“Wind now commences to sing;
Wind now commences to sing;
Wind now commences to sing.
The land stretches before me,
Before me it stretches away.
Wind’s house now is thundering;
Wind’s house now is thundering.
Came the myriad-legged wind.
The wind came running hither.
The Black Snake Wind came to me
The Black Snake Wind came to me.
Came and wrapped itself about,
Came here running with its song.
[162] Frank Russell, The Pima Indians, 26^{th} Ann. Rep. Bur. Am.
Ethn., p. 324.
The following Eskimo song which describes the beauty of nature is well
known:[163]
“The great Kunak mount yonder south, I do behold it;
The great Kunak mount yonder south, I regard it;
The shining brightness yonder south, I contemplate.
Outside of Kunak it is expanding,
The same that Kunak towards the seaside doth quite encompass.
Behold, how yonder south they shift and change.
Behold, how yonder south they tend to beautify each other,
While from the seaside it is enveloped in sheets still changing,
From the seaside enveloped to mutual embellishment.”
[163] Henry Rink, Tales and Traditions of the Eskimos, London, 1875, p.
68.
A song, provided it does not contain intelligible words, may be of
purely formal esthetic value, which depends upon its melodic and
rhythmic character. Even these forms may be attached to more or less
different groups of ideas of emotional value. On the other hand the
established significance of the song may vary materially when different
sets of words are used with it. We observe this in our own culture,
when diverse thoughts are expressed in the same metre or when distinct
poems are sung according to the same tune,—as, for example, happened in
the transfer of folksongs into religious songs. I do not know in how
far this may happen in primitive poetry. Among the tribes that I know
best there is a decided tendency to associate a certain rhythm with a
certain set of songs. Thus the five part rhythm of the Northwest coast
of America seems to be closely connected with the religious winter
ceremonial; the mourning songs with slow regular beating.
The inherent relation between literary type and culture appears also
clearly in narrative.
The motives of action are determined by the mode of life and the chief
interests of the people, and the plots give us a picture of these.
In many typical tales of the Chukchee of Siberia the subject of the
tale is the tyranny and overmastering arrogance of an athletic hunter
or warrior and the attempts of the villagers to free themselves. Among
the Eskimo a group of brothers often take the place of the village
bully. Among both groups of people who live in small settlements,
without any hard and fast political organization, the fear of the
strongest person plays an important role, no matter whether his power
is founded on bodily strength or on supposed supernatural qualities.
The story uses generally a weak, despised boy as savior of the
community. Although tales of overbearing chiefs do occur among the
Indians they are not by any means a predominant type.
The principal theme of the Indians of British Columbia, whose thoughts
are almost entirely taken up by the wish to obtain rank and high
position in the community, is the tale of a poor man who attains high
position, or of the struggles between two chiefs who try to outdo
each other in feats that will increase their social standing. Among
the Blackfeet the principal theme is the acquisition of ceremonies,
possession and practise of which is a most important element in their
life.
All these differences are not entirely those of content but they
influence the form of the narrative, because the incidents are tied
together in different ways. The same motive recurs over and over again
in the tales of primitive people, so that a large mass of material
collected from the same tribe is liable to be very monotonous, and
after a certain point has been reached only new variants of old themes
are obtained.
However, much more fundamental are the differences which are based on
the general difference of cultural outlook. The same story told by
different tribes may bear an entirely different face. Not only is the
setting distinct, the motivation and the main points of the tales are
emphasized by different tribes in different ways and take on a local
coloring that can be understood only in relation to the whole culture.
An example selected from among the tales of the North American Indians
will illustrate this point. I chose the story of the star husband,
which is told on the prairies, in British Columbia, and on the North
Atlantic coast. The prairie tribes tell that two maidens go out to dig
roots and camp out. They see two stars and wish to be married to them.
The next morning they find themselves in the sky married to the stars.
They are forbidden to dig certain large roots, but the young women
disobey the orders of their husbands and, through a hole in the ground
they see the earth below. By means of a rope they climb down. From
here on, the story takes distinctive forms in different geographical
areas. In one form the adventures of the women after their return are
described, in the other the feats of the child born by one of them.
The central view-point of the same story as told by the Indians of
British Columbia is completely changed. The girls of a village build
a house in which they play and one day they talk about the stars,
how happy they must be because they are able to see the whole world.
The next morning they awake in the sky, in front of the house of a
great chief. The house is beautifully carved and painted. Suddenly a
number of men appear who pretend to embrace the girls but kill them by
sucking out their brains. Only the chief’s daughter and her younger
sister are saved. The elder sister becomes the wife of the chief of the
stars. Finally the chief sends them back with the promise to help them
whenever they are in need. They find the village deserted and the star
chief sends down his house and the masks and whistles belonging to a
ceremony which becomes the hereditary property of the woman’s family.
The tale ends with the acquisition of the house and the ceremony,
matters that are the chief interest in the life of the Indians. In
this way the story becomes one of the long series of tales of similar
import, although the contents belong to an entirely distinct group.
As a second example I mention the story of Amor and Psyche which has
been cast into a new mould by the Pueblo Indians. Here the antelope
appears in the form of a maiden. She marries a youth who is forbidden
to see the girl. He transgresses this order and, by the light of a
candle, looks upon her while she is asleep. Immediately the girl and
house disappear and the young man finds himself in the wallow of an
antelope.
Equally instructive are the transformations of biblical stories in
the mouths of the natives. Dr. Benedict and Dr. Parsons have recorded
a nativity story of the Zuni in which Jesus appears as a girl, the
daughter of the sun. After the child is born the domestic animals lick
it, only the mule refuses to do so and is punished with sterility. The
whole story has been given a new aspect. It is made to account for
the fertility of animals, and tells how fertility may be increased, a
thought uppermost in the minds of the Pueblos.
European fairy tales differ in this respect from those of primitive
tribes, for in contents and form they embrace many survivals of past
times. It is quite evident that the modern European fairy tale does not
reflect the conditions of the State of our times, nor the conditions of
our daily life, but that they give us an imaginative picture of rural
life in semifeudal times, and that, owing to the contradictions between
modern intellectualism and the ancient rural tradition, conflicts of
viewpoints occur that may be interpreted as survivals. In the tales
of primitive people it is otherwise. A detailed analysis of the
traditional tales of a number of Indian tribes shows complete agreement
of the conditions of life with those that may be abstracted from the
tales. Beliefs and customs in life and in tales are in full accord.
This is true not only of old native material but also of imported
stories that have been borrowed some time ago. They are quickly
adapted to the prevailing mode of life. The analysis of tales from the
Northwest coast and from the Pueblos gives the same result. Only during
the period of transition to new modes of life, such as are brought
about by contact with Europeans, contradictions develop. Thus it
happens that in the tales of Laguna, one of the Pueblos of New Mexico,
the visitor always enters through the roof of the house, although the
modern houses have doors. The headman of the ceremonial organization
plays an important role in many tales, although the organization itself
has largely disappeared. The tales of the Plains Indians still tell of
buffalo hunts although the game has disappeared and the people have
become tillers of the soil and laborers.
It would be erroneous to assume that the absence of survivals of an
earlier time can be explained as due to the permanence of conditions,
to a lack of historical change. Primitive culture is a product of
historical development no less than modern civilization. Mode of
life, customs, and beliefs of primitive tribes are not stable; but
the rate of change, unless disturbances from the outside occur, is
slower than among ourselves. What is lacking is the pronounced social
stratification of our times that brings it about that the various
groups represent, as it were, different periods of development. So far
as my knowledge goes we find the cultural, formal background of the
art of narrative of primitive people almost entirely determined by its
present cultural state. The only exceptions are found in periods of an
unusually rapid change or of disintegration. However, in this case also
a readjustment occurs. Thus the stories of the modern negroes of Angola
reflect the mixed culture of the west African coast. In the cultural
background of the narrative, survivals do not play an important role,
at least not under normal conditions. The plot may be old and taken
from foreign sources, but in its adoption it undergoes radical changes.
These remarks relating to literature do not mean, of course, that in
other aspects of life ancient customs and beliefs may not persist over
long periods.
We have spoken so far of the structure of the elements of prose tales
and songs. Important characteristics are found also in the manner
of their composition. In the narratives of some people the episodes
are anecdotally short; among others the wish for a more complex
structure is felt. Often this is accomplished by the meagre device of
concentrating all the anecdotes around one personage.
In many cases the craftiness, strength, voracity or amorousness of the
hero gives a more or less definite character to the whole cycle. The
Raven tale of Alaska consists entirely of unrelated episodes. The only
connecting element, besides the identity of the hero, is the voracity
of the Raven; but even this disappears in many cases. Quite similar
are the Coyote tales of the Plateaus, the Spider tales of the Sioux,
the Rabbit tales of the Algonquin, the Spider tales of the Guinea
coast, the Rabbit and Turtle tales of South Africa, and the Fox tales
of Europe. There is no inner connection between the specific character
of the hero and the contents in the anecdote of the hoodwinked dancers
(birds are induced to dance with closed eyes so as to give the hero a
chance to wring their necks without being observed); in the tale of the
eye juggler (the hero who is induced to throw up his eyes which are
then caught in the branches of a tree so that he becomes blind); or
in the incident of the bungling host (the hero is invited to partake
of magically obtained food and he reciprocates the invitation but is
ignominiously defeated in his attempt to repeat the magical procedure).
Sometimes the tales are strung on the slight thread of an Odyssey, of
a tale of adventure and travel. To this class belongs the Eskimo tale
of a hero who escaped a storm created by magic, and who encountered
dangers of the sea which are described in some detail. He reaches a
foreign coast and encounters cannibals and other dangerous creatures.
Finally he reaches home again. Another case of this kind is a newly
developed legend of the Tlingit of Alaska. In the early days of Russian
colonization of Alaska the Tlingit attacked the fort at Sitka and the
Russian governor, Baranoff, had to flee. After a few years he returned
to reestablish the fort. This interval is filled by the Tlingit with
a marvellous journey, telling how he goes in search of his son. He
encounters fabulous beings that are known from other tales, visits
the entrance to the lower world and communicates with the ghosts who
give him instructions. Among the Pueblo Indians a large number of
incidents are connected in a tale of migration in which the whole tribe
participates.
In other cases there is an effort to establish an inner connection
between the single elements. Thus the disconnected Raven tale of Alaska
has been remodelled in southern British Columbia in such a manner
that some of the elements of the tale have been brought into an inner
connection: The thunder-bird steals a woman. In order to recover her
the raven makes a whale of wood and kills the gum because he needs
it to caulk the whale. In another tale the killing of the gum is the
introduction to a visit to the sky. The sons of the murdered gum ascend
the sky to take revenge.
Other tales are so developed that they form a complex, novelistic plot.
The creation legends of the Polynesians are of this character. Even
among those tribes that enjoy the brief, etiological anecdote, tales
occur that contain the elements of an epic poem. The bare outlines of a
family story of the Kwakiutl may serve as an example: The Thunderbird
and his wife live in heaven, they descend to our earth and become the
ancestors of a family. The Transformer meets them and in a series of
contests the two prove to be of equal power. Finally the transformer
puts frogs into the stomach of the Thunderbird-ancestor who takes
them out again and deposits them on a rock. The sons of one of his
friends go and then the frogs enter their stomachs, but they are cured
by the Thunderbird-ancestor. In return he receives a magic canoe.
The tale goes on to relate the birth, magic growth, and exploits of
his four children. His wife is ravished by a spirit and gives birth
to a boy who is washed in the slime of a double-headed serpent. Thus
his skin becomes stone. The tale continues with a long series of
warlike exploits of this son. Finally he woos a princess for one of
his brothers. On a visit to her home the son of this princess is made
fun of by the children in the village of her father. This results in
a war in which the village of her father is destroyed. One of the
wives of her father escapes and gives birth to a boy. The second wife
of her father is enslaved by Stone-Body, the young man whose skin had
been transformed into stone. She gives birth to a boy and by a ruse
succeeds in making her escape with her son. The two brothers grow up
and, in a series of adventures and exploits, both obtain supernatural
power. They meet and travel towards the village of their father,
killing and transforming on the way dangerous monsters. Meanwhile
Stone-Body has obtained a ceremonial from a southern tribe and goes
to Feather-Mountain in the north to obtain bird’s down, needed for
this dance. On his way back he meets the ancestors of another tribe
and they have a contest of magical powers. In this he is overcome and
killed with his whole crew. In the main story this incident is omitted.
He goes on and the two brothers, the daughters of the escaped woman
overturn his canoe and kill him. On a visit to her father the woman
married to Stone-Body’s brother sees the head of Stone-Body and her
child reports this after their return. Then her husband’s people set
out to take revenge but all are killed by the two brothers, who give a
feast in their house and maltreat their guests.
So far we have considered only the reflection of cultural life in the
form of the narrative. Its influence is also expressed in another
manner. When the narrative is thoroughly integrated in the life of
the people a process occurs quite similar to the one we observed in
decorative art. As a geometric form often receives a secondary meaning
that is read into it, so the narrative is given an interpretative
significance that is quite foreign to the original tale; and as in
decorative art the adventitious meaning varies in character according
to the culture of the people, thus the style of the interpretation of
a tale depends upon the cultural interests of the people telling it
and, accordingly, assumes distinctive forms. We have found that art
styles are apt to be disseminated over wide areas while the explanatory
meaning of art forms shows much greater individuality. Precisely in
the same manner, tales are apt to travel over enormous areas but their
significance changes according to the various cultural interests of
the tribes. As an example I refer to the story of the girl who married
a dog, a tale widely spread in North America. It is used to explain
the origin of the milky way (Alaska); the origin of the culture hero
(British Columbia); the origin of the tribal ancestor (Southern
British Columbia); the origin of a constellation (interior of British
Columbia); the origin of a red cliff (interior of Alaska); the origin
of the Dog Society (Blackfoot); and the reason why dogs are the friends
of man (Arapaho).[164]
[164] Waterman, The Explanatory Element in the Folk-tales of the North
American Indians, Journal of American Folk-lore, Vol. 27 (1914), pp. 28
et seq.
The view of the historical development of explanatory tales here
expressed is analogous to that regarding the relation of symbolism and
design. The general type of interpretation of symbolism exists in the
tribe and the tale is made to conform to it. In many cases the symbolic
or interpretative explanation is a foreign element added on to the
design or to the tale in agreement with a stylistic pattern controlling
the imagination of the people. This process may lead indirectly also
to a conformable stylistic development of other representations, or to
attempts to give explanations for the phenomena of nature. Only on the
basis of a pre-existing style which has its origin in non-symbolic and
non-interpretative sources can the resultant form develop.
It must not be assumed that the literary style of a people is uniform,
on the contrary the forms are quite varied. I have pointed out before
that unity of style is not found in decorative art either, that many
cases may be adduced in which different styles are used in different
industries or among different groups of the population. Just so we
find in a tribe complex tales that have definite structural cohesion,
and brief anecdotes; some told with an evident enjoyment of diffuse
detail, others almost reduced to a formula. An example of this are the
long stories and the animal fables of the Eskimo. The former treat of
events happening in human society, of adventurous travel, of encounters
with monsters and supernatural beings, of deeds of shamans. They are
novelistic tales. On the other hand many of the animal fables are mere
formulas. Similar contrasts are found in the tales and fables of the
negroes.
The styles of songs vary also considerably according to the occasion
for which they are composed. Among the Kwakiutl we find long songs
in which the greatness of the ancestors is described in the form of
recitatives. In religious festivals songs are used of rigid rhythmic
structure, accompanying dances. In these the same words or syllables
are repeated over and over again, except that another appellation for
the supernatural being in whose honor they are sung is introduced in
each new stanza. Again of a different type are the love songs which are
not by any means rare.
It is striking that certain literary forms are found among all the
races of the old world while they are unknown in America. Here belongs
particularly the proverb. The important position held by the proverb in
the literature of Africa, Asia, and also of Europe until quite recent
times, is well known. In Africa particularly do we find the proverb in
constant use. It is even the basis of court decisions. The importance
of the proverb in Europe is illustrated by the way in which Sancho
Panza applies it. Equally rich is Asiatic literature in proverbial
sayings. On the contrary, hardly any proverbial sayings are known from
American Indians. I have referred before to a few metaphorical sayings
of the Tsimshian, the only proverbial sayings known to me north of
Mexico.[165]
[165] I collected one saying among the Eskimo of Cumberland Sound:
“If I should go to get them I should be like one who goes to buy the
backside of a salmon (i. e. something without value).”
The same conditions are found in regard to the riddle, one of the
favorite pass-times of the Old World, which is almost entirely absent
in America. Riddles are known from the Yukon River, a region in which
Asiatic influences may be discovered in several cultural traits, and
also in Labrador. In other parts of the continent careful questioning
has failed to reveal their occurrence. It is striking that even in
New Mexico and Arizona, where Indians and Spaniards have been living
side by side for several centuries and where Indian literature is full
of Spanish elements, the riddle, nevertheless, has not been adopted,
although the Spaniards of this region are as fond of riddles as those
of other parts of the country. Sahagun, however, records a number of
riddles from Mexico.[166]
[166] B. Sahagun (see note p. 132), Vol. 2, pp. 236, 237.
As a third example I mention the peculiar development of the animal
tale. Common to mankind the world over is the animal fable by means of
which form and habits of animals, or the existence of natural phenomena
are explained. The moralising fable, on the other hand, belongs to the
Old World.
The distribution of epic poetry is also wide, but nevertheless
limited to a fairly definitely circumscribed area, namely Europe and
a considerable part of Central Asia. We have mentioned that in America
long, connected tribal traditions occur, but up to this time no trace
of a composition that might be called a romance or a true epic poem
has ever been discovered. Neither can the Polynesian legends telling
of the descent and deeds of their chiefs be designated as epic poetry.
The distribution of this form can be understood only on the basis of
the existence of ancient cultural relations. For this reason Wundt’s
analysis of the origin of the epic poem does not seem adequate. It
has a meaning only in so far as the inclination existed to express in
song tribal history and the deeds of heroes, a pattern that developed
locally, but that is not of universal occurrence.
On the ground of the distribution of these types two conclusions may be
established: the one that these forms are not necessary steps in the
development of literary form, but that they occur only under certain
conditions; the other that the forms are not determined by race, but
depend upon historical happenings.
If at the time when Europeans first came to the New World the
literature of the Americans did not possess the three types of
literature which we mentioned, it does not follow that they would have
appeared at a later time. We have no reason whatever to assume that
American literature was less developed than that of Africa. On the
contrary, the art of narrative and poetry are highly developed in many
parts of America. We must rather assume that the historical conditions
have led to a form different from that of the Old World.
The wide distribution of most of these forms among Europeans, Mongols,
Malay, and Negro proves the independence of literary development from
racial descent. It shows that it is one of the characteristics of the
enormously extended cultural area, which embraces almost the whole of
the Old World, and which in other features also appears in distinct
contrast to the New World. I mention here only the development of a
formal judicial procedure, founded on the taking of evidence, the oath
and the ordeal and the absence of this complex in America; and the
absence in America of the belief in obsession and of the evil eye which
are widely known in the Old World.
The characteristics of poetry lead us to a consideration of the forms
of music. The only kind of music that is of universal occurrence
is song; and the source of music must therefore be sought here.
Universally valid characteristics of song will also be general
principles of music. Two elements are common to all song: rhythm and
fixed intervals. We have shown before that rhythm must not be conceived
on the basis of our modern regularity as a sequence of measures of
equal duration and somewhat free subdivision, but its form is much more
general. Apparent irregularity must not be misinterpreted as a lack of
rhythm, for in each repetition of a song the same order is preserved
without change. Precisely as the rhythmic order in primitive decorative
art is more complex than our own, so also is the rhythm of music liable
to be more complex. Regular measures do occur, but they are not so
rigidly confined to 2, 3 or 4 part time, as our own, but 5 and 7 part
sequences frequently occur, in fact predominate in some types of music:
five part rhythms are common in northwestern America, 7 part rhythms
in southern Asia. Alterations of rhythms that seem unfamiliar to us
are found, as well as very complex sequences that cannot be reduced
to measures at all. We may best describe the rhythm of many types of
primitive music as consisting of a regular sequence of musical phrases
of irregular structure. Sometimes the phrases expand into long rhythmic
units without recognisable subdivision.
A second and all-important element of all music is the use of fixed
intervals which may be transposed from one point of the tone series
to another and which are always recognized as equivalent. In singing,
these intervals are naturally inaccurate, for intonation is uncertain
and wavering and depends upon the intensity of emotional excitement.
Intervals are liable to increase, as the emotions of the singers
are raised to a higher pitch. It is, therefore, difficult if not
impossible to say what the singers intend to sing. The musical interval
may be compared with the melody of language. Most languages do not
use pitch in such a way that it is an important, significant part of
articulation. The use of pitch in language is more widely distributed
than is generally known. It is not by any means the exclusive feature
of Chinese, but it occurs in Africa as well as in America, not to speak
of its familiar use in the Scandinavian languages and in ancient Greek.
Theoretically it is conceivable that early human speech might have used
fixed intervals and musical phrasing of vowels and voiced consonants
just as well as different timbre of vowels (that is our _a_, _e_, _i_,
_o_, _u_, and other vowel values), to express different ideas, but it
cannot be proved that such was done. It is much more likely, according
to available linguistic evidence that musical tone in language is a
secondary development due to the disappearance of formative elements.
We must also consider that in languages with tone, glides are of
great importance and that these are not typical parts of the melodic
sequence, although they occur as endings of phrases. Furthermore the
intervals of speech are not fixed and vary considerably according
to the position of the word in the phrase. It does not seem likely,
therefore, that the melody can be derived directly from speech, as
Herbert Spencer tried to do. I rather adhere to the opinion of Stumpf
who demands a different origin for the fixed interval. The sustained
cry is much more likely to use fixed intervals and stable tones.
Whatever their origin may have been, we must recognize the existence
of fixed intervals and their transponability as the fundamental
requirements of all music. It is true that in some languages the value
of the fixed interval is keenly felt. This is demonstrated by the
so-called drum language of West Africa in which the speech melody and
rhythm is repeated on drums of definite tones and where these tone
sequences are understood.
Further investigation of primitive music requires a study of the
intervals themselves. Notwithstanding the great differences of systems
we find that all intervals may be interpreted as subdivisions of
the octave. To the untrained ear the octave appears very commonly
as a single tone; in other words, no distinction is made between a
tone and its octave. To a lesser extent this is true of the fifth
and even of the fourth. The majority of intervals that have been
found must be considered as subdivisions of the octave. However, the
subdivision does not always proceed according to harmonic principles
as in our music, but by equidistant tones. The development of harmony
in modern music has had the effect that we have lost all feeling for
equidistance in a harmonic series and that the recent music in which
non-harmonic equidistant tones are applied require a difficult break
with the pattern of musical form to which we are accustomed. After a
long struggle, we have reached a compromise between the two systems,
the harmonic and the equidistant, by dividing the octave into twelve
equal parts which give a fairly close agreement to the natural harmonic
intervals, although the differences are audible to a trained ear. The
Javanese divide the octave into seven equidistant steps, the Siamese
into five, systems that are in fundamental conflict with those of
our music. In short, a great variety of scales exist and serve as
foundation for the musical systems of different people. All seem to
have in common as foundation the octave.
I will not enter into this intricate subject any further, because
a safe method has not yet been found that would enable us to tell
definitely what people _want_ to sing among whom there is no theory of
music, as it exists among ourselves or the civilized people of Asia,
and who have no exactly constructed instruments.
Among musical instruments one type is of universal distribution: the
percussion instruments, or perhaps better instruments for producing
noises that carry the rhythm of the song. In the simplest cases these
are sticks with which boards or other resounding objects are struck.
But besides these we find everywhere the use of some kind of a drum:
wooden, hollow boxes, hollow cylinders or hoops covered with a drum
head of skin. Rattles, and locally other devices for producing noises
occur. Not so general, for musical purposes, is the use of wind
instruments. Whistles used as calls are perhaps universal, but the
flute or pipe is not used everywhere as a musical instrument. Still
more restricted is the use of stringed instruments. At the time of
the discovery they were entirely unknown in America. Among primitive
tribes, including the whole of America, song was accompanied only by
rhythmic beating on instruments of percussion. It is interesting to
note that the beats did not always coincide with the accent of the
song, but had often an independent, though coordinated rhythm (see p.
315). Singing in several parts is also unknown in primitive music. In
Africa solo singing and response of a chorus occurs, and a kind of
polyphony due to the overlapping of these. Sometimes true singing in
parts has been observed in Africa.
Music is always expressionistic and we are apt to associate with a tune
and rhythm a definite mood, but these associations vary considerably
with local styles. I have referred, in another place, to the feelings
associated among ourselves with the major and minor keys. These are not
by any means shared by people who have grown up under the influence
of another musical style. It is likely that the symbolic meaning
of music alone is vaguer than that of song; but it is difficult to
reach a definite decision in regard to this question, for there is
very little music without song or without association with symbolic
or representative actions. The condition is perhaps comparable to
that found in the symbolic significance of graphic and plastic arts,
the connotations of which are, as we have seen, certain only when
a definite relation between form and implied content exist. It is
intelligible that a type of tune that is always applied in mourning
ceremonies will produce the proper emotional effect, while the same
type of tune without such definite setting might have quite a different
effect.
The present state of our knowledge of primitive music does not permit
us to establish definite musical areas, but enough is known to prove
that as all other cultural features, we may recognize a series of
musical areas, each characterized by common fundamental traits. The
narrow compass of tunes of east Siberian songs, the falling cadence
with repetition of motives on a falling series of fundamental tones
among the Plains Indians, the antiphony of Negro songs are examples
of this kind. The varying systems of tonality, the use of purely
instrumental music, the kind of accompaniment of song, are others. It
seems quite certain that it will be possible to determine large areas
in which, by diffusion, similar types of musical art have developed
and in which, by subdivision, local types may be segregated similar in
character to those found in decorative art. Even in the modern folk
music of Europe a definite character of the folkmusic of each nation
may be recognized. Borrowed melodies adapted to local forms illustrate
this type of individuality. As an example of such adaptation I give on
the next page a German song which has been adopted by the Mexicans. It
was probably carried there by the army of Maximilian.
On account of the interrelation between body movements and
articulations it seems likely that rhythmic body movements release
rhythmic articulations, that is song; and that in this sense, songs
that consist of meaningless syllables may have their origin in
movement. On the other hand the excitement engendered by song leads
to movements that are related to the rhythm of the song, so that in
this sense, a dance is conditioned by the song. We mean here by dance,
the rhythmic movements of any part of the body, swinging of the arms,
movement of the trunk or head, or movements of the legs and feet. The
two forms of expression are mutually determined.
We have to remember here the general remarks which we made in the
beginning in regard to all art. We saw that without a formal element
art does not exist. Technical work without fixed form does not create
artistic enjoyment. In the same way violent, expressive movement born
of the passion of the moment is not art. Art as an expression of
feeling requires form as much as art born of the control of technical
processes. If it were not selfevident we might have pointed out also
that the passionate cry is neither poetry nor music. It is, therefore,
not appropriate to call dance all the violent movements that occur in
the lives of primitive people. We must reserve the term to movements
of fixed form, although it may be recognized that in the height of
excitement dance may turn into a formless tumult of motion, as music
may change to formless cries of wildest excitement.
[Music:
Denkst du daran, mein tapfer Lagienka, dass ich dereinst in
unserm Vaterland, an eurer Spitze nah bei Dubienka, viertausend
gegen sechzehntausend stand? Denkst du daran, wie ich vom Feind
umgeben,
mit Mühe nur die Freiheit uns gewann? Ich denke
dran, ich danke dir mein Leben; doch du, Soldat, Soldat denkst du
daran.
Yo trobador, yo pobre sin fortuna, si te admiro las
gracias que tu tienes; yo no te veo mas bella que la luna, si te adoro
me perdonas otra vez. Proscrito yo, en extranjero
suelo, no hay piedad de un triste trobador. Proscrito
yo en extranjero suelo, no hay piedad de un triste trobador.
]
We observe among all primitive tribes that emotions finding vent in
motor activities adopt a definite form. In this sense dance as an art
form may be purely formal, that is, devoid of symbolic meaning. Its
esthetic effect may be founded on the enjoyment of body movement, often
reinforced by that emotional excitement that is released by the dance
movement. The more formal the dance, the stronger will be the purely
esthetic enjoyment, as against the emotional element.
We are not well informed in regard to the local distribution of dance
types among primitive people but enough is known to allow us to state
that, as in decorative art and in music, areas of similar dance forms
occur. The joint dances of the Pueblo Indians in which participate
a large number of dancers dressed alike and in formation, are quite
foreign to the North Pacific coast where the single dance prevails.
In the formal woman’s dance of the Northwest Coast, the dancer stays
in the same place with hands raised to the height of the face, palms
forward and trembling. The body movements are carried on by gentle
bending of the knees and slight swaying of the body. The Koryak dancer
who holds the drum, moves in quite another way, swinging his body
from the hips and beating the drum (see fig. 73, p. 79). Joint dances
of the two sexes are rare and the dancers do not often so move that
their bodies are in intimate contact. We find more frequently either
single dances or a number of performers who repeat the same movements.
The effectiveness of the dance is increased by the order in which the
dancers stand and move.
Symbolic movements are perhaps even more frequent than purely formal
dance. They are used not only in accompanying song but also in
oratory, and the muscular play accompanying lively conversation of both
the speaker and the hearer is a manifestation of the relation between
language and symbolic movements. These are also standardized in each
cultural area. The number of organically determined gestures is very
small. Most of them are culturally patterned. Many are so automatic
that they are called forth immediately by the form of thought. In other
cases the speaker enhances the effect of his words by appropriate
gestures and the meaning of song is often brought out more vividly by
significant movements. Thus the chorus of the Indians of the Pueblo of
Laguna sing:
“In the east rises the sun youth,
Here westward he moves with life and vegetation.
Carrying them in his basket while he is walking along.”
When this song is sung the singer faces westward and moves forward. The
word “vegetation” is expressed by pushing the hands alternately upward;
“basket” by describing a wide circle with both hands and bringing
them together in front of the body. The gesture expresses the act of
carrying in a basket. The word “walking” is indicated by stretching the
hands out forward in front of the body and waving them up and up.