Was Quetzalpetlatl a spy?

After the empire-shattering performance of Quetzalpetlatl, for some time, “sisters” do not play much of a role in the history recorded by the Anales de Cuauhtitlan. This changes during the fifteenth-century Tepanec war, when the armies gathered by the Acolhua ruler Nezahualcoyotl go along capturing the Tepanec altepetl (city-states) one by one. Coatlichan, Huexotla, and Acolman, together with their rulers, meet their fate without any comment from the annalist. The fourth city is Toltitlan, and this is where the drama occurs. On the day 1 Tecpatl, the allied warriors of Acolhua, Huexotzinca, Chalca, and Tlaxcalteca, approach Toltitlan. Inside the city, its ruler, Epcoatl, awaits his fate, not knowing that the final blow will come from his wife. The lady, captured by Epcoatl probably shortly before the war, is a daughter of Cuauhtitlan's ruler, Tecocoatl. The following events make it clear that Tecocoatl or his superiors orchestrated this “kidnapping,” using the Cuauhtitlan princess as a Trojan horse. “When the war first broke,” the Anales tells us, “this lady's opinion had been the same as everyone's: that the Tepaneca were to perish” (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:57); she then contributed to the victory of Nezahualcoyotl's forces by secretly informing her father about any war-related plan she overheard. As a result, on 1 Tecpatl, the chiefs of the allied armies know Epcoatl's every move. The princess-spy is waiting for them atop the main pyramid of Toltitlan, setting fire to the temple in a recognizable sign of the altepetl's defeat.

At this point, the chaos of battle begins. Before the people of Cuauhtitlan can reach their princess, the Chalcan warriors take her captive. She is married to Epcoatl; she is unlikely to escape punishment unless she reveals her identity and role to a person in command. With her father nowhere to be seen, she turns to the tlatoani (ruler) of Huexotzinco, Tenocelotl: “O lord, I am your sister (nimohueltihuatzin) for my father, the lord and ruler Tecocoatzin of Cuauhtitlan, has left me here” (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:58). Is she really the sister (or cousin) of Tenocelotl? If this were the case, she would not have to, most likely, introduce herself to him. Moreover, the structure of the Nahuatl phrase seems to imply that the reason for calling herself his “sister” is that her father has sent her to Toltitlan (to act as a spy). The translator of the Anales de Cuauhtitlan, John Bierhorst (Reference Bierhorst1998 [1992]:99, n334), also sensed a metaphor here, suggesting that nimohueltihuatzin may mean “I am your ally.” This interpretation comes close to what hueltiuh connotes in this context. Still, we must look at similar examples from other sources to fully understand this concept.

The Nahua annalist Domingo Chimalpahin who worked between circa 1607 and 1637 (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Tena2003 [1998]:11), recounts the story of a lady whom he calls inhueltiuh Tequanipan tlaca, or “the elder sister of the people of Tequanipan.” This time, there is no doubt that the term “sister” is a metaphor: one cannot be a relative of the entire altepetl. The people of Tequanipan are wandering toward their destination in Chalco, looking for a place to settle. Eventually, they arrive in Amaquemecan, which is already well established, with several tlatoque (plural of tlatoani) ruling the land. The “elder sister” of the migrating altepetl is, simultaneously, a daughter of its leader. She becomes the concubine of one of the Amaquemecan's rulers and has a son with him, who is later installed as the tlatoani of (the now sedentary) Tequanipan (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Tena2003 [1998]:336–339). Susan Schroeder (Reference Schroeder1992:81), who analyzed this story, reflected on the possible symbolic meaning of the term hueltiuh, but to no avail. However, she observed that what this nameless “sister” did for the “people of Tequanipan” was to grant them both recognition from the leaders of Amaquemecan and permission to settle in their land, forming part of its administrative organization and hierarchy. Tequanipan therefore conformed to the typical pattern of alliances practiced in central Mexico. As an altepetl of a weaker position—late to arrive—it had to form a relationship with the already established dynasties. The Mexica of Tenochtitlan employed the same strategy when they came to Colhuacan and “mixed their blood” with the Colhuaque, thereby initiating the Mexica royal lineage. From the union of Amaquemecan's ruler and the “sister of the people of Tequanipan” came the first legitimate tlatoani of Tequanipan and the founder of its future dynasty. Therefore, the “sister” of an altepetl, or its people or leaders, was a link through which they could achieve a political goal. She established contact between her group and the “others,” granting the former benefits and privileges.

The Bancroft Dialogues, an early seventeenth-century collection of fine speeches and conversations in Nahuatl, supports this reading of hueltiuh. In one of the speeches, the tlatoani of Tetzcoco asks the ruling couple of Tenochtitlan for a bride, referring to her as tohueltihuatzin—“our elder sister” (Karttunen and Lockhart Reference Karttunen and Lockhart1987:120). The power hierarchy here is similar to the relationship between Tequanipan and Amaquemecan: Tetzcoco needs a Tenochcan princess to produce legitimate successors to the throne. In the same way that the “sister of the people of Tequanipan” served to strengthen the position of her altepetl, the “sister of the Tetzcoca” serves the Tetzcocan dynasty of which she becomes part. It is also precisely how the Colhuacan princess, married to the miserable Epcoatl of Toltitlan, could claim that she was the “sister” of Tenocelotl, one of the leaders of the allied forces gathered against the Tepanec. The relationship described by the term hueltiuh did not focus on whether the woman came from the same altepetl of which she was called “sister”: whereas Tequanipan's “sister” was indeed from Tequanipan, the “sister” of the Tetzcoca came from Tenochtitlan, and the “sister” of Tenocelotl did not belong to his altepetl, but to the allied Colhuacan. Regardless of where they came from, however, all these women worked in favor of the city-states or dynasties of which they became “sisters.” Also, as the Toltitlan example shows, the political metaphor of hueltiuh did not have to imply peaceful results. “Sisters” of rulers either guaranteed the status quo among the neighboring altepetl or, if this was of more benefit to their hometowns, destroyed the rulership of their husbands. They were mediators between two dynasties: sometimes mothers to future tlatoque, at other times spies. The key here was always acting to the advantage of the person or group whose metaphorical sister they were.

Was Quetzalpetlatl a “toothed-vagina” kind of girl?

One of the most dangerous women-spies known from Nahua literature was Chalchiuhnene of Tlatelolco, wife of the ruler Moquihuix. The marriage of Chalchiuhnene and Moquihuix has already received a great deal of interest in the scholarly world, not only because it eventually led to a spectacular failure of Tlatelolco—which lost its tlatocayotl (the status of a state with a dynastic ruler)—but also because of many juicy details of the couple's relationship. We owe the most complete and colorful account of these events to the Crónica Mexicayotl, a 1609 history written down by the Mexica nobleman Hernando de Alvarado Tezozomoc, with a later contribution by Chimalpahin (Peperstraete and Kruell Reference Peperstraete and Kruell2014). The Crónica says that “Moquihuixtli did not value his wife because she was weak, did not have a pretty face, and she was skinny, not fleshy” (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:136). One of the authors adds in the margin: “Chalchiuhnenetzin was a lady of awful stinky teeth, which is why the ruler Moquihuixtli never had sex with her” (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:136, n220). As if neglecting his matrimonial duty and dynastic obligations was not enough, the Tlatelolcan tlatoani showed disrespect to his wife in many other ways. He would take from her the precious gifts that she received from her royal family and give them to his concubines. He would banish her from luxury rooms and make her sleep “among the grinding stones, in a corner” (that is, where the slaves slept [Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 4, ch. 9:34]). He would beat her. He would make her wear rags. In all, he did everything to earn the miserable end he met when, after the ferocious battle with Chalchiuhnene's relatives, he fell to his death down the staircase of the Tlatelolcan pyramid (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:138). Had Moquihuix been cleverer, Tlatelolco could still have had tlatocayotl when the Spaniards came—because Chalchiuhnene was not some local princess from a mediocre altepetl with a small military force. She belonged to the ruling dynasty of the powerful Tenochtitlan and reported her husband's behavior directly to the great tlatoani Axayacatl. In fact, according to the Crónica Mexicayotl, Chalchiuhnene was Axayacatl's elder sister.

Stories about the fall of Tlatelolco, recorded in numerous central Mexican sources, are among those troublesome Nahua narratives that place themselves somewhere between myth and history. On the one hand, some Nahua writers weave these stories into the format of historical annals and provide them with dates in both the Christian and Mesoamerican calendar systems. Others enrich them with details, such as genealogies, names, toponyms, or numbers, reinforcing our trust in their credibility. However, this “factual” content usually intertwines with prophecies, omens, divine interventions, and other rationally inexplicable events. This mixture caused much confusion to early Mesoamericanists who forced old Nahua texts into the modern Western understanding of “history.” Since then, other approaches have become more popular. One of them is to identify culturally recognizable elements and structures in the accounts, thereby getting closer, perhaps, to grasping the precontact Nahua concept of “history” or “tradition” (Graulich Reference Graulich, Ortiz de Montellano and de Montellano1997:8; Szoblik Reference Szoblik2020:335–336). Working within this paradigm, Oswaldo Chinchilla Mazariegos (Reference Chinchilla Mazariegos2011:85) finds in the story of Moquihuix's death symbolic elements characteristic of Mesoamerican sacred stories about the triumph of the Sun over its false imitator. He also contributes to our understanding of Chalchiuhnene's role in her husband's failure by classifying her as a woman equipped with a “toothed vagina.”

There is no doubt that Chalchiuhnene had an exceptional vagina. Various sources, among them the Crónica mexicana written around 1598 by Alvarado Tezozomoc (Reference Alvarado Tezozomoc, Migoyo and Chamorro2001:99) and the Anales de Cuauhtitlan (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:68), tell us that it uttered a prophecy about the fall of Tlatelolco. The latter text immediately precedes this information with a gruesome story about Moquihuix, who used to put his entire forearm into his wife's vagina and touch her from the inside. Why would the author of the Anales consider this an important detail to add to the account about the 1473 war of Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco? Nahua attitudes toward sex make it possible to explain his choice on two different levels. From the perspective of morality, this story can provide a post-factum justification for the Tenochcan invasion by portraying the Tlatelolcan tlatoani as a violator of the Aztec rule of moderate sexual behavior (Evans Reference Evans1998:175, 178). On the other hand, the Nahua predilection for moderation in sex had a firm grounding in religious beliefs and body ideology. According to the Nahua, sperm carried the vital essence of a man, and fathers warned their sons not to give themselves to women too much lest they dry out and die (Madajczak Reference Madajczak2017:376; Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 6, ch. 22, pp. 125–126). Twentieth-century ethnographic data expressly point to tonalli (hot animistic entity) as the essence that poured out of the body during ejaculation (López Austin Reference López Austin1984 [1980]:vol. I: 243). As a result, men had to approach sex with caution, knowing that it would make them weak for some time and that it could kill them in the long run.

The “toothed vagina,” a cultural motif of dangerous femininity, was tightly related to the belief about the effect sex had on men. Although older Nahua sources contain almost no direct references to this trope, it was so widespread in both colonial and modern Mesoamerican societies that this absence is most likely due to editorial factors, such as the concern of the friars to leave “indecent” content out (Báez-Jorge Reference Báez-Jorge2008:171; on the Mesoamerican “toothed vagina,” see also Báez-Jorge Reference Báez-Jorge2010; Balutet Reference Balutet, Hernández and Rodríguez-Shadow2011; Gingerich and Carr Reference Gingerich, Carr and Swann1983; López Hernández Reference López Hernández2013–2014, among others). However, some of Nahua's sacred stories can be interpreted using the “toothed vagina” concept. For example, Guilhem Olivier employs the corpus of Mesoamerican data to read the stories on the mutilated leg of the god Tezcatlipoca in this way. According to Olivier (Reference Olivier and Sule2004:466–471), the deity lost his foot in the volcano of Popocatepetl in a creative act of impregnation, after which the volcano started to emit smoke. Tezcatlipoca used his foot as an equivalent of the penis, penetrating the vagina of the earth with it and getting “castrated” by its fangs. Similarly, Chinchilla Mazariegos (Reference Chinchilla Mazariegos2011:96–97) suggests that the forearm of Moquihuix put deep into Chalchiuhnene's vagina refers metaphorically to a phallus about to be bitten off (see also Graulich Reference Graulich, Navarrete and Olivier2000:96). It is reminiscent of arms stuck inside the toothed vaginas of monstrous birds on the precontact Mayan stelae of Izapa and Copan that prove this motif to be of ancient Mesoamerican origin (Figures 6 and 7 in Chinchilla Mazariegos Reference Chinchilla Mazariegos2011:98).

Castration points to the loss of strength by the masculine victims of dangerous female figures. Castration by a “mouth,” on the other hand, resonates with a metaphorical conceptualization of copulation as eating: the Nahua used the reflexive verb mocua, “to eat each other,” with the sense of “to make love to each other” (López Hernández Reference López Hernández2013–2014:39; Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 6, ch. 27:156). The fact that Chalchiuhnene's vagina could talk—and talked about the upcoming fall of Tlatelolco—is another argument in favor of comparing it to a sinister mouth. Devoured by the gluttonous femininity of his wife, the strength of Moquihuix vanished, and with it went the vital power that protected and maintained his altepetl. Consequently, the terrifying details of the royal couple's intimate relations allude to Chalchiuhnene being the cause of the destruction of both Tlatelolco and its tlatoani (Chinchilla Mazariegos Reference Chinchilla Mazariegos2011:96–99).

When we think of Chalchiuhnene as armed with her toothed vagina, crushing the masculine strength of her husband, the perspective on who the victim of this marriage was changes entirely. Reading through various accounts of the central Mexican past, Chinchilla Mazariegos (Reference Chinchilla Mazariegos2011:99) finds other clues that lead to interpreting Chalchiuhnene as a dangerous, monstrous man-devouring female. He observes that another woman of that name, the wife of the Tetzcocan ruler Nezahualpilli, also fits into the “toothed-vagina” model of femininity, given that she used to kill her lovers right after seducing them. Katarzyna Szoblik follows this lead and discovers even more parallels between the two Chalchiuhnenes. Like the wife of Moquihuix, Nezahualpilli's spouse was the sister of a Tenochcan ruler, in this case—as a Mestizo historian Fernando de Alva Ixtlilxochitl (Reference Alva Ixtlilxochitl and Chamorro2000:235) claimed in early seventeenth century—Motecuhzoma Xocoyotl. Both royal sisters married the tlatoque of the cities with which Tenochtitlan had some unfinished business. Tlatelolco, unhappy with being excluded from the Triple Alliance that ruled the Valley of Mexico, attempted to gain more influence over the region by threatening the dominant position of Tenochtitlan under the reign of Axayacatl. Several decades later, Tetzcoco emerged as an obstacle in Motecuhzoma's plan of centralizing the power over the sizeable Aztec state in his own hands. As Szoblik (Reference Szoblik2020:338) suggests, sending women of destructive abilities to the altepetl of Tlatelolco and Tetzcoco could have been part of a more extensive campaign by the rulers of Tenochtitlan to either destroy or significantly weaken these cities. Like her Tetzcocan namesake, who could attend to countless lovers, the Tlatelolcan Chalchiuhnene embodied insatiable female sexuality because her needs remained unsatisfied by her husband. Regardless of whether the Tenochcan tlatoque intended to crush their opponents with the magical power of the two ladies, the sixteenth-century narratives deem this motif important because it reinforces the culturally recognized scheme of war and defeat.

The relationship between Chalchiuhnene of Tlatelolco and the ruler Axayacatl is very much like the relationship between the anonymous wife of Epcoatl and the ruler Tenocelotl of Colhuacan. Both tlatoque placed their metaphorical sisters in foreign courts, where the women spied on their husbands, navigating toward the failure of the unsuspecting men and the simultaneous victory of the princesses’ home altepetl. The term hueltiuh or, in the Spanish text of Fernando de Alva Ixtlilxochitl's history, hermana (sister), did not necessarily describe the real kinship bonds between the Chalchiuhnenes and the Tenochcan tlatoque. In some accounts, for example, the Anales de Cuauhtitlan, Chalchiuhnene is Axayacatl's daughter rather than a sister (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:68). I suggest this discrepancy arises from the Nahua tradition keepers’ original use of hueltiuh as a metaphor. By the time this oral tradition reached authors such as Chimalpahin or Alva Ixtlilxochitl, the term had been weaved into genealogies, and early historians used it like a genuine kinship term. Yet, if we restore the symbolic meaning of hueltiuh, it turns out that Chalchiuhnene could have been Axayacatl's daughter and “sister” at the same time.

Was Quetzalpetlatl a heart eater?

The masculinity-threatening Chalchiuhnenes of the stories centered around political struggles and wars had their even more terrifying counterparts in the Nahua times of origin. The story of origin known as the Legend of the Suns, written down by an anonymous Nahua author in 1558, introduces us to one of these bloodthirsty goddesses, Itzpapalotl (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:92–93). She enters the scene when two Mimixcoa (deities related to the god Mixcoatl) named Xiuhnel and Mimich go hunting in the desert. There, they spot a pair of two-headed deer and begin chasing them. After a long run, the exhausted deer stop and transform into women, who tempt the two hunters by offering them food and drink. Mimich resists, but Xiuhnel summons one of the women with an already familiar term: xihuallauh nohueltihue (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:93), “Come, my sister.” He does not have to repeat his invitation twice. The goddess-deer hands him a cup of blood, which he drinks, and the situation becomes intimate. Suddenly, amid the passionate tête-á-tête, she changes position, jumping on top of her lover, opening his chest sacrifice-like, and eating “him” (quicua), or, most likely, his heart. After this narrative blow—especially shocking for Xiuhnel, as we can imagine—one of the women begins to chase the surviving hunter, Mimich, who runs into the fire. The chase continues for some time and ends when she abruptly stumbles on a barrel cactus. Mimich takes this opportunity and shoots his immobilized persecutor, now finally called by her name of Itzpapalotl, with arrows. Then, he summons the lords of fire, who help him burn her.

This story, already analyzed by countless scholars, is extremely rich in culturally meaningful details and can be read from several perspectives. It has also survived in many versions, partly because it formed part of the Códice X, a lost nonalphabetic source, copied and transcribed by many early colonial authors (Castañeda de la Paz Reference Castañeda de la Paz2005). However, no version refers to the motif of the “toothed vagina” in such an overt way as the Legend of the Suns. Here, Itzpapalotl literally ate Xiuhnel while having sex with him. His fate was sealed from the moment he accepted the bloody potion the woman-deer offered him. As every Nahua boy learned from his father, it was unsafe to accept food or drink from suspicious women, given that it may have contained an aphrodisiac that caused excessive ejaculation, dangerously “drying” a man out (López Austin Reference López Austin1984 [1980]:vol. I, pp. 331–332; Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 6, ch. 22:125). When Xiuhnel drank the bloody potion, he anticipated a loss of vital powers, which came in the most brutal way imaginable. Like all the Nahua deities who fed themselves with the hearts of sacrificial victims, Itzpapalotl devoured the heart of Xiuhnel, appropriating everything that it contained: vital energy, hot tonalli, and maybe also consciousness, memory, and other critical functions of what we call a “mind” (López Austin Reference López Austin1984 [1980]:vol. II, pp. 225–233). In the double act of sex and eating, the tzitzimitl (a bloodthirsty female creature that would descend from the sky to prey on people), as the Legend calls her, “ingested” the entire vital strength of her victim. According to Nahua's beliefs, sexual intercourse could not harm her, at least not in the way it could harm the men. As an elderly lady once explained to the ruler Nezahualcoyotl, women could “receive what was being given to them” practically without limitation (Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 6, ch. 21, pp. 118–119).

The Nahuatl language had a name for a “heart eater”: teyollocuani, which meant just that. The Crónica Mexicayotl uses this term to describe Malinalxochitl, the patron-goddess of the Malinalca and sister (ihueltiuh) of Huitzilopochtli, the main god of the Mexica. The text's authors insert teyollocuani within a series of other epithets that revolve around harming people with magic, taking away their vitality, and possibly even causing their deaths (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:76–78; Graulich Reference Graulich1992:89–92). Among them is the term tecotzanani (leg taker), which was almost synonymous with “heart eater” because the Nahua believed that, like hearts, legs or calves contained a significant concentration of hot vital essence (López Austin Reference López Austin1984 [1980]:vol. I, pp. 185–186; Martínez González Reference Martínez González2011:356; Olivier Reference Olivier and Sule2004:421–424). Alvarado Tezozomoc (Reference Alvarado Tezozomoc, Migoyo and Chamorro2001:56) explains that a tecotzanani ate people's calves only by looking at them and without the victim feeling anything. In various Mesoamerican cultures, removing a man's leg symbolically equaled castrating him and, consequently, recalled the motif of a “toothed vagina” (Galinier Reference Galinier1984:45; Klein Reference Klein and Klein2001:234–235). Both heart eaters and leg takers were present in the lives of precontact and colonial Nahua as malevolent creatures who brought diseases onto people or even killed them. In 1629, a Spanish priest—Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón—working outside the Valley of Mexico, reported that the town of Coyuca had witnessed decimating epidemics caused by teyollocuanime (plural of teyollocuani) and other sorcerers who had used ashes brought by night birds for this purpose. At the same time, the sorcerers transformed into owls so that they could receive the deadly delivery (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:47). Malinalxochitl, too, had transformative powers; Alvarado Tezozomoc (Reference Alvarado Tezozomoc, Migoyo and Chamorro2001:56) claims that she could turn into any bird or animal of her liking.

From the epithets with which the Crónica Mexicayotl referred to Malinalxochitl, we can infer that she had much in common with Itzpapalotl and the Chalchiuhnenes. Although sixteenth-century texts do not mention her using the lethal power of female sexuality, she obtained the same results—draining the vitality out of people's most essential organs—with different measures. In the times of origin, Malinalxochitl belonged to a party of various peoples led by their patron-gods to lands where they would eventually settle. As time passed, migrating groups parted from the Mexica and headed in their own directions. When the Michhuaque abandoned the party to begin their journey toward Michoacan, the Mexica were left alone with the Malinalca, whose influence on the Mexica's vital strength, as we already know, was detrimental. One night, when Malinalxochitl and her people slept, Huitzilopochtli and his group decided to save themselves by quietly walking away. When the abandoned goddess woke up, she cried bitterly, but soon, she regained her grip and led the Malinalca to their destination. As we will later see, she still had an important role to play in the Mexica's history.

A narrative recorded by a Franciscan friar Juan de Torquemada (Reference Torquemada1975 [1615]:vol. I, bk. II, ch. II, pp. 116–117) in his Monarquía indiana completed in 1612, fascinatingly joins motifs from the Crónica Mexicayotl's story on Malinalxochitl and the adventures of Xiuhnel and Mimich described in the Legend of the Suns. The setting for the plot is once again vast lands through which the migrating Mexica move slowly toward future Tenochtitlan. Among them travels a woman named Quilaztli, “a great sorceress,” who can transform herself into anything of her liking. One day, she turns into an eagle, sits on top of a cactus, and—mocking the famous sign that inaugurated the construction of Tenochtitlan—shows herself to two “captains”: Xiuhnel and Mixcoatl. When they start to shoot her with arrows, she speaks to them: “Do not shoot me, for I am Quilaztli, your and your people's sister” (No me tiréis que yo soy Quilaztli, vuestra hermana y de vuestro pueblo [Torquemada Reference Torquemada1975 [1615]:vol. I, bk. II, ch. II:117]). On another occasion, she again confronts the two men, provoking them to fight and introducing herself with four names, among them, Tzitzimicihuatl (“tzitzimitl-woman”). This name specifically associates Quilaztli with Itzpapalotl, whom the Legend also classifies as a tzitzimitl, whereas Quilaztli's power to transform into an eagle makes her similar to Malinalxochitl. Various scholars (e.g., Mikulska Reference Mikulska2008:322–323; Olivier Reference Olivier and Sule2004:423) have already noted striking parallelism between these three goddesses. One of them, Graulich (Reference Graulich1992:92–95), interpreted the role of Itzpapalotl, Malinalxochitl, and Quilaztli as stopping the movement of masculine, solar Chichimec or Mexica migrants. As cold and aquatic or telluric creatures, these female deities constantly desired the fiery force of tonalli, which they devoured, leaving their victims weak, ill, or even dead (López Austin Reference López Austin1984 [1980]:vol. I: 248). All three were also “sisters” of the men, whose vital powers they absorbed. We could not anticipate this implication from previously discussed dangerous female spies who always pushed their metaphorical brothers to victory. But did the victims of the tzitzimime (plural of tzitzimitl), immobile or dead as they were, really fail? A story that begins with “Xiuhnel and Mimich went hunting in the desert” and concludes with “Mimich shot and burned Itzpapalotl” does look like a tale of revenge on a femme fatale. However, if we decided to extract a more significant chunk from the Legend of the Suns, the focus would change, and the male god would turn out victorious.

Let us, then, backtrack a little in the story told by the Legend of the Suns. The document describes how the 400 Mimixcoa—explicitly created, as it appears, to feed the Sun by sacrificing jaguars—fail to fulfill their task. Instead of working as dutiful priests, they spend their time sleeping with women and getting drunk. They are wasting the fiery essence needed to keep the world in motion. The system does not work; someone else must take over the responsibility. Five other Mimixcoa (including one named Mixcoatl), born later by the same mother as the 400, attack the idlers, kill them, and are finally able to feed the Sun properly. Among the few Mimixcoa survivors are Xiuhnel and Mimich; the former soon gives his vital force away to Itzpapalotl (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:92–93).

The Anales de Cuauhtitlan offers another version of the same story. Here, the 400 Mimixcoa are leading the Chichimec, who have just emerged from their place of origin. On their way, they encounter Itzpapalotl, who rushes toward them and eats all the 400 save for the White Mixcoatl, who escapes inside a barrel cactus. In both sources, therefore, Itzpapalotl incorporates the vital force of one or more Mimixcoa. At this point, the story in the Anales begins to run even more parallel to the text of the Legend. When Itzpapalotl seizes the cactus, Mixcoatl (in the Legend of the Suns, Mimich) jumps out of it and shoots her with arrows. He then calls to the dead Mimixcoa (in the Legend of the Suns, the lords of fire) for help, and together they burn her. Both sources now mention the creation of a tlaquimilolli. In Molly Bassett's words (Reference Bassett2015:178), tlaquimilolli were artifacts that “bundled the complete set of things that composed the deity's transfigured body.” They were relics of patron-gods, through which the deities protected the altepetl, securing the existence of their people and granting them, among other things, success on the battlefield (López Austin Reference López Austin1989 [1973]:58–59). Many Nahua sacred stories tell us of how, in times of origin, various gods and goddesses died and how their wrapped-up remains formed force-filled bundles. The Legend of the Suns is no different. Here, Mixcoatl takes one of the five flints that emerge from Itzpapalotl's funeral pyre and wraps it up (Bierhorst Reference Bierhorst2011 [1992]:3, 93; cf. Bassett Reference Bassett2015:174–176). In this way, the force possessed initially by the Mixcoa returns, via their “sister,” Itzpapalotl, to the god Mixcoatl, who then carries the tlaquimilolli into battle as a “weapon” that grants him victory.

Similarly, the force of the Mexica and their god Huitzilopochtli, first absorbed by Malinalxochitl, then returned to them in the heart of the goddess's son, Copil. The young man, conceived when still on the road, grows up to seek revenge on Huitzilopochtli for abandoning his mother. However, the result of the fight with the invincible god of the Mexica is easy to predict: Copil dies. Huitzilopochtli cuts off his head and rips his heart out of his chest. By the god's order, one of his priests throws the heart among the sedges and reeds (Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Alvarado Tezozomoc, Migoyo and Chamorro2001:55–58; Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:76–89). Many years later, it sprouts, and when the Mexica come looking for a place to build Tenochtitlan, they see a famous scene of an eagle devouring a snake while sitting on the tenochtli cactus that has grown from Copil's heart (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:103). Consequently, the vital strength of Huitzilopochtli, unwillingly given away to Malinalxochitl during the migration stage, becomes the foundation for the sedentary altepetl of the Mexica.

To this corpus of stories, in which gods’ “sisters” act as mediators who carry the sacred force of their divine “brothers” (or the altepetl of the “brothers”), we can add yet another one: the story about the birth of Huitzilopochtli. One of its versions is recorded in the monumental Florentine Codex, put together by Fray Bernardino de Sahagún in the years 1578–1579 from the materials written by his Nahua collaborators over the span of 30 years (Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:vol. 1, pp. 10–15). The event occurs on the mountain of Coatepec, where the goddess Coatlicue lives with her sons, the 400 Huitznahua, and their sister (inhueltiuh), Coyolxauhqui. One day, when Coatlicue is sweeping, a ball of feathers falls on her and impregnates her. Her children are not happy about this; driven by shame, they decide to kill their mother. They do not know that she is not carrying an ordinary baby. Although still in Coatlicue's womb, Huitzilopochtli communicates with his ally, who informs him about every move of the 400 led by Coyolxauhqui. Finally, when the 400 come close, the mighty god emerges, all grown up, fully armed, and prepared for war. He pierces Coyolxauhqui with his fiery weapon—the xiuhcoatl (fire serpent)—cuts off her head, and pushes her down to the feet of Coatepec, where her body smashes into pieces. Then, in a ferocious battle, he massacres the Huitznahua, of whom only a few escape death, and appropriates their attire (Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 3, ch. 1, pp. 1–5). In another version of this story, offered by the Crónica Mexicayotl, Huitzilopochtli eats the hearts of both the Huitznahua and Coyolxauhqui, who, in this text, is Huitzilopochtli's mother, but still the sister of the 400 (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:82).

The story, as told by the Florentine Codex and the Crónica Mexicayotl, contains many familiar tropes. It revolves around three main characters (one of them multiplied): the 400, the male deity related to them, and the goddess he defeats. As Cecelia Klein (Reference Klein1994:227) argues, the death of Coyolxauhqui at the hands of Huitzilopochtli symbolized the political success of the Mexica. This victory, as in all the above-discussed examples, brings the masculine god even more power because he appropriates the vital strength of his opponent. In the story about Malinalxochitl, Huitzilopochtli does this by providing his altepetl with the heart of his “sister's” son. In contrast, in the story about Coyolxauhqui, he either eats the hearts of his enemies or takes over their attire (the Nahua believed that the garments of rulers and deities—like their hearts—contained their tonalli [Olko Reference Olko2014:314]). Some authors (Castañeda de la Paz Reference Castañeda de la Paz2005:195; Graulich Reference Graulich1992:89–94; Johansson Reference Johansson1999:92–96) have proposed that the narratives about the god Mixcoatl represent an ancient “Chichimec” corpus that the Mexica later reinterpreted, substituting Huitzilopochtli for the god of hunting but keeping some key elements almost intact. Therefore, even though the sister (and maybe also “sister”) of the Huitznahua, Coyolxauhqui, did not suck the vital strength out of her “brothers’” veins as did the “sister” of the Mixcoa, Itzpapalotl, the grand finale is the same for all the unfortunate siblings. The male god always incorporates the force of the 400 and their “sister.” In the story of Huitzilopochtli's birth, Coyolxauhqui may not eat or seduce her “brothers.” Still, she implicitly fulfills the same mediating role as Itzpapalotl or Malinalxochitl in the other accounts, temporarily carrying the force of her “brothers.”

Or was Quetzalpetlatl just a seducer?

The final example that sheds light on Quetzalpetlatl and other Nahua “sisters” is a story about the origins of scorpions featuring Xochiquetzal—the beautiful goddess of flowers, fertility, and carnal love. Once upon a time, there was a man named Yappan, who wished to change into a scorpion and become so powerful that he could kill with his sting. To make this happen, he started to observe nezahualiztli (abstinence) (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:206), a Nahua ritual that put people into a liminal state, making them physically similar to otherworldly beings. Because nezahualiztli allowed for contact with the time-space of origin—the source of all creative potential—people typically observed it during transformation-focused rites of passage (Madajczak Reference Madajczak2024). Acting in line with the usual practice, Yappan went into seclusion and dutifully abstained from sexual relations. The person who accompanied him in his efforts was a guard named Yaotl, bearing one of the names often used for the god Tezcatlipoca. Although Ruiz de Alarcón, who wrote this story down, does not suggest this overtly, we can presume that this guard did not really support his protégé and that he only stood by his side to do his job as a trickster by messing around with Yappan's plan. Be it by the intervention of Yaotl or some other circumstances, women started to visit the secluded rock where Yappan was trying to live in chastity (to use Ruiz de Alarcón's Christian term—one of several with which this author rewrites a story told to him by his Indigenous parishioners). When he resisted the temptation, two goddesses, who feared the power this man would get if he changed into a scorpion, sent Xochiquetzal to him. She arrived at the rock and said, “My brother, Yappan, I have come. I am your sister (nimohueltiuh) I am Xochiquetzal” (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:204). If the scorpion-to-be had known the story about Xiuhnel and Itzpapalotl, he would have probably been long gone before Xochiquetzal finished saying “sister.” Unfortunately for him, he decided to stay. Like Itzpapalotl, Xochiquetzal climbed on top of him, and although she did not rip his heart out, she managed to break his nezahualiztli before it could bring the desired results. Right after the moment of sexual pleasure, Yaotl, who witnessed it, carried out the transformation by cutting off Yappan's head. Yappan became a scorpion, but at the same time, he failed: he would never be able to kill people (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:204–205).

Xochiquetzal descended to Yappan like a proper tzitzimitl (Szoblik Reference Szoblik2020:339). She came from the sky, as we might guess by the identity of one of the goddesses who sent her, Citlalcueye, identified by Ruiz de Alarcón as the Milky Way (the other goddess was Chalchiuhcueye, Water) (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:204). Possibly, Tezcatlipoca also played some part in the plot. In another story, included in the sixteenth-century Relación de Meztitlan , this god helped people in a parallel way: debilitating the effects of alcohol by sacrificing its deity, Ome Tochtli (Olivier Reference Olivier and Sule2004:223). Yappan's adventure with Xochiquetzal, as told by Ruiz de Alarcón, contains many hints that point to the scorpion's loss of strength as the narrative's focus. Not only does he fail to complete his abstinence period, but the failure consists of engaging in sex with a tzitzimitl-like goddess and with her on top—precisely like the unfortunate Xiuhnel of the Legend of the Suns. As we already know, such carelessness ends with the life force abandoning the man's body. Finally, the text calls Xochiquetzal “Yappan's sister,” activating a broad spectrum of associations, which, in this context, must lead to a toothed-vagina masculine-force-incorporating model of femininity. In the corresponding curing ritual, the physician identifies himself with Xochiquetzal and simulates sex with the patient, covering them with a garment (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:207–208; Sigal Reference Sigal2011:8). In this way, the physician reenacts the origin story, “reminding” the poison that it cannot kill because its powers have once and for all been deactivated (Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:300–302). Once again, a hungry “sister” leaves her “brother” weak and incapacitated.

“Man's sister”: A model

Various “sisters” (hueltihuan) have paraded through this article. The “sisters” of either an altepetl or its ruler were princesses sent by a less important city-state to marry a powerful tlatoani, which provided an opportunity for a profitable alliance. The examples of the anonymous princess of Cuauhtitlan and Chalchiuhnene of Tlatelolco show that they could also act as spies during the war. Nahuatl texts describe how the Cuauhtitlan lady and Chalchiuhnene of Tlatelolco symbolically or magically destroyed their royal husbands and these rulers’ altepetl. To grant their own people victory, the former set the main temple of sieged Toltitlan on fire, and the latter devoured the masculine strength of the Tlatelolcan ruler Moquihuix. The “toothed vagina” of Chalchiuhnene of Tlatelolco introduced yet another kind of “sister.” While female spies established contact between two altepetl for the benefit of their metaphorical brothers, monstrous heart-eating goddesses also acted as mediators but destroyed their divine “brothers” in the process. Xiuhnel, related to the god Mixcoatl, had to die so that Mixcoatl could subsequently fabricate a sacred bundle of the remains of Xiuhnel's “sister,” Itzpapalotl. In the same vein, Huitzilopochtli's “sister,” Malinalxochitl, first sucked the blood out of Huitzilopochtli's people, the Mexica, before Huitzilopochtli could use her son's heart to set the foundation for the city of Tenochtitlan. The final mediator was Xochiquetzal, the “sister” of Yappan, sent to him by goddesses who wanted to debilitate him. She fulfilled the task, bringing destruction to Yappan the scorpion by canceling his abstinence. Spies, toothed-vagina females, heart eaters, and damaging seducers. In Nahuatl texts, all these characters received the “sister” (hueltiuh) label. So, what did it mean to be a “man's sister” (hueltiuh) in the metaphorical language of the Nahua?

Cognitive linguistics provides a helpful tool to answer this question. In the book Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things, George Lakoff (Reference Lakoff1987:74–76). explained how the cognitive approach differed from the insight offered by the classical theory of classification. This theory, which had also worked its way to cultural anthropology, especially structuralism, stated that people classified items as belonging to the same class based on a shared characteristic (e.g., Douglas Reference Douglas1999 [1975]). According to the classical approach, we should look for one common feature in metaphorical sisters’ relations with their “brothers,” which simply does not exist. Instead, the relationship described with the term “sister” has a range of aspects (such as tonalli eating, mediation, castration, immobilization, and sexual dominance), which appear in various combinations, depending on the case. Lakoff called this phenomenon a “cluster model” and explained it quite conveniently for a kinship term–oriented study such as this one, using the example of the American concept of “mother.” This concept includes several cognitive models of motherhood: giving birth, contributing genetic material, raising the child, being married to the child's father, and being the child's closest female ancestor. When we say “mother,” we can refer to any of these models, and usually only through context (or an added epithet) can our audience infer whether we mean “biological mother,” “adoptive mother,” “surrogate mother,” or any other kind of mother. As a result, there is no such thing as one real or primary definition of “mother”: all the models function together in the language, and each can serve as a basis to form metaphors. Lakoff (Reference Lakoff1987:76) gave two examples: the proverb “necessity is the mother of invention” uses the birth model, whereas the derived verb “to mother” arises from the nurturance or raising model. By saying “he wants his girlfriend to mother him,” we do not mean that the man wants her to give birth to him (biological mother) or to be his father's wife (stepmother). However, although in this particular context, we refer to taking care of the boyfriend in a specific way, the other cognitive models of “mother” are still there, ready to be employed in the proper situation.

Cognitive linguistics has recently increasingly begun to inspire scholars working with Mesoamerican data. Building on her analysis of modern Nahua rituals, Danièle Dehouve approached Lakoff's cluster models from another angle, focusing on the relationship between two concepts that originated in rhetoric—metaphor and metonymy—but which she understands as cognitive processes. In her view, “metonymy rests on metaphor,” while at the same time, “metaphor rests on metonymy” (Danièle Dehouve Reference Dehouve, Good and Raby2015:52; since then, Dehouve [Reference Dehouve2022] refined her understanding of metonymy and synecdoche). The latter observation leads to a similar kind of analysis as identifying various cognitive models that feed the complex concept of “mother.” Dehouve demonstrated it using the example of the metaphor “man is a lion.” To make this metaphor functional, one must first establish the metonymical catalog of lion attributes, such as mane, tail, fangs, courage, and ferocity. Then, one needs to select one or more attributes possessed by the man who is the object of comparison. However, we must be aware that metaphorical and metonymical processes occur only within the conceptual framework available to this particular culture. In other words, although the English-speaking world commonly considers lions courageous (while foxes are treacherous and donkeys are stubborn), these animals may have completely different attributes in other cultures. By the same token, the construction of kinship concepts, such as “mother” and “sister,” will rest on different cognitive models, depending on the culture. A striking example is the Western model of the mother as a contributor of genetic material, which could not have existed among the precontact Nahua because they did not know the concept of a “gene.”

Recent studies on the central Mexican graphic communication system, employed, among others, in codices, provide an exemplary analysis of a precontact Nahua concept that matches the approach of Lakoff and Dehouve. According to Katarzyna Mikulska (Reference Mikulska and Mikulska2020:349–353, 379–394), in the divinatory codices, patterns drawn on colored surfaces were signs that carried meaning that was additional to the objects’ shape, size, or context. One of her examples is the pattern of red dots on a yellow background. Mikulska identified it in a precontact codex known as Vaticanus B on the following items: cut-off flesh or parts of the body, internal organs, flayed skin, bones (or to be exact, remains of rotting flesh on bones), intestines, excrement, flowers, animal beaks and mouths, animal paws, hands, feet, and female breasts. There is no single attribute that all these things have in common. Yet, each of them shares a set of characteristics with several others. Cut-off flesh, bones, internal organs, intestines, and flayed skin (seen from the inside out) lack a protecting cover (skin), so their fleshy, bloody surfaces remain exposed. Perhaps Mesoamericans perceived animal beaks, mouths, and paws in a parallel way: as delicate and skinless. Another attribute shared within the group is stench: flayed skin, excrement, pieces of rotting flesh attached to bones, and flowers emit this. According to the Nahua worldview, the first flowers, created from a piece of flesh ripped off Xochiquetzal's vagina, stank until the lord of the dead took them to his realm (mictlan) to wash them. Like flowers, bones, flayed skin, and internal organs were closely associated with the world of the dead, as were cut-off hands and feet, which constituted the food of Mictlantecuhtli, the ruler of mictlan. Finally, flowers, similarly to breasts, were parts of the female body, and both contained nectar or milk.

Mikulska's analysis clearly shows that the graphic sign “red-dots-on-yellow” applied to a group of qualities rather than one uniform signifié. Like various models of the American concept of “mother,” items described with the red-dots-on-yellow pattern shared some, but not all, of these qualities. Some skinless parts of the body stank; some stinking things belonged to the realm of death; some death-related items were associated with femininity; and so on. A chain of associations informed by culturally conditioned logic allowed the Nahua mind to group beaks, breasts, excrement, and flowers into one category. Obviously, we can safely consider some of the qualities listed here (such as the unpleasant smell of rotting flesh) to have originated in nature or universal human experience. Others, however—such as the association of flowers with stench, female sexual parts, and death—can only be grasped by those familiar with the corpus of Nahua sacred stories (Mikulska Reference Mikulska and Mikulska2020:388–394). In the same vein, only through Nahua narratives can we understand the link between various women described as “men's sisters” (hueltihuan) and attempt to reconstruct the “cluster model” of hueltiuh.

Nahua kinship terminology formed a system, and its systemic aspect filtered into the realm of kinship-based metaphors. The metaphoric usage of the term hueltiuh covers only one side of the relationship between men and their sisters. In Nahuatl, a relative is almost always “someone's relative;” in this case, “sisters” have their metaphorical brothers, described with the term oquichtiuh (“woman's elder brother or cousin”). The hueltiuh/oquichtiuh pair is interesting for several reasons. Both terms have the same unusual morphological construction, in which a morpheme of unknown function, ti, stands between the noun root and the possessive suffix -uh (cf. Carochi Reference Carochi and Lockhart2001:302, n4). Moreover, Molina (Reference Molina1977 [1571]:vol. II, f. 111v, 157r) and Carochi (Reference Carochi and Lockhart2001:302) claim that both hueltiuh and oquichtiuh refer to relatively older siblings, which the usage of these terms with their primary (i.e., nonmetaphorical) meanings in Nahuatl texts further confirms. However, in the metaphorical register, age relativity seems to disappear. As the Florentine Codex suggests, Coyolxauhqui is the Huitznahua's “elder sister” (inhueltiuh), while they, at the same time, are her “elder brothers” (noquichtihuan) (Sahagún Reference Sahagún, Anderson and Dibble1950–1982:bk. 3, ch. 1:2). Similarly, Huitzilopochtli is the “elder brother” of his “elder sister,” Malinalxochitl, and Yappan is the “elder brother” of his “elder sister,” Xochiquetzal (Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin and Alvarado Tezozomoc Reference Chimalpahin Cuauhtlehuanitzin, de Alvarado Tezozomoc, Schroeder and Anderson1997:84; Ruiz de Alarcón Reference Ruiz de Alarcón, Richard Andrews and Hassig1987:204). Therefore, the terms hueltiuh and oquichtiuh are parallel both morphologically and in that they describe two sides of the same metaphorical relationship. Hueltiuh is a woman who does her “sisterly” thing to her metaphorical elder brother, whereas oquichtiuh is a man who bears the consequences of the “sisterly” behavior. “Sisters” get married, spy, eat hearts, and seduce, whereas “brothers” benefit from their marriages, win wars, die, and give away their force.

We can interpret the Nahua concept of hueltiuh as an example of Lakoff's (Reference Lakoff1987:74–76) cluster model: there are several models of “man's sister” (rulers’ wives, spies, heart-eaters, owners of toothed vaginas, and seducers). Some of these models share one or more characteristics with other models, which allows them to be arranged in a chain of logically associated concepts and finally included in the single category of hueltiuh. At the same time, what seems to govern the classification of various men as “women's elder brothers” is simply the fact that they are objects of the agency of hueltihuan. Also, the metaphorical usage of the term oquichtiuh in Nahuatl sources is less frequent than the metaphorical usage of hueltiuh. In this pair, the role of an “elder brother” seems to be secondary and passive, unlike that of his “elder sister,” who takes the leading role. Consequently, it would be tempting to claim that the metaphorical relationship between hueltiuh and oquichtiuh opposed traditional Western gender roles. However, if we read the sources carefully, it will become clear that at least some of the “brothers” mentioned in this article were not that passive: political elites actively planned the marriages of their “sisters” to establish desired alliances. In the otherworld or othertime, gods used their hueltihuan as vehicles that helped the sacred force circulate. Although men often inspired the actions of their “sisters,” and women acted as mediators of different kinds, both sides of this metaphorical relationship fulfilled important roles, and positioning them in a hierarchy could result in a degraded understanding of the metaphors hueltiuh and oquichtiuh.