I want to drop in news of a new book by Mr. Barks this week. No, not our friend Coleman, but his brother Herbert-who has just written a beautiful new commentary on the old Russian tale, "The Hunter and the Horse of Power", elegantly but grittily woven through certain scenes and challenges from his own life, which are no less interesting i must say. His book reminds me of the old story Joe Campbell used to tell, that it was the female students at Sarah Lawrence College that took his high flying mythological ideas and ground them in the business of our everyday love affairs, low down depressions and side ways swipes at God. Herb's book does just that-spacious, uncomplicated prose handling fierce ideas. I must have told and taught that story dozens of times and he is unearthing all kinds of muddy gold that never knocked on my door. The business of an elder no less, it's a wonderful thing he has been generous enough to write it for the rest of us hungry crows to slowly gobble.
Get a copy today from maypop books at
www.colemanbarks.com
Get two, it will be christmas soon enough. Finally, someone unafraid to wrote mythopoetically again.
Ahh, but i can't have one Barks without a joyful yelp of the other. Please spend careful savings, gamble aunties ring, take up bare-knuckle boxing for chump change, lap dance for angry welshmen, offer tea cup divination to the Archbishop of Canterbury, but get to California and join us for,,,drum roll maestro...
POINT REYES BOOKS
&
WESTCOUNTRY SCHOOL OF MYTH AND STORY
PRESENT
COLEMAN BARKS, MARTIN SHAW, LISA STARR, DAVID DARLING (who just got himself a grammy)
LEAVING THE VILLAGE, FINDING THE FOREST
exploring the soul and the land in poetry, myth and music
Over two evenings and a day each artist will perform, teach and collaborate from their specific discipline, a cello taking flight, the refrain from some old stories, the call and response of ancient words. Starting with an evening performance in the sweetness of the village and ending the following evening round a fire out in the forest, this is a rare opportunity to join world renowned poet and translator of Rumi, Coleman Barks, award-winning British storyteller, Martin Shaw, Poet Laureate of Rhode Island, Lisa Starr, and Grammy Award nominated musician, David Darling in a daylong workshop exploring language, landscape and ritual at the Pt Reyes National Seashore's exquisite Kule Loklo.
June 18th and 19th 2010
Toby’s Feed Barn
Kule Loklo Coast Miwok Village
Point Reyes, California
UNITED STATES
For details and registration: www.ptreyesbooks.com
Thank you for all that came to PARZIVAL last weekend. I have just about got the lance splinters out of my coat, i have cleaned my armor of rust, and have quietly replaced the Grail to Anfortas. More soon compadres,
M x
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
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Moon Comes Gliding: It's all about the Trobairitz
It's been too long. I have been burning midnight, early morning and midday candles on a variety of writings-much on research for my next book-a fresh look at Parzival no less, and the preperation for this weekends two and a half day telling of it. Think of me around sunday lunchtime, that can be when i start to wobble.Still the spirit-birds of the feathery 12th C keep me upright if i leave enough words for them to feast on.
The research has brought me back to the amazing Trobairitz, heroines of mine. Plucky, fiesty, almost unimaginable in the era. I suggest you get a copy of Meg Bogin's book (below), all about this tiny (scattered) group of female troubadours. Written in 1980, and with the full flush of 70's feminism in her sails it is an interesting read. Concise. Also reading George Steiner's 'After Babel' which so far is good,unruly thinking.So i am throwing in some of my notes on the two areas-they are just personal so lacking much flair-but may lead to further reading.
Hey-please join us over at:
http://www/mythsinger.net/
it's like a mythic facebook. The School of Myth has its own group and its a chance to exchange ideas, arguements and any thoughts on how to create a small moonshine whisky distillery.That last bit is quite serious.
There is also a 4 page interview with myself in Kindred Spirit magazine(google will get you to them)this month.
So notes below-see you next week with some more on metaphor.
M x
THE MOON AS A FLURRY OF WORDS
George Steiner makes an explicit link between language and the erotic;
Eros and language mesh at every point…are there affinities between
pathological erotic compulsions and the search, obsessive in certain poets
and logicians, for a ‘private language’, for a linguistic system unique to the needs and perceptions of the user? (Steiner, G (After Babel, Oxford University press),1975,p38-40)
In the context of my own writing,i'm not seeking a specifically ‘private language’, otherwise its very contribution would be rendered void by its unintelligibility to all but the author (although folks tell me this on occasion). However, I would suggest that with the use of metaphor,the prose certainly seeks to encourage the imagination, and where can the erotic begin except with imagination?
Steiner goes onto suggest; “womens speech is richer than men’s in those shadings of desire and futurity known in Greek and Sanskrit as optiative; women seem to verbalise a wider range of qualified resolve and masked promise” (ibid,p41)
When writing 'Lightning Tree' one passion was (and is) the poetry of the twelfth century poets of southern France, the Troubadours. Whilst predominantly male, a small group, around twenty, were female, often referred to as the ‘Trobairitz’. The writer Meg Bogin, in her book, The Women Troubadours, claims that far from Steiner’s, “shadings of desire”, the women troubadours were far more direct and less disposed to symbology than that of their male counterparts.
She adds; “the language is direct, unambigious and personal…unlike the men who created a complex poetic vision, the women wrote about their own intimate feelings” (Bogin, M, The Women Troubadours, W.W. Norton, 1980, p67-68)
When shall I have you in my power?
If only I could lie beside you for an hour
And embrace you lovingly-
Know this, that I’d give almost anything
To have you in my husband’s place,
but only under the condition
That you swear to do my bidding
The Countess of Dia, (Ibid, p89)
The Countess of Dia sounds pretty clear. It is worth noting that all of the Trobairitz, came from aristocratic backgrounds, and would have experienced ad infinitum the intricacies of their male counterparts verse, often having being the very object of their affections (within the restrictions of verse and courtly love at least). I would speculate that the women, enjoying a far more respected role (within the confines of court at least-if not the wider era), would have have felt freer to explore a more literal,gritty approach when surrounded by men constructing verse laden with mysticism and double-meaning, (when not weeping, kissing feet and offering Shiatsu and Jasmine tea- ok,i made the last bit up)
This again illustrates the oldish Jungian belief that that we contain both masculine and feminine elements within, in fact to approach myth in the way this writer suggests, this association is vital.(and Wolfish elements, wild storm elements and Kingfisher elements)
So it may be that Steiner would regard the “shadings of desire” hopefully imbued in the metaphor of any decent writing as the feminine aspect of the author communicating itself. Steiner continues his associations of the feminine with loquacity; “The alleged outpourings of a women’s speech, the rank flow of words,
may be a symbolic restatement of men’s apprehensive, often ignorant awareness of the menstrual cycle.” (Steiner, G. 1975, p42)
To think mythically around Steiner’s idea,we would now associate verbosity (rather, I suggest, eloquence), with the passage of the Moon.
The medieval phrase, ‘to drink down the moon’ suddenly becomes the chant of all storytellers in this light. However, as i wrote in the aformentioned book;
The word “moon” actually derives from the German der mond, connected to the word “Man”. We find male moon deities frequently, Tecciztecatl of the Aztecs, Mani of the Germanic tribes, Thoth of the Egyptians, Tskuyumi of the Japanese and Rahko of the Finns are just a small selection. (Author, ibid, p200)
However, when you get to 'La Luna' it takes off in another direction again...
It could be said that to know the moon is to be connected to thievery. Even his glow is stolen sunlight, reduced 500,000 times. Not content with stealing sunlight, the moon also has a penchant for pilfering colour. The gold of a cornfield or the crimson of a rose are quietly replaced by greys and blues, when moonlight's fingers fall on them. A lover of letters, he steals into books read at dusk-as we read in the gloom, words become indistinct as he scoops them up and carries them off. Night is the time of break-ins, affairs, slow time-ruptures to the agitated clock of light. At the same time however, we know that Moon replaces everything the next day, just as we left it-so he appears a cheeky thief rather than a savage robber. The Moon is also a friend to lovers, his inky sky covers them as a blanket, but his light offers a tiny trail to the sweethearts door. So to draw down the Moon brings a certain wiliness, a kind of cunning. (Author, ibid, p233)
Whatever cultural associations we have with the Moon, or which gender we regard as the most subtle in verbal nuance, the mythological certainly places metaphor as its key tool. In some respect we are returning to connotation not denotation. Metaphor contains generosity towards the reader’s imagination. It is a set of open doors impacted within the text, It is an offering from the storyteller to the reader.
The research has brought me back to the amazing Trobairitz, heroines of mine. Plucky, fiesty, almost unimaginable in the era. I suggest you get a copy of Meg Bogin's book (below), all about this tiny (scattered) group of female troubadours. Written in 1980, and with the full flush of 70's feminism in her sails it is an interesting read. Concise. Also reading George Steiner's 'After Babel' which so far is good,unruly thinking.So i am throwing in some of my notes on the two areas-they are just personal so lacking much flair-but may lead to further reading.
Hey-please join us over at:
http://www/mythsinger.net/
it's like a mythic facebook. The School of Myth has its own group and its a chance to exchange ideas, arguements and any thoughts on how to create a small moonshine whisky distillery.That last bit is quite serious.
There is also a 4 page interview with myself in Kindred Spirit magazine(google will get you to them)this month.
So notes below-see you next week with some more on metaphor.
M x
THE MOON AS A FLURRY OF WORDS
George Steiner makes an explicit link between language and the erotic;
Eros and language mesh at every point…are there affinities between
pathological erotic compulsions and the search, obsessive in certain poets
and logicians, for a ‘private language’, for a linguistic system unique to the needs and perceptions of the user? (Steiner, G (After Babel, Oxford University press),1975,p38-40)
In the context of my own writing,i'm not seeking a specifically ‘private language’, otherwise its very contribution would be rendered void by its unintelligibility to all but the author (although folks tell me this on occasion). However, I would suggest that with the use of metaphor,the prose certainly seeks to encourage the imagination, and where can the erotic begin except with imagination?
Steiner goes onto suggest; “womens speech is richer than men’s in those shadings of desire and futurity known in Greek and Sanskrit as optiative; women seem to verbalise a wider range of qualified resolve and masked promise” (ibid,p41)
When writing 'Lightning Tree' one passion was (and is) the poetry of the twelfth century poets of southern France, the Troubadours. Whilst predominantly male, a small group, around twenty, were female, often referred to as the ‘Trobairitz’. The writer Meg Bogin, in her book, The Women Troubadours, claims that far from Steiner’s, “shadings of desire”, the women troubadours were far more direct and less disposed to symbology than that of their male counterparts.
She adds; “the language is direct, unambigious and personal…unlike the men who created a complex poetic vision, the women wrote about their own intimate feelings” (Bogin, M, The Women Troubadours, W.W. Norton, 1980, p67-68)
When shall I have you in my power?
If only I could lie beside you for an hour
And embrace you lovingly-
Know this, that I’d give almost anything
To have you in my husband’s place,
but only under the condition
That you swear to do my bidding
The Countess of Dia, (Ibid, p89)
The Countess of Dia sounds pretty clear. It is worth noting that all of the Trobairitz, came from aristocratic backgrounds, and would have experienced ad infinitum the intricacies of their male counterparts verse, often having being the very object of their affections (within the restrictions of verse and courtly love at least). I would speculate that the women, enjoying a far more respected role (within the confines of court at least-if not the wider era), would have have felt freer to explore a more literal,gritty approach when surrounded by men constructing verse laden with mysticism and double-meaning, (when not weeping, kissing feet and offering Shiatsu and Jasmine tea- ok,i made the last bit up)
This again illustrates the oldish Jungian belief that that we contain both masculine and feminine elements within, in fact to approach myth in the way this writer suggests, this association is vital.(and Wolfish elements, wild storm elements and Kingfisher elements)
So it may be that Steiner would regard the “shadings of desire” hopefully imbued in the metaphor of any decent writing as the feminine aspect of the author communicating itself. Steiner continues his associations of the feminine with loquacity; “The alleged outpourings of a women’s speech, the rank flow of words,
may be a symbolic restatement of men’s apprehensive, often ignorant awareness of the menstrual cycle.” (Steiner, G. 1975, p42)
To think mythically around Steiner’s idea,we would now associate verbosity (rather, I suggest, eloquence), with the passage of the Moon.
The medieval phrase, ‘to drink down the moon’ suddenly becomes the chant of all storytellers in this light. However, as i wrote in the aformentioned book;
The word “moon” actually derives from the German der mond, connected to the word “Man”. We find male moon deities frequently, Tecciztecatl of the Aztecs, Mani of the Germanic tribes, Thoth of the Egyptians, Tskuyumi of the Japanese and Rahko of the Finns are just a small selection. (Author, ibid, p200)
However, when you get to 'La Luna' it takes off in another direction again...
It could be said that to know the moon is to be connected to thievery. Even his glow is stolen sunlight, reduced 500,000 times. Not content with stealing sunlight, the moon also has a penchant for pilfering colour. The gold of a cornfield or the crimson of a rose are quietly replaced by greys and blues, when moonlight's fingers fall on them. A lover of letters, he steals into books read at dusk-as we read in the gloom, words become indistinct as he scoops them up and carries them off. Night is the time of break-ins, affairs, slow time-ruptures to the agitated clock of light. At the same time however, we know that Moon replaces everything the next day, just as we left it-so he appears a cheeky thief rather than a savage robber. The Moon is also a friend to lovers, his inky sky covers them as a blanket, but his light offers a tiny trail to the sweethearts door. So to draw down the Moon brings a certain wiliness, a kind of cunning. (Author, ibid, p233)
Whatever cultural associations we have with the Moon, or which gender we regard as the most subtle in verbal nuance, the mythological certainly places metaphor as its key tool. In some respect we are returning to connotation not denotation. Metaphor contains generosity towards the reader’s imagination. It is a set of open doors impacted within the text, It is an offering from the storyteller to the reader.
Monday, 15 February 2010
Howdy. here are some more mutterings and additions to an ongoing essay regarding the oral tradition and the literary traditions.The 'real' piece is much more developed and fleshed out-this is really just an excuse to show some interesting quotes, and recognise that even 'literature' has many cultural connotations. This short edit offers not much in the way of synthesis of the two but is more of a call to paradox and not getting too hysterical and polarised over the two streams of story.Its kind of dry, so have a glass of water handy. One day i will put the whole thing up but too much needs tinkering with.Please take a look at the WHEEL OF STORY flyer-it promises to be rich.Looking forward to THE GREEN BREASTED MOTHER AND THE FLINTY MOUNTAIN FATHER school of myth gathering this weekend-new and deep leaps ahead.
SO: How does one stay true to the tradition of oral narrative whilst commiting to a written exegesis of the same stories to paper?
A paradox is something that appears self-contradictory, a thing that at some time, or from some point of view, appears to be what it is not…our ability to accept this ambiguity is also fundamental to our recognition and signification of change.
(1) A. David Napier, Masks, Transformation, and Paradox, (University of California, 1986) p1
(As a figure in mythology) Coyote’s movement through the worlds is both potent and fractured.. He diffuses righteousness, laughs at tribalism, steals fire from the gods and is ever present as circumstance, cultures and weather patterns jostle
with the inevitable changes of time. (Through study of Native American myths) we know that Coyote is a decentralized zone, that his life force exists in the tip of his nose and tail,not the broad central plain. We see he is elusive in texture and not located in geographical location or specific point in history but remains epistemic .Brian Maussmi refers to his footprints as nomadic thought. (2) Shaw, Lightning Tree.
If Trickster is the god of the storytellers then the above quote intimates a decentralised position for oral telling, that it resists anchoring too avidly to a written form, that it retains a freshness by living on the un-scripted tongue rather than page. However, it is almost entirely due to literature that we have these stories at all, so it is unwise to attack it too harshly. A tension does arise in the aspiration of both mediums however. Literature has often defined, marked out and emboldened both the author and culture it arises from. In the deliberate assemblage of words an agenda appears, an agenda that is defined and pristine within the mind of the writer.
Writing is discourse as intention-to-say and that writing is a direct inscription of this intention, even if, historically and psychologically, writing began with the graphic translation of the signs of speech. This emancipation of writing, which places the latter at the site of speech, is the birth of the text.
(3)Ricoeur, P. From Text to Action, Northwestern universities, 1986, p107
Of course the issue of ownership arises, the compartmentalising of wild image, the aspiration of empire. We have the strange thought of the upheaval and then preservation of oral stories in the literary tradition of the conquerors. This instigates grief but also a gratitude that we are able to experience them at all, even if it feels we are peering through glass. Myth offers secret histories; the geographical, religious and political developments of a particular region. Even when we encounter effectively the same story in a variety of landscapes, certain moments will rise and fall in emphasis, which offer valuable perspectives on the concerns and desires of that society, as opposed to their neighbours. James M. Taggart’s previously mentioned “The Bear and His Sons” is a good example of tracing such a process through differing languages and culture.
A concern is that the strongly muscled history of literature loses these inflections; there is only one version of ‘The Serpent and the Bear’ and this is its only interpretation. The story now bears the ambition of the writer, often without others in the community who have held the story most of their lives.
Dialogue is an exchange of questions and answers; there is no exchange of this sort between the writer and the reader. The writer does not respond to the reader. Rather, the book divides the act of writing and the act of reading into two sides, between which there is no communication…the text thus produces a double eclipse of the reader and the writer. It thereby replaces the relation of dialogue, which directly connects the voice of one to the hearing of the other.
(4)Ricouer.P. Ibid, p107
However, what it lacks in dialogue it may gain in sharpness of execution; certain processes of thought require expanded, uninterrupted plains of exegesis; a constant back-and-forth may dilute or subvert the original question. The book can also be utilised as a source of discussion when read by a number of readers. Ricouer is correct, however, in his initial sense of division between writer and reader. Writing is also more than just the transcribing of the oral to the page. As any public speaker will attest, the phrasing of effective oratory can be quite different to the inflections delivered to the written word. Literature offers other opportunities with language; it can sustain complexities that delivered orally would be almost impossible to digest. The reader also has the luxury of returning to certain key phrases, the integration of ideas can be slowed, repeated. Both offer related but different processes.
Unlike the oral tradition, the literary tale was written down to be read in private, although, in some cases, the fairy tales were read aloud in parlors. However, the book enabled the reader to withdraw from his or her society and be alone with a tale. This privatisation violated the communal aspect of the folk tale, but the very printing of a fairy tale was already a violation since it was based on a separation of social classes. Extremely few people could read, and the fairy tale in form and content furthered notions of elitism and separation. (5)Zipes. J Breaking the Disney Spell,p335
However, he goes onto add:
In some cases, the literary tales presented new material that was transformed through the oral tradition and returned later to literature by a writer who remembered hearing a particular story...There was always tension between the literary and oral traditions. The oral tales have continued to threaten the more conventional and classical tales because they can question, dislodge, and deconstruct the written tales. (6)p338
In some complicated form, both traditions are now feeding the other. There have been great losses on the side of the spoken word, but in the same moment it is literature that carries the skeleton of stories to a new generation. It is the job of the storyteller to continually reanimate these literary ‘bones’, with a linguistically mutable oral re-telling of these very stories.
Third possibilities
It is an academic artifice to imagine that a Lakota Native American cannot derive pleasure from a written Jungian commentary of a traditional story; the world of the primary peoples (indigenous cultures) are in just a state of rapid movement and influence as what we call ‘the west’. In five years of travelling with oral narratives, my experience is that humans of all cultural backgrounds seek connections between self and story, recognise shared mythic symbolism when it emerges, and can be quietly open to the mutable aspect of mythic consciousness.
However, caution is recommended in the generalisation of the word ‘literature’,
Native American poet Paula Gunn Allen (7) Allen. P.G. Symposium of the whole, university of california press, 1983,p174), opens its associations from her cultural perspective;
American Indian literature is not similar to western literature because the basic assumptions about the universe, and, therefore, the basic reality experienced by tribal peoples and westerners are not the same, even at the level of ‘folk lore’…the purpose…is never one of pure self- expression. The “private soul at any public wall” is a concept that is so alien to native thought as to constitute an absurdity.
The tribes do not celebrate the individual’s ability to feel emotion, for it is assumed all people are able to do so, making expression of this basic ability arrogant, presumptuous, and gratuitous…the tribes seek, through song, ceremony, legend, sacred story (myths), and tales to embody, articulate, and share reality, to bring the isolated private self into harmony and balance with this reality.
This does superficially appear to strike a different note to the cry for individuation we locate in the European myth of Parzival (8)Eschenbach. Wolfram Von, Parzival, trans.A. T. Hatto, Penguin,1980) -the great Grail story of Western literature: featuring the leaving of Camelot (the tribe), the rejecting of shared values and advice in the seeking of ones own vision, and the notion that true empathy can only arise from that search and elucidation of that vision in the world. That is, until you recognise its similarity to the process of the Vision Quest, an act that much of Native American religious life is suffused in.
The point of contrast is the world the initiate returns to.
In some regards, Allens sense of the Native approach to literature seems rather like the oral traditions position as opposed to early eighteenth century French literature in Jack Zipes essay, ‘Breaking the Disney Spell’; (9)Zipes, J. ibid, p332-352)
The emphasis in most folk tales was on communal harmony. A narrator or narrators old tales to bring members of a group or tribe closer together and to provide them with a sense of mission, a telos. With the rise of literacy and the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century, the oral tradition of storytelling underwent an immense revolution…(p333)
Zipes then goes onto to write about the move towards individuation, solitude and hierarchy we have already noted. Allen’s oddly monotheistic appraisal suggests that the personal awakening of the Native ‘quester’ can still be easily integrated into the wider pantheon of song, ritual and story, whereas the westener is far more likely to be at odds with the society at large they return too, even if the experience was very similar.
Could it be that at this point in time western literature requires more of an emphasis on the individual to actually allow a more radical, inter-relational dialogue with the earth to emerge, because, unlike Allen’s picture of the American Indian world, it lacks the binding glue of “song, ceremony, legend?” It may be that this essay, which is truly Allen’s reviled “self-expression”, is seeking to open a door to a series of values she would understand very well, and that within the paradoxical collision of literature (in all its forms), oral narrative, and art practice is to orientate towards a ground of research that appears lest polarised, and open to new expressions of what myth could mean for us today.
Story is quite capable of accommodating both the communal and the solitary, (village and forest) and the twenty first century mind is able to comprehend the subtle differences of experience that both offer. It is quite correct to offer caution in the way both Zipes and Allen do, and at the same time hold that the contrary spirit of myth finds ways to flourish in both and possibly as yet unimagined configurations.
What is needed is, not the merely logical, but the mytho-logical-a leaping consciousness, the generative tension…between the “unspeakable visions of the individual” and “the reconstructed tale of the tribe” (10)Deardorff.D. Ibid. p40)
SO: How does one stay true to the tradition of oral narrative whilst commiting to a written exegesis of the same stories to paper?
A paradox is something that appears self-contradictory, a thing that at some time, or from some point of view, appears to be what it is not…our ability to accept this ambiguity is also fundamental to our recognition and signification of change.
(1) A. David Napier, Masks, Transformation, and Paradox, (University of California, 1986) p1
(As a figure in mythology) Coyote’s movement through the worlds is both potent and fractured.. He diffuses righteousness, laughs at tribalism, steals fire from the gods and is ever present as circumstance, cultures and weather patterns jostle
with the inevitable changes of time. (Through study of Native American myths) we know that Coyote is a decentralized zone, that his life force exists in the tip of his nose and tail,not the broad central plain. We see he is elusive in texture and not located in geographical location or specific point in history but remains epistemic .Brian Maussmi refers to his footprints as nomadic thought. (2) Shaw, Lightning Tree.
If Trickster is the god of the storytellers then the above quote intimates a decentralised position for oral telling, that it resists anchoring too avidly to a written form, that it retains a freshness by living on the un-scripted tongue rather than page. However, it is almost entirely due to literature that we have these stories at all, so it is unwise to attack it too harshly. A tension does arise in the aspiration of both mediums however. Literature has often defined, marked out and emboldened both the author and culture it arises from. In the deliberate assemblage of words an agenda appears, an agenda that is defined and pristine within the mind of the writer.
Writing is discourse as intention-to-say and that writing is a direct inscription of this intention, even if, historically and psychologically, writing began with the graphic translation of the signs of speech. This emancipation of writing, which places the latter at the site of speech, is the birth of the text.
(3)Ricoeur, P. From Text to Action, Northwestern universities, 1986, p107
Of course the issue of ownership arises, the compartmentalising of wild image, the aspiration of empire. We have the strange thought of the upheaval and then preservation of oral stories in the literary tradition of the conquerors. This instigates grief but also a gratitude that we are able to experience them at all, even if it feels we are peering through glass. Myth offers secret histories; the geographical, religious and political developments of a particular region. Even when we encounter effectively the same story in a variety of landscapes, certain moments will rise and fall in emphasis, which offer valuable perspectives on the concerns and desires of that society, as opposed to their neighbours. James M. Taggart’s previously mentioned “The Bear and His Sons” is a good example of tracing such a process through differing languages and culture.
A concern is that the strongly muscled history of literature loses these inflections; there is only one version of ‘The Serpent and the Bear’ and this is its only interpretation. The story now bears the ambition of the writer, often without others in the community who have held the story most of their lives.
Dialogue is an exchange of questions and answers; there is no exchange of this sort between the writer and the reader. The writer does not respond to the reader. Rather, the book divides the act of writing and the act of reading into two sides, between which there is no communication…the text thus produces a double eclipse of the reader and the writer. It thereby replaces the relation of dialogue, which directly connects the voice of one to the hearing of the other.
(4)Ricouer.P. Ibid, p107
However, what it lacks in dialogue it may gain in sharpness of execution; certain processes of thought require expanded, uninterrupted plains of exegesis; a constant back-and-forth may dilute or subvert the original question. The book can also be utilised as a source of discussion when read by a number of readers. Ricouer is correct, however, in his initial sense of division between writer and reader. Writing is also more than just the transcribing of the oral to the page. As any public speaker will attest, the phrasing of effective oratory can be quite different to the inflections delivered to the written word. Literature offers other opportunities with language; it can sustain complexities that delivered orally would be almost impossible to digest. The reader also has the luxury of returning to certain key phrases, the integration of ideas can be slowed, repeated. Both offer related but different processes.
Unlike the oral tradition, the literary tale was written down to be read in private, although, in some cases, the fairy tales were read aloud in parlors. However, the book enabled the reader to withdraw from his or her society and be alone with a tale. This privatisation violated the communal aspect of the folk tale, but the very printing of a fairy tale was already a violation since it was based on a separation of social classes. Extremely few people could read, and the fairy tale in form and content furthered notions of elitism and separation. (5)Zipes. J Breaking the Disney Spell,p335
However, he goes onto add:
In some cases, the literary tales presented new material that was transformed through the oral tradition and returned later to literature by a writer who remembered hearing a particular story...There was always tension between the literary and oral traditions. The oral tales have continued to threaten the more conventional and classical tales because they can question, dislodge, and deconstruct the written tales. (6)p338
In some complicated form, both traditions are now feeding the other. There have been great losses on the side of the spoken word, but in the same moment it is literature that carries the skeleton of stories to a new generation. It is the job of the storyteller to continually reanimate these literary ‘bones’, with a linguistically mutable oral re-telling of these very stories.
Third possibilities
It is an academic artifice to imagine that a Lakota Native American cannot derive pleasure from a written Jungian commentary of a traditional story; the world of the primary peoples (indigenous cultures) are in just a state of rapid movement and influence as what we call ‘the west’. In five years of travelling with oral narratives, my experience is that humans of all cultural backgrounds seek connections between self and story, recognise shared mythic symbolism when it emerges, and can be quietly open to the mutable aspect of mythic consciousness.
However, caution is recommended in the generalisation of the word ‘literature’,
Native American poet Paula Gunn Allen (7) Allen. P.G. Symposium of the whole, university of california press, 1983,p174), opens its associations from her cultural perspective;
American Indian literature is not similar to western literature because the basic assumptions about the universe, and, therefore, the basic reality experienced by tribal peoples and westerners are not the same, even at the level of ‘folk lore’…the purpose…is never one of pure self- expression. The “private soul at any public wall” is a concept that is so alien to native thought as to constitute an absurdity.
The tribes do not celebrate the individual’s ability to feel emotion, for it is assumed all people are able to do so, making expression of this basic ability arrogant, presumptuous, and gratuitous…the tribes seek, through song, ceremony, legend, sacred story (myths), and tales to embody, articulate, and share reality, to bring the isolated private self into harmony and balance with this reality.
This does superficially appear to strike a different note to the cry for individuation we locate in the European myth of Parzival (8)Eschenbach. Wolfram Von, Parzival, trans.A. T. Hatto, Penguin,1980) -the great Grail story of Western literature: featuring the leaving of Camelot (the tribe), the rejecting of shared values and advice in the seeking of ones own vision, and the notion that true empathy can only arise from that search and elucidation of that vision in the world. That is, until you recognise its similarity to the process of the Vision Quest, an act that much of Native American religious life is suffused in.
The point of contrast is the world the initiate returns to.
In some regards, Allens sense of the Native approach to literature seems rather like the oral traditions position as opposed to early eighteenth century French literature in Jack Zipes essay, ‘Breaking the Disney Spell’; (9)Zipes, J. ibid, p332-352)
The emphasis in most folk tales was on communal harmony. A narrator or narrators old tales to bring members of a group or tribe closer together and to provide them with a sense of mission, a telos. With the rise of literacy and the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century, the oral tradition of storytelling underwent an immense revolution…(p333)
Zipes then goes onto to write about the move towards individuation, solitude and hierarchy we have already noted. Allen’s oddly monotheistic appraisal suggests that the personal awakening of the Native ‘quester’ can still be easily integrated into the wider pantheon of song, ritual and story, whereas the westener is far more likely to be at odds with the society at large they return too, even if the experience was very similar.
Could it be that at this point in time western literature requires more of an emphasis on the individual to actually allow a more radical, inter-relational dialogue with the earth to emerge, because, unlike Allen’s picture of the American Indian world, it lacks the binding glue of “song, ceremony, legend?” It may be that this essay, which is truly Allen’s reviled “self-expression”, is seeking to open a door to a series of values she would understand very well, and that within the paradoxical collision of literature (in all its forms), oral narrative, and art practice is to orientate towards a ground of research that appears lest polarised, and open to new expressions of what myth could mean for us today.
Story is quite capable of accommodating both the communal and the solitary, (village and forest) and the twenty first century mind is able to comprehend the subtle differences of experience that both offer. It is quite correct to offer caution in the way both Zipes and Allen do, and at the same time hold that the contrary spirit of myth finds ways to flourish in both and possibly as yet unimagined configurations.
What is needed is, not the merely logical, but the mytho-logical-a leaping consciousness, the generative tension…between the “unspeakable visions of the individual” and “the reconstructed tale of the tribe” (10)Deardorff.D. Ibid. p40)
Monday, 8 February 2010
THE WILDCATS FUR
First things first…the brand new, sizzling, eye-turning new school website is up at:
http://www.schoolofmyth.com
Designed by the incandescent hand of Ian Forster of graphic alchemy- he’s a baying hound of inspiration, happily trotting through the forests of images.
Check him out today at:
http://www.graphicalchemy.co.uk
Sizzling in the Image-Cauldron
Just back from another wonderful weekend at The School of Myth. Hard study, huge creative bursts, big joy and deep feeling. The stories landed hard, the mist rolled in and a Fox came from the Otherworld to visit many of us-a breathing, curious, non-metaphorical one. Thank you one and all and see you at PARZIVAL In only just over a month!more on that soon-and to students, remember-the best way to ground these dizzying leaps is with study-find that lofty companion. more soon x.
An aside...
On two Saturdays ago I was up in Dorset, to the Bridport art centre to enjoy my good buddy Matthew Burtons day of Harold Pinter related topics. Matthew was close to Pinter in his last years and was directing a reading and showing a documentary. Pinters widow, Lady Antonia Frazer was also gave a good, mildly cantankerous interview with our hero. Matthew was very composed, and wrily amused at her occasional splutter. Having interviewed Bly last year I know what that arena can be like. He threw a glass of water at me and I hit him with a book. Gently.
As I got out of my battered but wonderful renault espace into the Bridport sunshine, the very first person I saw was none other than our very own, proper Rock Star, P. J. Harvey. International readers may not be aware of Ms. Harvey, but she’s a sort of deviant art-school hybrid daughter of Patti Smith and Captain Beefheart with a dash of commercial sass. I say a dash though, for the main she seems to have stayed close to her muse. You may enjoy her ‘songs from the city, songs from the sea’ record, although she claims she had lost her way somewhat when she wrote it. Still, as we know, losing your way is where many of the great stories begin.
She had good boots and a feeling of the solitary. Came to Matthews event too. Think she was stalking us to get a free place at PARZIVAL.
NEW WORKSHOPS 2010: The Voyaging Heart and the Courted Soul
It feels like a week of announcements. I begin a seasonal series of day workshops; “The Wheel of Story” in April –details and links on the courses page of the new website. Set in the stunning surrounds of the Bone Hill retreat centre on Dartmoor, ‘The Voyaging Heart and the Courted Soul’ is the first day. Working with the great Celtic love story TRISTAN AND ISOLDE we will explore the notion of spring, amor, chivalry, ecstatic courtship, the relationship between soul and spirit, supported by personal creative writing and a peer into the mesmeric worlds of the troubadours, Rumi, Hafez, D. H. Lawrence and others. All about the business of love and voyages. Expect solo time with the mossy hills and granite tors too. This has very limited numbers so get in touch today as we expect this to fill quickly. For those that fancy a rather elegant dip into the myth world-lovely sofas, spacious loos, graceful surroundings, this if for you. A steal at £60-please spread the word.
For locals with a taste for story get along to musician and storyteller Christine Coopers new night of storytelling in Totnes, Devon-
‘Stories from the Butterwalk’.Come along to Bogan House (through the Costume Museum, 47 High St, Totnes) on next Tuesday, Februar y 9th, to share in the delights of stories new and old, accompanied by home-made cakes tea, and a lovely Edwardian ceiling. Bring your own drink if you fancy something stronger. All welcome, to tell or to listen! First time or seasoned tellers, come one come all! The fun will begin at 8pm, and they ask for a £2 donation to cover costs.
Sounds great.
TAKING HOLD OF THE WILDCATS FUR
is the title of the 2010 Great Mother conference in Maine, U.S. this first week in June. Go to
http://www.greatmotherconference.com for details.
I shall be teaching there alongside Robert Bly, Lewis Hyde, Coleman Barks, Gioia Timpanelli, Tony Hoagland, Caroline Casey and more. From there I shall head over to California for work in Los Angeles (with ‘the Doors’ John Densmore and Daniel Deardorff’ then up to San Francisco to be reunited with the big bear Coleman for one last ecstatic tango. As soon as I have dates and titles they will go on websites and this. There will be a New York and Vermont pit stop too…….
An old clan motto from my family is 'touch not the cat without a glove' so the conference promises much..
For those of you who’d like a taster of the Great Mother Conference but are low on dough, you may want to get to the ‘wheel of story’ workshops as they will hold many of the ideas and stories I will be carrying over to Turtle Island.
Of course, I can’t fill all these other titans shoes, but it will be juicy.
http://www.schoolofmyth.com
Designed by the incandescent hand of Ian Forster of graphic alchemy- he’s a baying hound of inspiration, happily trotting through the forests of images.
Check him out today at:
http://www.graphicalchemy.co.uk
Sizzling in the Image-Cauldron
Just back from another wonderful weekend at The School of Myth. Hard study, huge creative bursts, big joy and deep feeling. The stories landed hard, the mist rolled in and a Fox came from the Otherworld to visit many of us-a breathing, curious, non-metaphorical one. Thank you one and all and see you at PARZIVAL In only just over a month!more on that soon-and to students, remember-the best way to ground these dizzying leaps is with study-find that lofty companion. more soon x.
An aside...
On two Saturdays ago I was up in Dorset, to the Bridport art centre to enjoy my good buddy Matthew Burtons day of Harold Pinter related topics. Matthew was close to Pinter in his last years and was directing a reading and showing a documentary. Pinters widow, Lady Antonia Frazer was also gave a good, mildly cantankerous interview with our hero. Matthew was very composed, and wrily amused at her occasional splutter. Having interviewed Bly last year I know what that arena can be like. He threw a glass of water at me and I hit him with a book. Gently.
As I got out of my battered but wonderful renault espace into the Bridport sunshine, the very first person I saw was none other than our very own, proper Rock Star, P. J. Harvey. International readers may not be aware of Ms. Harvey, but she’s a sort of deviant art-school hybrid daughter of Patti Smith and Captain Beefheart with a dash of commercial sass. I say a dash though, for the main she seems to have stayed close to her muse. You may enjoy her ‘songs from the city, songs from the sea’ record, although she claims she had lost her way somewhat when she wrote it. Still, as we know, losing your way is where many of the great stories begin.
She had good boots and a feeling of the solitary. Came to Matthews event too. Think she was stalking us to get a free place at PARZIVAL.
NEW WORKSHOPS 2010: The Voyaging Heart and the Courted Soul
It feels like a week of announcements. I begin a seasonal series of day workshops; “The Wheel of Story” in April –details and links on the courses page of the new website. Set in the stunning surrounds of the Bone Hill retreat centre on Dartmoor, ‘The Voyaging Heart and the Courted Soul’ is the first day. Working with the great Celtic love story TRISTAN AND ISOLDE we will explore the notion of spring, amor, chivalry, ecstatic courtship, the relationship between soul and spirit, supported by personal creative writing and a peer into the mesmeric worlds of the troubadours, Rumi, Hafez, D. H. Lawrence and others. All about the business of love and voyages. Expect solo time with the mossy hills and granite tors too. This has very limited numbers so get in touch today as we expect this to fill quickly. For those that fancy a rather elegant dip into the myth world-lovely sofas, spacious loos, graceful surroundings, this if for you. A steal at £60-please spread the word.
For locals with a taste for story get along to musician and storyteller Christine Coopers new night of storytelling in Totnes, Devon-
‘Stories from the Butterwalk’.Come along to Bogan House (through the Costume Museum, 47 High St, Totnes) on next Tuesday, Februar y 9th, to share in the delights of stories new and old, accompanied by home-made cakes tea, and a lovely Edwardian ceiling. Bring your own drink if you fancy something stronger. All welcome, to tell or to listen! First time or seasoned tellers, come one come all! The fun will begin at 8pm, and they ask for a £2 donation to cover costs.
Sounds great.
TAKING HOLD OF THE WILDCATS FUR
is the title of the 2010 Great Mother conference in Maine, U.S. this first week in June. Go to
http://www.greatmotherconference.com for details.
I shall be teaching there alongside Robert Bly, Lewis Hyde, Coleman Barks, Gioia Timpanelli, Tony Hoagland, Caroline Casey and more. From there I shall head over to California for work in Los Angeles (with ‘the Doors’ John Densmore and Daniel Deardorff’ then up to San Francisco to be reunited with the big bear Coleman for one last ecstatic tango. As soon as I have dates and titles they will go on websites and this. There will be a New York and Vermont pit stop too…….
An old clan motto from my family is 'touch not the cat without a glove' so the conference promises much..
For those of you who’d like a taster of the Great Mother Conference but are low on dough, you may want to get to the ‘wheel of story’ workshops as they will hold many of the ideas and stories I will be carrying over to Turtle Island.
Of course, I can’t fill all these other titans shoes, but it will be juicy.
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