As a species we humans have been interpreting our dreams at least as far back as recorded history goes, and possibly long before then. Even the ancient Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh, one of our earliest recorded stories (dating back to 2100 BCE) contained dreams that were rife with symbolism and foreshadowing as Gilgamesh went about his adventures. The ancient Greeks and Romans afforded great significance to dreams as well, even going as far as personifying them, as they did many of the elements that held importance to their cultural lives.

Dreams were collectively known as the Oneiroi and associated with Hypnos, the God of Sleep and the root of the modern word Hypnosis. Depending on who you read, the Oneiroi were either the brothers (Hesiod) or sons (Ovid) of Hypnos, but both writers agreed they were mothered by the goddess of night, Nyx, and the Oneiroi were prolific in their numbers.

In Book XI of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, he transports his readers to Hypnos’ land of sleep, deep in a cave near the edge of the world. Shrouded around the entrance are beds of poppies and other plants, acknowledging the herbal medicines that can induce slumber. The inside is devoid of all light, and from beneath comes a gentle lulling sound as the river of forgetfulness, Lethe, murmurs below, perhaps the cause of forgotten dreams upon waking.

“from the bottom of a rock beneath, Lethean waters of a stream ooze forth, sounds of a rivulet, which trickle with soft murmuring amid the pebbles and invite soft sleep. Before the cavern doors most fertile poppies and a wealth of herbs bloom in abundance, from the juice of which the humid night-hours gather sleep and spread it over darkened Earth. No door is in that cavern-home and not a hinge’s noise nor guarding porter’s voice disturbs the calm. But in the middle is a resting-couch, raised high on night-black ebony and soft with feathered cushions, all jet black, concealed by a rich coverlet as dark as night, on which the god of sleep, dissolved in sloth lies with unmoving limbs. Around him there in all directions, unsubstantial dreams recline in imitation of all shapes—as many as the uncounted ears of corn at harvest—as the myriad leaves of trees—or tiny sand grains spread upon the shore.”

Ovid, Metamorphoses Book XI, Trans Brookes More

Clustered around Hypnos are the Oneiroi that bring us our dreams, resting before they head out to deliver their nightly messages. The visuals of leaves on trees and grains of sand on the beach demonstrate just how many forms these dreams can take; uncountable variations that come to us in the night. Of all the Oneiroi, Ovid names only three: Morpheus, Phobetor and Phantasos. Morpheus (the root of the word morphine) is especially skilled in mimicking human forms, and he is often used by the Gods to impersonate others and deliver messages via their dreams. His brother Phobetor (the root of the word phobia) transforms into creatures, he creates the animals, birds and reptiles of dreams, many of which have nightmarish qualities. Lastly comes Phantasos (the root of the word fantasy) who is responsible for the surreal dreams in which inanimate objects interact and speak with us:

“Out of the multitude—his thousand sons—the god of sleep raised Morpheus by his power. Most skillful of his sons, who had the art of imitating any human shape; and dexterously could imitate in men the gait and countenance, and every mode of speaking. He could simulate the dress and customary words of any man he chose to represent—but he could not assume the form of anything but man. Such was his art. Another of Sleep’s sons could imitate all kinds of animals; such as a wild beast or a flying bird, or even a serpent with its twisted shape; and that son, by the gods above was called Icelos—but the inhabitants of earth called him Phobetor—and a third son, named Phantasos, cleverly could change himself into the forms of earth that have no life; into a statue, water, or a tree. It was the habit of these three to show themselves at night to kings and generals; and other sons would frequently appear among the people of the common class.”

Ovid, Metamorphoses Book XI, Trans Brookes More

The above quote from Ovid also points out that the most important dreams are reserved for the kings and generals; those that play important roles in the human realms. We see this idea echoed in classical literature where there are several dreams that are used as plot devices. Here, these dreams can serve many purposes. In some instances, they deliver prophetic warnings, propelling action based on a vision that appears in a dream. One such example, in the Aeneid, is where Hector appears in a dream and warns Aeneas to gather his family and belongings and flee before Troy is sacked, allowing him to survive and fulfill his destiny as the founder of Rome:

“In slumbers, I dreamed that Hector, most sorrowful and shedding floods of tears, stood before my eyes, torn by the car, as once of old, and black with gory dust, his swollen feet pierced with thongs…. ‘Ah, flee, goddess-born,’ he cries, ‘and escape from these flames. The foe holds our walls; Troy falls from her lofty height.”

Virgil, Aeneid Book II, Trans H.R. Fairclough

In other works, dreams are used for foreshadowing. In the Odyssey, Penelope describes a dream to Odysseus in disguise. Not knowing that her husband has returned, Penelope tells how she dreamed that she was feeding 20 geese until a great eagle flew down and killed them all. By recounting this dream just before Odysseus reveals himself and slaughters all the suitors who were lining Penelope’s halls, these unfolding events were foreshadowed:

“But come now, hear this dream of mine, and interpret it for me. Twenty geese I have in the house that come forth from the water and eat wheat, and my heart warms with joy as I watch them. But forth from the mountain there came a great eagle with crooked beak and broke all their necks and killed them; and they lay strewn in a heap in the halls, while he was borne aloft to the bright sky.”

Homer, The Odyssey book XIX, Trans A.T. Murray

The Gods also co-opted human dreams for their own purposes, using them to send divine messages to the mortals below. In Metamorphoses, Halcyone is unaware that her husband Ceyx has died, and spends her days at the altar of Juno praying for his safe return. Taking pity upon her, Juno dispatches her messenger, Iris, to the cave of dreams where she begs Sleep to send a vision of Ceyx to Halcyone to inform her of his death:

 “O, Sleep, divine repose of all things! Gentlest of the deities! Peace to the troubled mind, from which you drive the cares of life, restorer of men’s strength when wearied with the toils of day, command a vision that shall seem the actual form of royal Ceyx to visit Trachin famed for Hercules and tell Halcyone his death by shipwreck. It is Juno’s wish.”

Ovid, Metamorphoses Book XI, Trans Brookes More

Sometimes dreams could also be used by the gods to trick and deceive. In Homer’s The Iliad Zeus sends a fake dream to Agamemnon to spur him into action. Sending a vision of Nestor, Zeus assures Agammemnon that the Greeks will prevail if they launch an immediate attack, a ruse designed to throw the Greek army into chaos:

“Now all the other gods and men, lords of chariots, slumbered the whole night through, but Zeus was not holden of sweet sleep, for he was pondering in his heart how he might do honour to Achilles and lay many low beside the ships of the Achaeans. And this plan seemed to his mind the best, to send to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, a baneful dream.”

Homer, The Iliad book II, Trans A.T. Murray

These examples all serve to remind us that dreams are a tricky thing: they can relate important news or prophecy, they can be sent from meddling gods, and still yet, they can mean absolutely nothing. So why are they all so different? Penelope provides one explanation in the Odyssey where she reveals:

“Stranger, dreams verily are baffling and unclear of meaning, and in no wise do they find fulfillment in all things for men. For two are the gates of shadowy dreams, and one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those dreams that pass through the gate of sawn ivory deceive men, bringing words that find no fulfillment. But those that come forth through the gate of polished horn bring true issues to pass, when any mortal sees them”.

Homer, The Odyssey book XIX, Trans A.T. Murray

This notion of dreams passing through gates of horn and ivory, differentiating those that hold meaning and importance from those that are deceptive or fruitless, is found elsewhere as well. The Sybil, a prophetic priestess from the temple of Apollo, mentions them to Aeneas in his journey through the underworld in The Aeneid. Plato refers to them in his work, The Charmides. Unfortunately, there is no way for us mere mortals to know from which gate our dreams are issued; we can at best hope that the fortunate ones come to pass.

One of psychologist Carl Jung’s theories on “little dreams and big dreams” has some resonance with this idea of gates of horn and ivory. According to Jung, little dreams are the ones that leave us on waking, that are little more than our neurological processes digesting the events of the previous day. They issue from our personal unconscious, are ego driven, and may contain our anxieties and desires but are often fractured and incomplete. Jung’s big dreams, on the other hand, were the mythic dreams: the ones that tapped into the collective unconscious and expressed themselves in symbols and archetypes. These are the important, transformative dreams: dreams that deal with epic ideas and feel more realistic, lingering in our memory for days after. These are the dreams that reveal truths about our lives and are desperately trying to tell us something:

“We have to distinguish between little dreams and big dreams. Little dreams are mostly personal and insignificant, while big dreams are impersonal and often possess a numinous character. They come from the collective unconscious and can be of great importance.”

C.G. Jung, Seminar on Dream Analysis (1928-30)

The Ancient Greeks and Romans certainly thought dreams had importance, especially given that they were one of the ways in which the gods could speak directly to you. Dream interpretations were captured in both the mythology and literature of these cultures, but there were more practical works written as well. The Ancient Greeks and Romans wrote Oneirocritica; books to help decode their dreams. Based on earlier writings from other cultures, Artemon of Miletus was said to have created a 22-volume treatise on dream interpretation in the 1^st century CE, which sadly is lost in the sands of time. However, Artemidorus’ 5 volume work, compiled in the 2^nd Century CE, still exists and has been translated into multiple languages.

Given the copious amount of content around dream symbolism and interpretation that exists today, it seems that decoding our dreams is something that still holds value for many. It is hard to deny that our dreams shed light on our lives, even the little dreams can make us more self-aware of the anxieties and desires that reside in our psyche. So, until next time, sweet dreams, and the next time Morpheus or his brothers visit you in your sleep make sure you take the time to listen to what they have to say.