [cf. the Boxing Boys]" (Heracleides, Cretorum xiii); "the lawgiver commanded the boys to attend the 'Troops', as they are called, and the full-grown men to eat together at the public messes which they call the 'Andreia'" (Strabo x. 4.16)⁽¹⁸⁾. And further, "the most conspicuous and influential of the boys [cf. those in the cabins] assemble the 'Troops', each collecting as many boys as he possibly can; the leader [άρχων] of each 'Troop' is generally the father of the assembler..." (Strabo x. 4.20)⁽¹⁹⁾; "but in Crete they do not elect the Cosmi [άρχοντες] from all the citizens but from certain clans..." (Aristotle, Politics II vii 4-6⁽²⁰⁾; cf. the cabin emblems (Fig. 7), perhaps some kind of insignia of the Archons-Fathers of the Άγελάται or the clans from which the Cosmi-Archons originate). Here we note Marinatos's observation (1974, 27) that "there must be a special reason for the repetition eight times of the cabin in room 4". Lastly, Dosiades in his Κρητικά mentioned that in Crete "the citizens are divided into clans, that are called Andreia" (Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae iv 143a-d)⁽²¹⁾. A. Panagopoulos (1981, 86) interprets this as indicating the identification of the institution with the original communal (coenobitic) organisation of the citizens into tribes (or perhaps trades/occupations, for we should not forget the host of loomweights, etc. in the contents of the West House).

We have already speculated that the core of LC society at Akrotiri was not necessarily the family, but some other unit such as the lineage or, more probably, some 'guild'. In addition, the excessive repetition (eight times) of the so far unexplained cabin motif in Room 4 (Fig. 7) most probably reveals the emphasis which the West House residents wished to give to an emblem which represented them; for behind the corresponding cabins on the ships of the magnificent fleet are certain distinguished persons who apparently played a leading role (perhaps Άγελάται, Άρχοντες or Κόσμοι), and who can perhaps be identified as eminent occupants of the West House. The comments of the ancient authors quoted immediately above constitute a strong indication of this.

Thus, if Town I is indeed Town V (from another visual angle, Fig. 3), then our young men in the penultimate stage of initiation set off from their dwellings outside the town to embark on an adventurous course, which will always, unfortunately, elude us since the west frieze, of which the north frieze gives us a foretaste, has been lost. This tortuous course ends in the paradisical, exotic and mysterious Town III, where our young men recoup their strength, or remain alone to confront the elements of nature, or go through some mysterious stages of the process.

In terms of size, the east frieze occupies a whole zone, and its content seems to be thematically isolated (after the naturalism, abstraction; after the action, calm). However, it ends right above the 'key figure' of the so-called Priestess, and indeed runs in the same direction as that in which she makes her offering, which fact charges it with a special meaning. It depicts a long river in a paradisical setting with mythical creatures, a mysterious linear undulating element (Pl. 2; cf. the shape to which the Greek word μίτος (clew) alludes - an element invariably present in occult rites). What can one conjecture? Was the action followed by a phase of calm, of divine possession or of ecstasy, within a mythical psychedelic landscape (cf. the ribbed vases among the contents of the House of the Ladies)? We should bear in mind the properties attributed to another dark and mysterious, but real, person from Crete, Epimenides 'the young Curetes' (Solon 12; cf. Oxford Classical Dictionary s.v. Epimenides), author of 'Purifications' and other recondite treatises, whom Suda presents as wandering for a long time outside his body (Plato, Laws xii).

The valorous feats are followed by the mystical phase of initiation, from which the young men will start the triumphant course of return, eventually entering into communion with the men of Akrotiri. A crucial node in this whole journey is the south-east corner of Room 5, where the entrance from Room 4 is situated (Fig. 1). There the mysterious river (cf. clew -μίτος) begins or ends, right above the head of the so-called Priestess (cf. Ariadne) who is right outside the fragmented space of the rituals (cf. the Labyrinth) and faces it in an attitude of offering (cf. Ariadne's clew). Inside this space are two young men (initiants) (Fig. 2), above whose heads a long narration (the final stage of initiation) unfolds. From this crucial node the splendid course of return, as magnificently illustrated in the south frieze, begins (Fig. 1).

As already mentioned, it seems unlikely that the events in the miniature frieze concern a real course and process of initiation in the period of Akrotiri, but that they are rather an epic narration of a real process in the past, which already in the Late Minoan period constituted a symbolic reflection of actual earlier events now transformed into beliefs. It is also probable that this entire narration has been condensed in rites such as those celebrated in the ground floor Room 3b in Xeste 3, but that it has, however, left its indelible traces on all aspects of life and art at Akrotiri, and of course on the architectural concepts of the Theran architect (as in Minoan architecture as a whole), with the pier-and-door partitions (polythyra), multiple windows (polyparathyra) and fragmented spaces such as that of Room 5 in the West House.

Complexity is the keynote in the architecture of the Minoan age: the ground plans are extremely irregular and the routes through them 'dog-legged'. This irregularity in design, which is not accidental, betrays a predilection (if not a prejudice), which is the single most important conclusion to emerge from the field of architecture.

A second very important factor, which argues in favour of the interpretative model we propose, is the marked difference in building plans between Crete and Thera, between palatial and urban architecture. This difference is absolute and allows no comparison. In metropolitan Knossos, the reference centre for the rituals, we encounter an immense labyrinthine palace, whereas in provincial Akrotiri we find single or terraced buildings of urban type. On the one hand, we have the centre of the initiation, which is quite naturally expressed in terms of palatial architecture; and on the other, peripheral initiation which, as might be expected, is expressed in terms of urban architecture. The wealth on both sides is great, the geographical distance between them small, the chronology comparable and the people the same, yet the architectural planning is radically different. As we well know, it is an invariable rule that architectural planning reflects socio-religious (and in the last resort political) characteristics of this kind through the ordering of buildings in general (cf. the pyramids, or later the architecture of Versailles). The same happens here, too. The socio-religious correlation is analogous, which is why architecture expresses it with these enormous differences and peculiarities in the planning of the town, even though the individual building elements (polythyra, polyparathyra, etc.) are the same. This last observation is an extremely important one, for the fact that all the detailed morphological elements are related means that we are dealing with one and the same architecture, which strives successfully to express different architectural programmes for some very specific purpose - a purpose which we believe is none other than that put forward in the miniature frieze. Over the entire architectural spectrum, starting from the level of large scale town planning (palatial versus urban architecture), through individual architectural elements (irregular plans, pier-and-door partitions, etc.), and ending in the small scale interior of the West House and the ground floor of Rooms 3b and 3a of Xeste 3 (fragmented spaces and crooked routes), the hermeneutic model we propose fits exactly.

The tripartite vertical division of the fragmented walls of Room 5 (Fig. 1), as well as the relative positions and inter-correlations of the ones with wall paintings, constitute a happy moment in architectural creation. As we see from the study of the placement of the wall paintings in the West House, purely utilitarian demands coincide absolutely with transcendental considerations. Through this relationship Akrotiri is presented as a joyful and peaceful society, as a society which experienced the divine through everyday life and was reconciled with it. The divine is not remote and hostile. The urban world of Akrotiri is at once secular and 'god-filled', because the religious dimension does not exclude the secular but, by contrast, is in perfect harmony with it. After all, "Rhadamanthys... perceived that the men of his time had a clear belief in their existence as gods" (Plato, Laws xii)⁽²²⁾.

In all periods, the transfer of the theoretical concept to architectural design is achieved only in phases of great inspiration, inspiration that only contact with the divine can invoke with such intensity. And Minoan architecture was called on to house 'god-filled' men (ένθεοι), just as in other eras other monuments - such as Classical temples or Byzantine churches - also played this role.

At this point, some clarification is called for. As stated earlier, we consider the information given by the ancient authors, in particular Plato and Aristotle, to be valid, and regard this as referring mainly to society in the Minoan age. We can now proceed to summarise our methodology as follows: 1) the noting of the relevant passage in the ancient text; 2) matching it with the archaeological data, whether specific objects (for example, the motif of the single horns, the ground floor area 3b of Xeste 3, the ribbed vases, etc.), or commonly accepted views (for example, that the Minoan age was a period of peace); and 3) the investigation and evaluation of the inferred correspondence. Examining the conclusions reached in this way, we find nothing which contradicts our proposed model for the interpretation of the miniature frieze. This is a positive indication that our research is proceeding in the right direction. A classic method for solving very difficult problems, for which there are no direct proofs, is the reductio ad absurdum. A proposition is accepted from its results, and is only rejected when its acceptance creates incompatibilities. So far, however, the orchestration of so many contradictory and complex elements without any incompatibility constitutes an encouraging indication that the proposed interpretation is correct.

It is noteworthy that the proposed hermeneutic model provides answers to the many hitherto fascinating but unanswered questions about the Minoan age. The two most important of these are: 1) Why is there such a great difference between the overall building plan of two related societies (palatial versus urban architecture), while there are affinities between the rest of the architectural elements? And 2) why is this period apparently so peaceful, even though it is one of great wealth and mobility (as shown by flourishing trade, production, etc.)?

The basic reason for these paradoxes is, in our opinion, very simple. We are dealing with another kind of society, entirely different from modern ones of western type. In order to approach it, we must free our minds of the preconceptions of our age and listen carefully to the messages transmitted to us by those who were closer to that society. We should not be deflected by objections of the type, "but Akrotiri and Knossos did not exist in Plato's and Aristotle's day".

In great civilisations, such as the Greek, chronological distances may be great, but tradition is always transmitted as a strong undercurrent which exists within the literature (cf. Probonas 1989). We believe that, unless we approach this period with the help of those men (the ancient authors) who constitute the intermediate links in the chain of cultural tradition, these societies will remain inaccessible and inexplicable, despite the host of data available to us, in much the same way as,a foreign language for which we lack the basic feel. (How often we can know all the words in a phrase, but fail to grasp its meaning because we approach it with the logic of our own language.) By analogy, we cannot hope fully to understand such a different period exclusively from the archaeological record and our own logic. As an intermediate step, particularly when roving around such conservative domains as religion, we need the ancient texts, and above all the feeling that the ancient authors convey to us.

In conclusion, we consider that the proposed model is a valuable methodological key to recognising and identifying the available evidence, whether primary or derived from comparative study of other contemporary civilisations. As such, it is the catalyst for a more secure hermeneutic approach.

(1). We point out that, in order to comprehend fully the correlations made in this paper, one must read the Greek texts. To facilitate the reader, and despite the fact that in many instances the Greek text is not correctly rendered, the excerpts aregiven in English translation from the relevant Loeb editions. Moreover, given the strictures of space, for reasons of economy we limit our references to the works by the two excavators of the site of Akrotiri, the late Professor S. Marinatos and Professor C.G. Doumas (Marinatos 1974 and Doumas 1992 respectively, with relevant bibliography).

(2). οί δ'άπό νηών ύψι μελαινάων έπιβάντες, μακροίσι ξυστοίσι τά ΄ρά σφ'έπί νηυσίν έκειτο να΄θμαχα... 

(3). ...έάν μέν ό Θησεύς νικήση τόν Μινώταυρον, καταπλείν αύτούς λευκοίς ίστίοις...

(4). ...καί τούτο τής σωτηρίας αύτών ποιήσασθαι σμείον...

(5). ...έάν ύποστρέφη ζών, λεύκοίς πετάσαι τήν ναύν ίστίοις...

(6). ...ώς χειρώσεται τόν Μινώταυρον, έδωκεν έτερον ίστίον τώ κυβερνήτη κελεύσας ύποστρέφοντα σωζομένου τού Θησέως έπάρασθαι τό λευκόν, εί δέ μή, τώ μέλανι πλείν καί άποσημαίνειν τό πάθος...

(7). This myth, like many others in the view of a host of researchers (I.K. Probonas, A. Panagopoulos and others), reflects beliefs relating to the customs of that time, and is specifically associated with boys coming to manhood. The myth was presumably reworked as time passed, and the original blood rite transformed into feats and offerings (as at LC Akrotiri). Indeed, its commonest transformation concerns the offering by the initiates of individual 'goods' deriving from their feats, such as for example offerings of the fish caught by the initiates themselves. As is well known, the initiation of youths and their entry into the society of adults was the most important event in those societies, and manifestations of this kind were characteristic of that period.

(8). ...ήσθείς δέ καί ό Μίνως... δόγμα κοινόν ήν Έλλήνων μηδεμίαν έκπλείν τριήρη μηδαμόθεν άνδρών πέντε πλείονας δεχομένην...

(9). ...μίμημα τών έν τώ Λαβύρίνθω περιόδων καί διεξόδων, έν τινι ΄ρυθμώ παραλλάξεις καί άνελίξεις...

(10). ...Φιλόχορος δέ φήσιν... ότι φρουρά μέν ήν ό Λαβύρινθος, ούδέν έχων κακόν...

(11). ...καί γάρ ό Μίνως άεί διετέλει κακώς άκούων καί λοιδορούμενος έν τοίς Άττικοίς θεάτροις...

(12). ...τόν μέν Μίνω βασιλέα καί νομοθέτην...

(13). ...έθους δέ όντος έν Κρήτη θεάσθαι καί τάς γυναίκας, Άριάδνη παρούσα...

(14). ...ώς μέν οί πολλοί γράφουσι καί άδουσι, παρά τής Άριάδνης έρασθείσης τό λίνον λαβών, καί διδαχθείς ώς έστι εού λαβυρίνθου τούς έλιγμούς διεξελθείν...

(15). ...έν έσχάτω μέρει τού λαβυρίνθου παίων πυγμαίς άπέκτεινεν...

(16). ...στρατοπέδου γάρ πολιτείαν έχετε, άλλ'ούκ έν άστεσι κατωκηκότων άλλ' οίον άθρόους πώλους έν άγέλη νεμομένους φορβάδας τούς νέους κέκτησθε...

(17). ...περί τόν Κερατώνα βωμόν, έκ κεράτων συνηρμοσμένον εύωνύμων άπάντων...

(18). ...τούς μέν παίδας είς τάς όνομαζομένας άγέλας κελεύσαι φοιτάν, τούς δε τελείους έν τοίς συσσιτίοις, ά καλούσιν άνδρεία...  

(19). ...τάς δ' άγέλας συνάγουσιν οί έπιφανέστατοι τών παίδων καί δυνατώτατοι, έκαστος όσους πλείστους οίος τέ έστιν άθροίζων έκάστης δέ τής άγέλης άρχων έστίν ώς τό πολύ ό πατήρ τού συναγαγόντος...  

(20). ...ένταύθα δ' ούκ έξ άπάντων αίρούνται τούς κόσμους άλλ' έκ τινών γενών...

(21). ...διήρηνται δ΄οί πολίται πάντες καθ' έταιρίας καλούσι δέ ταύτας άνδρεία...

(22). ...κατείδε τούς τότε άνθρώπους ήγουμένους έναργώς είναι θεούς...

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