The Legend of Atlantis

Atlantis – it's one of the few ancient legends that can still get modern imaginations running. From Patrick Duffy and his webbed hands, to Captain Nemo's self-aggrandising discovery, it seems everyone's had a bite at the Atlantis cherry in popular culture. But hidden beneath the deluge of disaster TV and computer games, how did the concept of Atlantis come to be? And is there any truth to the myth?

Origin

Atlantis' genesis arrived with the works of one of the founders of western philosophy, Plato. His 360 BC works Timaeus and Critias chronicled the existence of an island state lying in the Atlantic Ocean to the west of the 'Pillars of Hercules' – the two outcrops which mark the Strait of Gibraltar (one of which is the Rock of Gibraltar itself; the other having been contested between Monte Hacho in the Spanish city of Ceuta and Jebel Musa in Morocco). Plato oddly paints two alternate pictures of the fabled state. In Critias he takes a mythological line, deeming the island a product of the sea god Poseidon. Poseidon then fathers five sets of twin sons on the nation's shores – and names it after the first-born, Atlas. Poseidon then splits the state up into ten kingdoms, one for each son. This godly society became a portrait of serenity and perfection and survived for centuries. Its people thus grew complacent and greedy. As a punishment for their fall, Zeus decides to punish the Atlanteans by destroying their home.

According to Plato, this story finds provenance in Egypt, where it was told to the Athenian thinker Solon by a priest in the ancient city of Sais. Atlantis was a nation 'larger than Libya and Asia together', and had existed a full 9,000 years before Solon's birth, or around 9,600 BC. The story crosses over into Timaeus, the more historically-minded side of the story in which Plato reiterates the state's efficacy as having 'genuine history', and being within the 'realm of fact'. This Atlantis is portrayed as the antithesis of the 'perfect' Athenian society, and attempts to conquer Athens as it spreads mercilessly eastwards. Plato describes a mighty battle between the two superpowers which the Atlanteans lose, of course. Upon their devastating defeat, the island is beset by a deluge of natural disasters: “Afterwards there occurred violent earthquakes and floods; and in a single day and night of misfortune all your warlike men in a body sank into the earth, and the island of Atlantis in like manner disappeared in the depths of the sea.”

Plato's account of the capital of Atlantis still captures the imagination of modern writers and artists, and seems an incredibly modern layout at a time when Hippodamus' ground-breaking grid-based city plans had just arrived. The city itself comprised a number of concentric rings of land and canals, in the centre of which was a shrine to Poseidon and his mortal wife Cleito, surrounded by a golden wall through which entry was forbidden.

Early Receptions

So if Plato couldn't make his mind up on Atlantis, how has history sought the elusive state? Not very conclusively, it seems. A student of Plato's student Xenocrates, Crantor, was said to have taken Plato's word as truth, but his work was largely lost. It took until the 5th century AD for the Christian philosopher Proclus to comment on Crantor's work. Though the translation of Proclus' literature is hotly debated, most avenues seem to suggest he travelled to Sais, where he observed hieroglyphs confirming Plato's story. Two other great Greek historians, Strabo and Posidonius, also lent their seal of approval to Plato's myth, though it garnered ridicule in other quarters. The 4th century BC historian and writer Theopompus described a distant land called Meropis, on which the men grew to twice normal size and lived on two islands, Eusebes ('Pious town') and Machimos ('Fighting town'). The story is neither a political or religious homage to Plato, but a derisory parody of his story. It is important to bear in mind that, while many were partial to Plato's storytelling, a large portion of the populace viewed Atlantis with about as much incredulity as today.

Pliny the Elder was another to throw his hat in the Atlantean mix, by stating that the island was a Numidian state (an ancient Moroccan tribe) lying around 12,000km away from Cadiz. The Numidian king intended to establish a farm of purple murex (a giant mollusc used for its dye) there. Diodorus was certain the Phoenicians and Etruscans knew of an island west of the Pillars of Hercules, where lush forests grew, the weather was mild and rivers ran purely all year round. Some modern historians have made a link between Atlantis and an ancient Roman and Greek mythological place called Thule. This legend is equated with many places, mostly in north-western Europe, including Iceland, Greenland, the Orkneys, Saaremaa (a small Latvian island just north of Riga). Many have even claimed that Thule, and Atlantis, are in fact Britain – though this is one of the more outlandish Atlantean theories (which are in no short supply; just check out our interactive map).

As the legend moved into the middle ages, a new lease of mysticism allowed Plato's baby to flourish. And come the renaissance and 18th century, theories abounded as to the mythical land's provenance. Francis Bacon alluded to the tale in his 1627 work The New Atlantis argued the existence of an island called Bensalem off the west coast of America. Isaac Newton turned his hand to the legend at one point in 1728, and the new world of South America brought no small amount of rumours that the enigma was of Maya or Aztec origin. As society burst into the 19th century, various mystics and psychics had their say on the lost continent. More and more frequently, Atlantis was being dragged away from her original position between the Pillars of Hercules, and dropped somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. In an increasingly globalised age, this allowed for Atlantis' mystique to endure; if its efficacy did take a beating. Check out our interactive map to see some of the more and less founded Atlantis theories.

Origin Theories

The fact that Plato gets his story from Egypt coincides suspiciously with the Egyptian tale of Keftiu, an island supposedly placed to the west of Egypt. However this island isn't necessarily west of the Mediterranean; thus many believe it to have been the lands of the ancient Minoan civilization, namely Thera and Crete. It seems entirely possible Plato could have misunderstood the Egyptian story, as the Minoans, lasting from around 3,000 – 1,400 BC, would have come into contact with Egyptians, and were indeed an advanced race with language, shipping, trade and commerce. It does seem a compelling argument, and somewhat humorous as it implies Plato may have been standing on the very island he deemed to be lost forever when scribing his account of Atlantis. Supposedly the story's provenance will remain a mystery throughout time. But the sheer romance of the tale, and the fact we still know so little of our own oceans, makes Atlantis a myth revisited by society on a daily basis. Plato's island may never have existed, but it will surely never die.

Images by Helen Tan, Bender235 and John.

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About The Author

Sean Williams (follow me: e-mail or )

Last three pieces by this author:

New York's Met Museum Records Best Attendance since 2001 | Bettany Hughes Publications you Can't go Without | 3,200-year-old Chariot Linchpin 'Proves Ancient Egyptian City in Israel'

Sean is an English Literature graduate, who currently works as a writer and journalist in London. He enjoys ancient history, theatre and sport. He does not enjoy Big Brother.