Mythology, even if not overtly religious, can be spiritual. If you've ever gazed in awe at a sunset, willfully sacrificed and suffered, or (as Campbell has done) had a conversation with a tree, then you've experienced the power of myth and the indelible hold it has on all humanity. The mythical experiences we've had in our lives are ripples in the larger cosmic pool, reflecting in all their glory our perception of infinite divinity. From time to time we stoop over the otherwise glassy waters, only to find that our presence has disturbed our own self-reflection. If we could glimpse perfectly our own image then we'd know what we really are, for the all-pervasive cosmic eye within each of us is our vision in the water. Some of us are better than others at sneaking up on the mirror of tranquility, being ever near the divine spot in our waking lives and thus learned in its subtle ways and presence. Others shift their attention to the ripples rather than the reflection, and still others are lost in the surrounding forests. When finally the beautific vision of our true nature is made manifest by our efforts, we acquire realization in the oneness of ourselves and the pool's reflection, thereby dwelling perpetually in the divine cosmic sea that is everything and nothing, one and many, named by us but ultimately unnamable, and, in its ever-present incorporeality, paradoxically invisible to nearly all creation.
What I just created is a myth, a framework of analogically constructed elements that tells us something about the truth of our own existence (granted, a full bodied mythology is embedded in a storyline). But the fact that it's a myth doesn't mean it isn't true; on the contrary, the pool of illumination is more real than ever precisely because its truth transcends the spiritually delusional nature of literal, skeptical empiricism that so often blinds us to a recognition of reality as shards of the divine. Joseph Campbell (former professor at Sarah Lawrence College), here interviewed by Bill Moyers (transcribed from the 1980's PBS documentary), pours out his lifelong wisdom on the nature of mythology and its importance in our lives. And the vast majority of world mythology we see here is religious in nature. It almost has to be because the myths are fundamentally spiritual to begin with. But this isn't really a book on religion; rather, it should be approached as an aid to scriptural interpretation. Campbell expounds on every kind of mythology, from Native America to India to Africa. And with each story, whether primeval or modern, we begin to sense that many fundamental motifs recur.
Cambpell's basic idea is that, in the words of Goethe, "everything is metaphor." This means the metaphoricalization of all religious elements, from the cross of Christianity to the notion of reincarnation in the East. But Campbell claims that this doesn't diminish faith in the least, rather it can help us to better understand our faiths and, at the same time, recognize the truth in other religions. But this presents a slight problem. When Campbell is asked if he believes in reincarnation, he simply replies "reincarnation, like heaven, is a metaphor." But ask any Hindu guru or Buddhist monk and you will get a very different answer. And these gurus and monks are the ones that have actually experienced the rapture of truth in the context of their religion, and hence the individuals I am more likely to trust as sources of wisdom. So the problem is that Campbell's ideas come off seeming like an intellectualization of religion rather than a spiritualization. Consequently, anyone willing to follow their faith according to Campbell's philosophy must, at least partially, submit their spirituality to a sort of psychological constructivism. Now I'm not arguing against metaphorical interpretation. On the contrary, the most profound meanings of scripture are hidden in analogical crevices. But there is a difference between acknowledging the metaphorical and psychological importance of religion and wholly relegating God to a "personification of a motivating power or value system." I personally view God as a sort of pantheistic, acosmically monistic incorporeality capable of outwardly finite (and hence personal) manifestations (Christ, Buddha, Krishna, etc.). I also think that the path to God is an inward path, and that God will be found and realized in the depths of our being. But this does not imply that God is merely a value system. In my opinion, much of Campbell's commentary is wise and appropriate, but he occasionally goes to far. Most of religion is man-made (inspired by God) and in these elements metaphoricalization is fitting. But the cosmic structure (as in the monistic reality) is like an hourglass: on one end is the every day world we experience, with all of its stories and metaphors, and the other half is what is needed to come to a complete knowledge of reality. But bridging the two spheres is the narrow passage to enlightenment. If one misses the passage and ends up believing that a single sphere is everything there is, then it is inevitable that the existence of the other sphere will be merely relegated to metaphor. In other words, metaphor is critically important but it is possible to end up on a slippery slope and go too wild with the idea. Metaphor must be an aid to religion, not an intellectual veiler of truth.
Overall, however, this is a very worthwhile read. Just keep in mind that Campbell is, first and foremost, a scholar. He himself notes that an individual's occupation molds that individual. Even before they open their mouths, you can always tell an engineer from a professor from a priest. This being said, you should expect from this book a useful companion in the way of scriptural and symbol interpretation, but don't expect a complete spiritual revitalization. That can only be found in your own personal experience.