Part 21

Sometimes these parts of tales are in an archaic form, or in a foreign language, so that they may be quite unintelligible. Their impressiveness rests on the form and the general emotional trend of the passages in which they occur.

When such passages are discourse they are probably the best material for the study of literary style.

From these remarks let us turn to a few general characteristics of literary style, first of all to a consideration of rhythm and repetition.

The investigation of primitive narrative as well as of poetry proves that repetition, particularly rhythmic repetition, is one of its fundamental, esthetic traits.

It is not easy to form a just opinion regarding the rhythmic character of formal prose; in part because the rhythmic sense of primitive people is much more highly developed than our own. The simplification of the rhythm of modern folk song, and of poetry intended to appeal to popular taste, has dulled our feeling for rhythmic form. I have referred to this question before when discussing the complexity of rhythm in decorative art. It requires careful study to understand the structure of primitive rhythm, more so in prose than in song, because in this case the help of the melodic pattern is lacking.

Rhythmic repetition of contents and form is found commonly in primitive narrative. For example, the tales of the Chinook Indians are often so constructed that five brothers, one after another, have the same adventure. The four elder ones perish while the youngest one emerges safe and successful. The tale is repeated verbatim for all the brothers, and its length, which to our ear and to our taste is intolerable, probably gives pleasure by the repeated form.[125] Conditions are quite similar in European fairy tales relating to the fates of three brothers, two of whom perish or fail in their tasks, while the youngest one succeeds. Similar repetitions are found in the German tale of Redridinghood, in the widely spread European story of the rooster who goes to bury his mate, or in the story of the three bears. In Oriental tales the incidents of the tale are sometimes repeated verbatim being retold by one of the heroes.

[125] Franz Boas, Chinook Texts, Bull. Bur. of Ethnol. Washington D. C., (1894), pp. 9 et seq.

A few additional examples taken from the narratives of foreign people will illustrate the general occurrence of the tendency to repetition. In the Basuto tale called Kumonngoe a man leads his daughter into the wilderness where she is to be devoured by a cannibal. On the way he meets three animals and the son of a chief. In each case the same conversation ensues. “Where are you leading your daughter?”—“Ask herself, she is grown up.” She replies:

“I have given to Hlabakoane, Kumonngoe,[126] To the herd of our cattle Kumonngoe I thought our cattle were going to stay in the kraal, Kumonngoe, And so I gave him my father’s Kumonngoe.”

[126] The girl had a brother named Hlabakoane, to whom she had given a magical food, called Kumonngoe, that belonged to her father and that the girl had been forbidden to touch. E. Jacottet, The Treasury of Basuto Lore, Vol. 1, (1908), p. 114.

In an Omaha tale[127] of a Snake-Man it is related that a man flees from a serpent. Three helpers in succession give him moccasins which, on the following morning return of their own accord to their owners, and every time the same conversation is repeated. When the serpent goes in pursuit it asks every animal for information in exactly the same words. In a tradition of the Kwakiutl of Vancouver Island the same formula is repeated forty times together with the description of the same ceremonial. In the tales of the Pueblo Indians the same incident is repeated four times as happening to four sisters; the yellow, red, blue, and white girls. In a Siberian tale of the Hare we hear that a hunter hides under the branches of a fallen willow tree. One hare after another appears in order to browse, espies the hunter and runs away. In a Papua tale from New Guinea the birds come one after another and try to peck open the stomach of a drowned person so as to let run out the water that he has swallowed. Still more markedly appears this type of repetition in a tale from New Ireland. The birds try to throw the casuary off from the branch of a tree on which he is perched. In order to accomplish this, one after another alights on the same branch next to the casuary but nearer the trunk. Thus he is compelled to move out farther and farther until finally he drops down.

[127] James Owen Dorsey, The Thegiha Language, Contributions to North American Ethnology, Vol. VI, (1890), Washington D. C., p. 284.

Much more striking are the rhythmic repetitions in songs. Polynesian genealogies offer an excellent example. Thus we find in Hawaii the following song:[128]

Lii-ku-honua, the man, Ola-ku-honua, the woman, Kumo-honua, the man, Lalo-honua, the woman,

and so on through sixteen pairs.

[128] Fornander Collection of Hawaiian Antiquities and Folk-lore. Mem. Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, Vol. VI, Honolulu, (1919), p. 365.

Or in a cradlesong of the Kwakiutl Indians:[129]

“When I am a man, then I shall be a hunter, o father! ya ha ha ha. When I am a man, then I shall be a harpooneer, o father! ya ha ha ha. When I am a man, then I shall be a canoe-builder, o father! ya ha ha ha. When I am a man, then I shall be a carpenter, o father! ya ha ha ha. When I am a man, then I shall be an artisan, o father! ya ha ha ha. That we may not be in want, o father, ya ha ha ha.”

[129] Franz Boas, Ethnology of the Kwakiutl, 35th An. Rep. Bur. Am. Ethn., Washington, 1921, p. 1310.

In the Eskimo song of the raven and the geese, the raven sings:[130]

Oh, I am drowning, help me! Oh, now the waters reach my great ankles. Oh, I am drowning, help me! Oh, now the waters reach my great knees.

and so on through all the parts of the body, up to the eyes.

[130] W. Thalbitzer, The Ammassalik Eskimo, Meddelelser om Grønland, Vol. XL, p. 211. Compare before p. 309, for a similar formula from Cumberland Sound.

Quite remarkable is the analogy between this song and the following Australian war song:

Spear his forehead Spear his chest Spear his liver Spear his heart, etc.

Rhythmic variations of a similar type develop also in oratory when a number of persons are addressed in the same formal way: As an example may serve the following address in a Kwakiutl speech:

Now you will witness, Northerners,[131] the dance of Many-on-Fire, the Daughter of Giver-of-Presents, Now you will witness, Great Kwakiutl,[131] the dance of Many-on-Fire, the Daughter of Giver-of-Presents, Now you will witness, Rich Side,[131] the dance of Many-on-Fire, the Daughter of Giver-of-Presents,

[131] These are names of tribes, Columbia Contributions to Anthropology, III, p. 140.

or:

“I have come Northerners; I have come Great Kwakiutl, I have come Rich Side.”[132]

[132] Ibid., p. 142.

The repetitions discussed so far are rhythmic in form, varied in contents. They may be compared to an orderly succession of decorative motives that agree in the plan of the unit, but vary in details. In poetry rhythmic repetitions of identical formal units are frequent. These occur in all songs without words, consisting of vocables only. An example of this is a Kwakiutl canoe song in which every syllable is sung with one stroke of the paddles:

Aw, ha ya ha ya hä ha ya he ya ä he ya ha ya ä A, ha ya ha ya hä aw, ha ya he ya hä he ya ha ya hei ya hä hä hä wo wo wo.

They are also found in introductions to many songs in which the tune is carried by vocables as an introduction to the words of the song:[133]

Mai hamama. Haimama hamamai hamamamai. Hamama hamamayamai Haimama hamamai hamamamai.

[133] The Social Organization and the Secret Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians; Rep. U. S. National Mus. for 1895, Washington, 1897, p. 703.

Rhythm is not confined to the larger units, but is applied as an artistic device in the detailed structure. In exhortative speech some tribes develop a rhythmic form by adding a strongly accented syllable to each word. The Kwakiutl use the strongly accented ending ai for this purpose and I may imitate the impression of their speech by saying, Welcome-ai! brothers-ai! at my feast-ai! Here the time for each word group ending in _ai_ is approximately equal, or the words leading up to the ending _ai_ are at least pronounced with great rapidity when they contain a longer phrase.

In the recital of myths rhythmic structure is sometimes attained by the addition of meaningless syllables that transform the recital into a chant. Thus the Fox Indians will add in the recital of the Culture Hero legend, the syllables nootchee, nootchee. A. L. Kroeber and Leslie Spier tell us that the myths of Southern California are chanted. Edward Sapir has observed the Song recitative in Paiute mythology, each animal speaking according to a definite rhythm and tune to which the text is adjusted.[134] I have recorded an Eskimo tale from Cumberland Sound in which the travels of the hero are recorded in a chant with interspersed melodic phrases.[135] In wails the repetition of the formal cry of moaning at short intervals and the rapid, even pronunciation of the recital creates rhythmic structure.

[134] Song Recitative in Paiute Mythology, Journal American Folk-lore, Vol. 23, pp. 455 et seq.

[135] F. Boas, Bull. A. M. N. H. Vol. 15, pp. 335, 340, tune in Sixth Annual Report Bureau of Ethnology, p. 655, no. 13.

Much stricter than in prose is the rhythmic structure of song. It is often assumed that regularity of musical rhythm, which is found in most primitive music, is due to the multiplicity of motor actions connected with the music, particularly to the close relation between music and dance. It is true that primitive song is often accompanied by movements of the body,—a swinging of the whole trunk, movements of head, feet, and arms; hand clapping and stamping; but it is an error to assume that for these the same synchronism prevails to which we are accustomed. With us the stamping and clapping of hands coincides with the accent of the song. Some tribes innervate so that the innervation for the articulation and for the movement of hands or feet coincide. This habit has the effect of letting the clapping, drumming, or stamping follow the accent of the song. It is also not a rare occurrence that the rhythmic pattern of body movements and of song are not homologous, but that they are interrelated in different ways or sometimes even seem to be quite independent. Negro music as well as that of Northwest America offers many examples of this kind.

Although the problem involved in the structure of primitive poetry is better understood now than it was a few years ago, and although many energetic efforts are being made to obtain adequate collections, the material for the study of this subject is still quite insufficient. Travellers are rarely trained in the art of recording songs and are apt to give us only the simplest forms that offer the least difficulties, or to summarize their observations in descriptions that are altogether too often misleading. Exact observations show that rhythmic complexity is quite common. Regular rhythms consist of from two to seven parts, and much longer groupings occur without recognizable regularity of rhythmic structure. Their repetition in a series of verses proves that they are fixed units.

On account of the physiologically determined emotional quality of rhythm it enters into all kinds of activities that are in any way related to emotional life. Its exciting effect manifests itself in religious songs and dances. Its compelling control may be observed in war songs; its soothing effect appears in melodies; its esthetic value is seen in song and decorative art. The origin of rhythm must not be looked for in religious and social activities but the effect of rhythm is akin to the emotional states connected with them and, therefore, arouses them and is aroused by them.

I believe the great variety of forms in which rhythmic repetition of the same or similar elements is used, in prose and in poetry as a rhythm of time, in decorative art as a rhythm of space,—shows that Bücher’s theory according to which all rhythm is derived from the movements accompanying work cannot be maintained, certainly not in its totality. Wundt derives the rhythm of the songs used in ceremonies from the dance, that of the working song from the movements required in the performance of work,—a theory practically identical with that proposed by Bücher, since the movements of the dance are quite homologous to those of work. There is no doubt that the feeling for rhythm is strengthened by dance and the movements required in the execution of work, not only in the common work of groups, of individuals who must try to keep time, but also in industrial work, such as basketry or pottery that require in their execution regularly repeated movements. The repetitions in prose narrative as well as the rhythms of decorative art, so far as they are not required by the technique, are proof of the inadequacy of the purely technical explanation. The pleasure given by regular repetition in embroidery, painting, and the stringing of beads cannot be explained as due to technically determined, regular movements, and there is no indication that would suggest that this kind of rhythm developed later than the one determined by motor habits.

It is a precarious undertaking to discuss the characteristics of primitive poetic forms, partly because so little reliable material is available, but partly also on account of the impossibility of obtaining a fair insight into the meaning and value of literary expression without an intimate knowledge of the language and culture in which they have come into being. For this reason I shall base the following remarks principally upon observations of the Kwakiutl tribe, a tribe with whose language and culture I am familiar. It would be unjustifiable to generalize and to claim that the traits that I am going to discuss are characteristic of all primitive literature. On the contrary, as our knowledge of primitive literature expands, individuality of style will certainly be found to prevail. Still it seems likely that features which are analogous to our own literary devices may disclose general tendencies.

Emphasis of salient points is used extensively in Kwakiutl prose and song. Stress is most frequently given by repetition. I give a few examples culled from speeches: “Indeed, indeed, true are the words of the song, of my song, sung for you, tribe.”[136]

[136] Contributions to the Ethnology of the Kwakiutl, Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology, Vol. 3, p. 194, line 25.

“He is a kind chief who is kind, speaking kindly to those who have him for a chief.”[137]

[137] Ibid., p. 258, line 24.

“Now is finished the song of my chief. Finished is the great one.”[138]

[138] Ibid., p. 268, line 25.

“Now you will give the name Great-Inviter to Inviter who has come out of her room, her who has been made a princess, her who is all over a princess on account of this that has been done by this chief who has her for a princess.”[139]

[139] Ibid., p. 308, line 3.

In songs repetitions are much more frequent than in speech. I give a few examples:

“Wa, out of the way! Waw haw hawa, Wa, out of the way! Ah, do not in vain ask for mercy, Waw haw hawa! Ah, do not in vain ask for mercy and raise your hands.”[140]

[140] Ethnology of the Kwakiutl, Thirty-fifth Annual Report Bur. Am. Ethn., p. 1288.

Another example is the following:

“I am the only great tree in the world, I the chief: I am the only great tree in the world, I the chief.

I am the great chief who vanquishes, Ha, ha, I am the great chief who vanquishes, Ha, ha!”[141]

[141] Ibid., p. 1290.

Emphasis may be obtained by placing the word to be emphasized at the end of one phrase and by beginning the next phrase with the same word.

There are also many emphatic particles. The closing _ai_ referred to before, used in exhortative oratory, belongs to this group. Verbal affixes meaning “really”, “indeed”, and the like are used informal speech to give proper strength to the whole expression. In a wail a woman chants: “Haha, hanane, now really I do this, I remember my real past forefathers and really my great grandfathers and now really I will go on with my family-myth here, telling of this, of my beginning in the beginning of the world, of the chief who come up in this world, haha, hanane; and really this was my ancestor who really was going about spouting.”[142]

[142] Ibid., p. 836.

In Africa the telling of a story is enlivened by affirmative exclamations of the audience. When the narrator says, “The turtle killed the leopard,” the audience will repeat, clapping their hands, “The leopard, the leopard.”

Emphasis is also given by an accumulation of synonyms. Alternate terms are often used in this manner and in the original they often have an added rhythmical value on account of the homology of their form. Thus the Kwakiutl sings in a laudatory chant: “I greatly fear our chief, oh tribes! I tremble on account of this great means of trying to cause fear, of this great means of trying to cause terror, of this greatest cause of terror.”[143]

[143] Ibid., p. 1287.

“I shall break, I shall let disappear the great Copper, the property of the great foolish one, the great extravagant one, the great surpassing one, the one farthest ahead, the greatest Spirit-of-the-Woods among the chiefs.”[144]

[144] By “copper” is meant one of the valuable plates of copper that are considered the “highest” kind of property. The “Spirit-of-the-Woods” is the symbol of wealth and power, Ibid., p. 1288.

The beginning or the end of a rhythmic unit is often marked by an interjection like the “haha hanane” of the wail previously quoted, or by the repetition of the same word. Both these forms occur often in love songs:

Ye ya aye ya! You are hard hearted, you who say that you love me, You are hard hearted, my dear! Ye ya aye ya! You are cruel, you who say that you are lovesick for me, my dear! Ye ya aye ya! When are you going to talk my love? my dear![145]

[145] Ibid., p. 1301.

or in a shaman’s song:[146]

I have been told to continue to heal him by the Good Supernatural Power, I have been told to keep on putting the hemlock ring over him by the Shaman-of-the-Sea, the Good Supernatural Power, I have been told to put back into our friend his soul, by the Good Supernatural Power, I have been told to give him long life, by the Long-Life- Giver-of-the-Sea, the Chief-of-High-Water, the Good Supernatural Power.

[146] Ibid., p. 1296.

Symmetry in the rigid sense of the term does not exist in the arts built on time sequences. A reversion of time sequence is not felt as symmetry in the same way as a reversion of space sequence where every point has its equivalent point. In time sequences we have a feeling for symmetry only for the order of repetition and structural phrases. The following Negro poem will illustrate this:

Ko ko re ko kom on do! Girl gone, him no gone, Ko ko re ko kom on do![147]

[147] Martha Warren Beckwith, Jamaica Anansi Stories, Memoirs. Amer. Folk-lore Soc., Vol. 17 (1924) p. 107.

It seems, however that in primitive recitative poetry and music this form is not as frequent as in modern folk song or in modern poetry.

The effect of poetry and oratory depends in part on the use of metaphor. It is hardly possible to discuss this in a generalized way, because the appreciation of metaphor requires a most intimate knowledge of the language in which it occurs. Apparent absence of metaphor is undoubtedly more likely due to imperfect records than to an actual absence of figures of speech. It is quite striking that it is difficult to find metaphorical expressions in American Indian literature, although it is undoubtedly a feature of their oratory. The whole naming system of most American Indians proves their feeling for figurative speech.

Here also I may be permitted to confine my remarks to the use of metaphor among the Kwakiutl with whose speech forms I am fairly familiar. Metaphorical expressions are used particularly when describing the greatness of a chief or of a warrior. The chief is compared to a mountain; a precipice (from which rolls down wealth overwhelming the tribes); a rock which cannot be climbed; the post of heaven (who supports the world); the only great tree (that raises its crown over the lesser trees of the woods or that rises in lonely height on an island); a loaded canoe at anchor; the one who makes the whole world smoky (from the fire in the house in which he gives feasts); the thick tree; the thick root (of the tribe). It is said that through his great acts he burns up the tribes, a term which is primarily used for the warrior. The people follow him as the young sawbill-ducks follow the mother bird. He makes the people suffer with his short-life maker; he shoves away the tribes. His rival whom he tries to vanquish is called, he with ruffled feathers; the one whom he puts across his back (like a wolf carrying a deer); the one with lolling tongue; the one who loses his tail (like the salmon); the spider woman; old dog; mouldy face; dry face; broken piece of copper.

Greatness of a chief is called the weight of his name; when he marries a princess he lifts her weight from the floor; his wealth of blankets is a mountain that rises through our heavens; in the feast surrounded by his tribe, he stands on his fortress. Wealth that he acquires is a salmon that he catches.

When following ancient customs the people walk the road laid out for them by their ancestors.

The warrior or a person of ill temper is called “hellebore”. The warrior is also called “the double-headed serpent of the world”.

Metaphorical terms are an important element in the speeches accompanying public purchases, particularly the purchase of valuable “coppers”. Many of these terms are accompanied by symbolic actions. The first part of the payment in the purchase of a copper is called the pillow or mattress on which the copper is to rest or the harpoon line by which it is hauled in. The purchase itself is called “shoving” that means pushing the value of the purchase under the name of the purchaser who is thus raised in rank. At the end of the transaction the seller gives to the purchaser a certain number of blankets (which are the standard of value) as a “belt” to hold up the blankets (in which the purchase price is reckoned); as boxes in which to store these blankets; and finally he gives an amount as a dress for his dancer (that is his female relative who dances for him on festive occasions).

When a person gives a great feast for his rival he extinguishes the fire of his rival’s house; his feast steps up to the fire in the middle of the house. If he surpasses his rival in liberality, his feast steps across the fire and reaches the rear of the house where the chief is seated.

Presents for a bride are a packline to carry her property; a mat on which she is to sit; and a mast for her canoe.

I do not mention here the many euphemistic terms for sickness and death, except a few that are used in speeches: the dead chief has gone to take a rest; he has disappeared from this world; he stays away; or he lies down.

Metaphorical figures in songs are not rare. Of the death of a renowned man who was drowned, it is said in his mourning song:

“It deprived me of my mind, when the moon went down at the edge of the waters”.[148]