Mythology Anatomy: Australian Aboriginal Mythology

We've arrived at the third stop in our series. After Turkish and Chinese mythology, we're switching continents entirely: Australia.

First, I need to clarify something. We're not actually talking about a single "Aboriginal mythology." Over 250 different Aboriginal languages were spoken across Australia, each with its own narratives and ancestral figures. This article can only offer a small glimpse into such a vast heritage.

I should also mention upfront that some stories in Aboriginal culture are considered sacred and are only told to specific genders or to those who have reached a certain initiation stage. I will strictly stick to content that is already publicly available in museum and academic sources.

I also need to add a note about Uluru. You can find the story of the battle between Kuniya and Liru all over the internet. However, Parks Australia, which officially protects Uluru, specifically requests on its website that these stories not be retold. I respect that request, so I will only cover Uluru in a very general framework.

Human presence in Australia dates back at least 65,000 years. This makes it one of the oldest, continuously surviving cultures in the world. Now, let's start with the very cornerstone of these roots.

Dreamtime

It is translated into English as "Dreamtime" or "Dreaming," but this translation is somewhat misleading. The word does not refer to a dream you have while sleeping, but rather to a reality where the world was created and is still being created.

The first person to use this English term was anthropologist W.E.H. Stanner, in an essay he wrote in 1953. Stanner said he could not find a single word to describe the concept, because Dreamtime is simultaneously a creation era, a legal system, and a person's own identity.

Each language group has its own name for it. The Arrernte people call it altjira, in the southeast it is alcheringa, and in other places it is lalai or wongar. But they all point to the same fundamental idea.

The ancestral beings from this era emerged when the world was still formless. They walked, they crawled, they flew; everywhere they passed, a mountain, a river, or a rock was formed. When they finished their work, some sank into the earth, some withdrew into the sky, and some turned into a rock or a tree.

Here is the most striking part: Dreamtime is not a period left behind in the past. In this understanding, the past, present, and future exist simultaneously. Stanner perfectly summarizes this with the word "everywhen," which is to say "always." Time is not a line; it is a cycle.

But it does not end with cosmology. Dreamtime also determines how society establishes itself. Who can marry whom, who calls whom "brother" or "uncle," which land is under which family's responsibility – all of it is based on the rules left by Dreamtime.

This is where totemism comes into play. In some communities, certain birds or trees are treated as actual relatives; a woman speaks to her totem bird just as she would speak to her own sister. In other words, the bond between humans and nature is not metaphorical; it is considered a real kinship tie.

This system also works on a personal level. When someone asks "What is your Dreaming?" they are actually asking which ancestral being your spirit comes from and which land you belong to. Dreamtime functions like an identity card, determining who you are and where you belong.

There is a significant difference from Western religious understandings. According to Stanner, Aboriginal belief does not have a reward-punishment system like "if you are good, you go to heaven." It is more of a "philosophy of acceptance"; it is built on accepting that the world is already as it is, and that humans are a part of this order.

This knowledge is passed down from hand to hand, through story, song, ceremony, dance, and painting. Even which food will be found where in which season is part of this transmission; Dreamtime carries the practical knowledge needed for survival.

The Rainbow Serpent

Rainbow Serpent

This is the most widespread figure in Aboriginal cosmology. But be careful: there is no single "Rainbow Serpent." Each region has its own name and its own story. In Arnhem Land it is Ngalyod, in Western Australia it is Wagyl or Waugal, and elsewhere it is called Witij or Yurlungur.

What they share is this: this giant serpent emerged from the eternal waters and carved rivers, valleys, and waterholes into the earth. It is associated with water, rain, and fertility.

The Waugal, told by the Noongar people of Western Australia, created the Swan River and the surrounding lakes that flow through modern-day Perth. As the serpent slithered across the land, the trail left by its body directly became the riverbed. In 1836, a colonial interpreter who came to the region recorded that the Noongar people considered round stones sacred as the "serpent's eggs" and carefully protected them.

Ngalyod in Arnhem Land, on the other hand, is a shape-shifting being; in some paintings it is depicted with a crocodile head, in others with a body carrying kangaroo or fish features. When the rainy season arrives and parched waterholes suddenly fill with birds and fish, this change is directly attributed to Ngalyod's transformative power.

In another narrative, a serpent named Goorialla travels north for days searching for his own people; everywhere he passes, deep valleys and mountains form. Eventually, he hears a song in the distance, finds his people, and teaches them how to dress and how to dance.

Its character is dual-sided. On one hand, it is a life-giving, rain-bringing creator. On the other, it is a merciless force that punishes those who break sacred rules, sometimes sending illness or storms.

The rainbow itself is considered his journey; its appearance in the sky after rain indicates that the serpent is moving from one water source to another. In some narratives, the colors of the rainbow are even matched with seasons: blue for winter, red for summer, yellow for spring, orange for autumn. For this reason, some communities avoid approaching certain waters during the rainy season, so as not to disturb the serpent.

Songlines (Dreaming Tracks)

In English, these are called "songlines" or "dreaming tracks." They are invisible paths that cross the continent from end to end, but are marked by song. This is perhaps the most unique form of Aboriginal knowledge transmission.

The person who introduced the term to the world was British author Bruce Chatwin, who wrote the book "The Songlines" in 1987. But it is also worth noting that Aboriginal scholars and elders have long found Chatwin's narrative overly romanticized and failing to capture the real complexity. He himself described the book as "half-fiction" in places. Still, the term stuck, which is why I am using it.

The idea works like this: as the ancestral beings of the Dreamtime walked across the land, they named every place they passed and sang songs. These songs were not lost; they were passed down from generation to generation. When sung in the correct order, they can tell a person where to go in the middle of the desert and which rock hides water.

The "Two Dogs Dreaming" told in South Australia is a good example. The ancestral emu Kuringii is chased by two ancestral dingoes and is eventually killed at the foot of the Flinders Ranges. Where its blood flowed is the site of the valuable red ochre mine at Parachilna today. The story itself encodes the trade route for this valuable pigment.

Some Dreaming tracks left such a lasting imprint that they have become modern highways. The Nullarbor highway between Perth and Adelaide, and the road between Kimberley and Darwin, were actually built on top of these older tracks.

The Seven Sisters story, which I will mention later, also corresponds to one of the continent's longest dreaming tracks, described as a route stretching from Roebourne in the west to the eastern coast.

Early anthropologists were amazed by Aboriginal guides who could cross hundreds of kilometers of desert without a map and without error. Some researchers compare this tradition to Homer's oral epic technique in ancient Greece; in both, knowledge is carried across generations through a memorable rhythm and repetition.

Sky Legends

Here is something truly surprising. In many Aboriginal language groups, the Pleiades star cluster is called the "Seven Sisters," just as it is in Greek mythology. The story is almost the same: seven sisters are being chased by a hunter in the Orion constellation.

There is a strange detail, too. With the naked eye, usually only six stars are visible in the Pleiades, not seven. Yet both Greek and Aboriginal traditions insist on "seven."

Some astronomers think this is no coincidence. By calculating the movement of the stars backward through the sky, it has been suggested that this story might be as old as 100,000 years, predating even the human exodus from Africa. If true, this could be the oldest story ever carried by humanity.

According to the narrative, seven sisters from the Napaljarri group are fleeing from a man (Jakamarra or Jampijinpa) who is of the wrong skin group. In Aboriginal law, correct marriage groups are vitally important; for this man to pursue one of the sisters is a major taboo. The sisters travel across the world as they flee, and finally leap from a steep hill into the sky, turning into the Pleiades stars. But the man does not give up; he also rises into the sky, becomes the Orion constellation, and continues to chase them every night.

Moreover, the route of this songline aligns with actual ceremonial grounds in the middle of the desert. For example, a place called Yanjirlypirri in Warlpiri territory is a sacred site mentioned in this story and is considered the center for young male initiation ceremonies (Kurdiji).

There is something else entirely in the Aboriginal sky: the Emu in the Sky. But this is not a constellation made of stars, as in Western astronomy. It is formed by the dark dust clouds in the Milky Way, meaning it is read from the darkness between the stars, not from the stars themselves.

The Emu's position in the sky also determines the season. When it appears at a certain angle, it signals that it is time for the bird to lay eggs, meaning the right time to collect eggs has arrived.

Creatures

Bunyip is probably the most familiar name, perhaps the best-known mythological creature in Australia. It is a water monster believed to live in swamps and lakes, but its description varies so much from region to region that one researcher counted nine different regional variants.

Its function is mostly practical: to keep children away from dangerous waters. Warnings like "do not go near the water, the Bunyip will get you" were actually a real safety measure against drowning. Some researchers think that ancient Aborigines who came across fossils of extinct giant mammals (like Diprotodon) might have given these bones the name Bunyip.

Tiddalik is another beloved story. A giant frog, thirsty, drinks all the water in the world, and drought sets in. When the animals manage to make him laugh, the water returns. It is a teaching tale about the price of greed and the necessity of sharing, especially cherished and passed down to children.

Yara-ma-yha-who, on the other hand, is much more terrifying. It is a small creature with red skin, no teeth, and sucker-covered hands and feet, living in fig trees. It drops from the tree onto its victim and uses its suckers to drink their blood. The person who wrote down this story was David Unaipon; he was the first published Aboriginal author, an inventor, and a figure whose portrait is on Australia's fifty-dollar bill today.

Not every creature is frightening, and not all serve the same function. The Mimi spirits told of in Arnhem Land are the opposite example. They appear in rock paintings around Kakadu and Nourlangie Rock dating back 50,000 years; they are so ancient that they are considered one of the earliest traces of human presence on the continent.

The Mimis are described as so thin and fragile that a strong wind could break their necks. For this reason, they only come out on windless nights, and during the day they blow into the cracks in the rocks and slip inside through the gaps.

They are not frightening; quite the opposite, they are considered teachers. According to the narratives, they taught the first humans how to hunt, make fire, cook meat, and even how to create rock paintings. The very origins of Aboriginal art are tied to a mythological figure.

Sacred Lands

As I mentioned earlier for Uluru, I will keep to a general framework. For the Anangu people, this rock carries the traces of countless stories from the creation period known as Tjukurpa; every crack and hollow is considered the remnant of an ancestral event. But most of these stories are not told to the public; they are passed down only within the Anangu community, to the right person at the right time.

This knowledge sharing is not random, either; who learns which story and when is determined by their age, gender, and family ties. It is not an encyclopedia open to everyone at once, but rather a learning process that advances door by door.

A more openly shared example is the Three Sisters in the Blue Mountains. Three sisters named Meehni, Wimlah, and Gunnedoo fell in love with three brothers from a neighboring community. But marriage was forbidden, and conflict broke out between the two sides. An elder who wanted to protect the sisters turned them into stone, but he died without being able to reverse the spell. The sisters still stand today as those three rock pillars.

Devil's Marbles

Another example, Karlu Karlu (the Devil's Marbles), taught me an interesting lesson. A very common claim circulates on the internet: that these rocks are the Rainbow Serpent's eggs. But according to a source that works closely with the traditional owners of the region, this is a complete fabrication, a "new age" flavored myth; and the Indigenous owners were genuinely upset and disturbed when they heard it.

The actual story that the elders have agreed to tell the public is different: a Devil Man named Arrange was passing through the area while weaving a belt from hair, and the strands that fell to the ground became the rocks we see today.

Spirit and Death

Here too, there is no single belief. The Yanyuwa people believe that humans have two separate souls: one that resides in the bones, inherited from the father, and another identified with the shadow or heartbeat. Some of the Arrernte people go to the opposite extreme and do not hold a clear belief in life after death.

Still, there are some recurring common practices. A long mourning period called "Sorry Business" allows the community to grieve together; for the duration of this period, everyday life is set aside, and the entire community gathers for the loss.

In many groups, the deceased person's real name is not spoken for a long time, sometimes for years. Instead, a temporary name like "Kunmanara" or "Kwementyaye" is used. The reason is that speaking their name is believed to disturb the spirit and call it back in an unsettled state.

In some communities, a "smoking ceremony" is also part of the mourning process; people and objects passed through the smoke of burning plants are considered purified from the deceased person's spirit.

The practice of "Return to Country" is also common; burial on one's own ancestral land is considered important for the spirit to find peace. In some communities, the spirit is believed to go to the sky, in others to a specific sacred place, and in others to a waiting place where it will be reborn.

Closing Thoughts

Unlike other mythologies, there is no hierarchy here with a sovereign on a throne and subordinate gods beneath them; there is no single supreme deity or a single holy book. Power is directly embedded in the land itself; every river and every rock carries the imprint of its own ancestor.

While preparing this piece, the thing that struck me most was the small lesson from Karlu Karlu. How widely a story spreads does not prove its accuracy; what truly matters is what the custodians of that story choose to tell.

While writing this, I often stopped and asked myself: is it appropriate to share this information, or is it disrespectful? I have tried to be as careful as possible. Still, if I have made any mistakes, I apologize in advance.

For those who want to experience the story more vividly: If you'd like to listen to the Seven Sisters story by the fire, you can find it via this link. Click the "Back to Map" button on the page to explore other stories as well.

See you at our next mythology stop.