Read Oral Literature in Africa Online
Authors: Ruth Finnegan
These praise names are used on a variety of occasions. One is on any rather formal occasion in which polite exchange is expected. They are shouted out during the ritualized combats that take place in public at a certain stage in funeral celebrations; during other stages of the mortuary ceremonies it is the dead man’s praise name that is called—he is addressed by this full title and conjured to leave his people in peace. Praise names are also much used at a time of physical exertion, especially in the farms. When a group of young Dogon men join together to work, as custom demands, in their father-in-law’s fields, they cry out each other’s praise name to incite them to greater efforts, calling on their
amour propre
and evoking the names of the ancestors from whom the names were severally inherited and of whom each individual must show himself worthy (Lifchitz and Paulme 1953: 343–4; de Ganay 1941: 47ff). Though the outward contexts for these names are so different, they have something in common: ‘la criée du
tige
présente presque toujours un caractère déclamatoire ou solennel qui diffère nettement de l’énoncé du nom et du ton habituel de la conversation’ (Lifchitz and Paulme 1953: 344).
These formally used Dogon titles are something far more evocative and meaningful than anything we normally understand from the everyday sense of the term ‘name’. As Lifchitz and Paulme sum up its uses, it is clear that the Dogon
tige
has relevance for their literature and could not easily be dismissed as a mere label for some individual: ‘il est en même temps formule de politesse, voeu, exhortation, flatterie, remerciement et moquerie’ (Lifchitz and Paulme 1953: 343).
Praise names in general, then, evoke more than just their individual referent on a particular occasion. Expressed through a conventionally recognized artistic form, often marked by elliptical or metaphorical language, they can bring a range of associations to mind and put the bearer and utterer of the name in a wider perspective—either placing him within a whole class of similar beings (in the case of category praise names) or (with personal names) invoking some proverb of more general application or referring to some quality which the bearer is believed, or hoped, or flatteringly imagined to possess.
There remain two other forms of names to mention briefly. First, the use of names on drums (or other instruments). By a technique described in the next chapter, long forms of personal names are very popular items for transmission on drums. Elaborate forms appear in this context, many of them very similar to the praise names just discussed. ‘Spitting snake whose poison does not lose its virulence, sharp harpoon, from the village of Yatuka’, ‘Chief who takes revenge, who stabs civet-cats, root of the neck of the elephant, son of him who sets his face to war …’, ‘The man who is to be trusted with palavers, son of him who bears the blame …’, ‘Bright light does not enter the forest, elder of the village of Yaatelia’ (Carrington 1949
b
: 87; 92; 99; 102)—these are all drum names or portions of drum names used in various areas of the Congo. In savannah areas it is not drums but whistles that are used for this kind of transmission. Nicolas has made a collection of such praise names from the Lyele of Upper Volta, names which in many respects resemble the Dogon
tige
but with the difference that they are thought most effective when whistled. The names bear some relation to proverbs, though forming a distinct literary genre, and include such colourful phrases as ‘Les pas du lézard sont sonores dans les feuilles (sèches)’, ‘Le vent de la tornade ne casse pas la montagne’, ‘Le tambour de l’orage fait sursauter le monde entier’, or ‘On ne prend pas (a pleine main) la petite vipère’ (Nicolas 1950: 89, 97, 92; 1954: 88). These names add to the prestige of chiefs and leaders when they are whistled by those who surround them or escort them on their journeys.
Secondly, a word about some personal names other than those directly applied to people. Besides the generic praise and drum names already mentioned, personal names are also sometimes attached to certain things which, for the particular people involved, are of special emotional or symbolic interest. Among some Congolese peoples, for instance, the drums themselves have their own names—’Mouthpiece of the village’, ‘In the morning it does not tell of death’, ‘Drifting about from place to place (as water in a canoe) it has no father’. (Carrington 1949
b
: 107, also 1956). Dogs (see examples above) and occasionally horses (see the
noms de guerre
of horses in Griaule 1942) may be given names, and another frequent object for evocative and metaphorical naming is cattle (see e.g. Hauenstein 1962: 112ff. (Ovimbundu); Evans-Pritchard 1934 (Dinka); Morris 1964: 24–5 (Ankole). In some cases these names reflect back, as it were, on human beings; with dogs’ names this is sometimes) with an insulting intention; cattle names are more often used in a laudatory and honorific sense, as, for example, the ‘ox-names’ given to human beings in many East African areas (see e.g. Gulliver 1952, Evans-Pritchard 1948).
The exact literary value of these names cannot be fully assessed without further research, particularly on their actual contexts of use and on the relationship between these forms and other literary genres in a given culture. But we can certainly find some literary significance in the occurrence of these condensed, evocative, and often proverbial or figurative forms of words which appear as personal names in African languages—sometimes appearing directly as elements in large-scale creations, sometimes affording scope for imagery, depth, personal expressiveness, succinct comment, or imaginative overtones in otherwise non-literary modes of speech.
27
In this chapter we have worked our way down the scale from the fuller forms like oratory or formalized prayer to small-scale phenomena like puns, tongue-twisters, and, finally, names. It is not claimed that all these forms necessarily present any very profound or polished instances of oral literature. Some are of only marginal interest (at least in most cultures) and are of minor significance compared to the more complex forms discussed in earlier chapters. However, in some cases they provide recognized literary genres in their own right, in others they provide the elements out of which
more elaborate forms may be built up, in others again they provide the essential background of a popular interest in words out of which the gifted artist can mould his own individual work of art. It is not only in non-literate cultures that these oral forms take on a literary relevance. Even in literate societies there are such conventions—among them the art of conversation, of sermons, of ‘extempore’ but stylized witty speeches—that may play an indispensable, though often unrecognized, part in the flowering of an accepted literature. But it seems to be above all in cultures without our current distinction between formal written literature on the one hand and ‘informal’ spoken words on the other that the artistic significance of these oral forms can most clearly be seen.
Footnotes
1
See e.g. Koelle 1854: vii (Kanuri); Tracey 1962: 26 (Karanga); Rodegem 1960 (Rundi); Andrzejewski and Lewis 1964: 4 (Somali); Tew 1950 (Lele); Jones 1964: 24 (Krio in election speeches, etc., on public platforms).
2
Quoted in Brandel 1961: 39-40, from Verwilghen 1952: 3.
3
The literary aspects of some of these conventionalized utterances are discussed in the following section.
4
The account given here is based on field-work among the Limba in 1961 and 1963–64.
5
A summary paraphrase of a speech on which I made notes in 1961 but did not have the opportunity to record word for word.
6
Someone who above all, in Limba philosophy, should receive respect.
7
i.e. if God disapproves of a man’s behaviour, he may send sickness to kill him.
8
i.e. in the form of one of the birds that consume huge quantities of rice in the fields.
9
i.e. created us as men.
10
This is a prayer to appease the Spirit when there have been many deaths.
11
Theuws 1954: 83. This is a prayer by a hunter.
12
i.e. he had not offended the Spirit or deserved his misfortune.
13
The frequent use of rhythmic phrases, for example, has more often been associated with its function in aiding memorization than with its literary effectiveness in heightening the intensity and tone of the words.
14
For some further examples or discussions of prayers see, for example, Boccassino 1949; Evans-Pritchard 1952; Werner 1914; Van Caeneghem 1944, 1947; de Pelichy 1959 (AA 12. 4); Nketia 1963
c
; Calame-Griaule 1965: 408ff; and Dieterlen 1965.
15
e.g. Akan instructions quoted in Rattray 1929: 82.
16
i.e. not treating it sternly as a temptation.
17
See also examples quoted from West Equatorial Africa in
Ch. 11
.
18
Arnott also discusses the phonetic bases of these tongue-twisters. For Hausa examples see Fletcher 1912:56 ff.; Tremearne 1913: 66–7. Also Gowlett 1966; Dundes 1964.
19
Because large drums are sometimes carried and played by camel riders in processions. See also the similar Fulani ‘chain-rhyme’, also based on a series of double meanings, quoted in Arnott 1957: 394; and the simpler examples in Tremearne 1913: 67.
20
See also the similar Fulani ‘chain-rhyme’, also based on a series of double meaning, quoted in Arnott 1957: 394, and the simpler examples in Tremearne 1913: 67.
21
e.g. among the Yoruba (Ellis 1894: 242), Hausa (Fletcher 1912: 58), Azande (Evans-Pritchard 1961), Limba (Finnegan, fieldnotes); for longer forms built up on such calls, see instances and references in Ch. 9.
22
Some further Karanga examples are given in Ch. 14. For a similar use of dogs’ names among the Gbeya of the Central African Republic see Samarin 1965
b
.
23
This is not, however, the place for a detailed description of such questions as who gives names in various societies, how and when they are conferred, ortheir varying subject-matter, important though these points may be for the meaning and use of the name.
24
Similar instances a recorded among the Fon of Dahomey (da Cruz 1956) and the Bini of Nigeria (Omijeh 1966).
25
For details about their distribution see Bascom 1965a: 485; de Ganay 1941: Lifchitz and Paulme 1953: 354; to which add the za-yil of the Lyele of Upper Volta (Nicolas 1950–54).
26
Tremearne 1913: 174–6; further examples of these Hausa kirari in Ch. 5.
27
For some further discussion and instances of names in addition to references cited in this chapter and in the Bibliography see, among many other articles Holas 1953, Houis 1963; Spiess 1918.
IV. SOME SPECIAL FORMS
17. Drum Language and Literature
1
Introductory—The Principles of Drum Language. Examples of Drum Literature: Announcements and Calls; Names; Proverbs; Poetry. Conclusion
.
I
A remarkable phenomenon in parts of West and Central Africa is the literature played on drums and certain other musical instruments. That this is indeed a form of literature rather than music is clear when the principles of drum language are understood. Although its literary significance has been overlooked in general discussions of African oral literature, (e.g. Bascom 1964, 1965
a
; Berry 1961; Herskovits 1960), expression through drums often forms a not inconsiderable branch of the literature of a number of African societies.
Communication through drums can be divided into two types. The first is through a conventional code where pre-arranged signals represent a given message; in this type there is no directly linguistic basis for the communication. In the second type, the one used for African drum literature and the form to be considered here, the instruments communicate through direct representation of the spoken language itself, simulating the tone and rhythm of actual speech. The instruments themselves are regarded as speaking and their messages consist of words. Such communication, unlike that through conventional signals, is intended as a
linguistic
one; it can only
be fully appreciated by translating it into words, and any musical effects are purely incidental.
This expression of words through instruments rests on the fact that the African languages involved are highly tonal; that is, the meanings of words are distinguished not only by phonetic elements but by their tones, in some cases by tone alone. It is the tone patterns of the words that are directly transmitted, and the drums and other instruments involved are constructed so as to provide at least two tones for use in this way. The intelligibility of the message to the hearer is also sometimes increased by the rhythmic pattern, again directly representing that of the spoken utterance.
It might seem at first sight as if tonal patterns, even when supplemented by rhythm, might provide but a slight clue to the actual words of the message. After all, many words in a given language possess the same combination of tones. However, there are various devices in ‘drum language’ to overcome this. There is, of course, the obvious point that there are conventional occasions and types of communication for transmission on the drum, so that the listener already has some idea of the range of meanings that are likely at any given time. More significant are the stereotyped phrases used in drum communications. These are often longer than the straight-forward prose of everyday utterance, but the very extra length of the drum stereotypes or holophrases leads to greater identifiability in rhythmic and tonal patterning.
The principle can be illustrated from the Kele people of the Stanleyville area of the Congo, whose drum language has been extensively studied by Carrington (1944, 1949
a
, 1949
b
). In the Kele language the words meaning, for example, ‘manioc’, ‘plantain’, ‘above’, and ‘forest’ all have identical tonal and rhythmic patterns. By the addition of other words, however, a stereotyped drum phrase is made up through which complete tonal and rhythmic differentiation is achieved and the meaning transmitted without ambiguity. Thus ‘manioc’ is always represented on the drums with the tonal pattern of ‘the manioc which remains in the fallow ground’, ‘plantain’ with ‘plantain to be propped up’, and so on. Among the Kele there are a great number of these ‘proverb-like phrases’ to refer to nouns (Carrington 1949
a
: 38). ‘Money’, for instance, is conventionally drummed as ‘the pieces of metal which arrange palavers’, ‘rain’ as ‘the bad spirit son of spitting cobra and sunshine’, ‘moon’ or ‘month’ as ‘the moon looks down at the earth’, ‘a white man’ as ‘red as copper, spirit from the forest’ or ‘he enslaves the people, he enslaves the people who remain in the land’, while ‘war’ always appears as ‘war watches for opportunities’. Verbs are similarly represented
in long stereotyped phrases. Among the Kele these drum phrases have their own characteristic forms—marked by such attributes as the use of duplication and repetition, derogatory and diminutive terms, specific tonal contrasts, and typical structures
1
and it is evident that they not only make for clear differentiation of intended meanings but also, in Carrington’s words, are often ‘poetical in nature and constitute an important part of the oral literature of the tribe’ (discussed in detail in Carrington 1949
b
: 47–54).
The sort of communication that can be sent using these drum phrases can be illustrated from the Kele drum representation of a simple message. It will be noticed how much longer the drum form is, both because of the repetition necessary to make the meaning clear and the use of the lengthy stereotyped phrases. The message to be conveyed is: ‘The missionary is coming up river to our village tomorrow. Bring water and firewood to his house.’ The drum version runs:
White man spirit from the forest
of the leaf used for roofs
1
comes up-river, comes up-river
when to-morrow has risen
on high in the sky
to the town and the village
of us
come, come, come, come
bring water of lokoila vine
bring sticks of firewood
to the house with shingles high up above
2
of the white man spirit from the forest
of the leaf used for roofs.
(Carrington 1949
b
: 54)
3
Expression through drums, once thought so mysterious by visitors who failed to grasp its principles, thus turns out to be based directly on actual words and their tones. In a sense drum language fulfils many of the functions of writing, in a form, furthermore, better suited to tonal languages than
an alphabetical script (a point made in Jahn 1961: 187ff.). Its usefulness too is undeniable in regions of dense forest where the only possible way of communicating, apart from actually sending messengers, was by sound.
4
This type of drum communication is known to occur widely in the Congo, Cameroons, and West Africa (particularly the coastal areas). The same principle—that of representing the tones of actual speech through stereotyped phrases—is also used for ‘spoken’ communication through other instruments such as horns, flutes, or gongs.
5
Among some peoples such as the Ashanti or the Yoruba, drum language and literature are very highly developed indeed. In such cases, drumming tends to be a specialized and often hereditary activity, and expert drummers with a mastery of the accepted vocabulary of drum language and literature were often attached to a king’s court. This type of expression is a highly skilled and artistic one and adds to the verbal resources of the language.
II
The relevance of drum language for oral literature is not confined to utilitarian messages with a marginally literary flavour. As will emerge clearly from some further examples, this type of medium can also be used for specifically literary forms, for proverbs, panegyrics, historical poems, dirges, and in some cultures practically any kind of poetry. Something of the range and variety of this literature can be seen in the following examples, beginning with relatively simple messages, more typical of the Congo area and going on to some of the complex poetry found most characteristically in the southern areas of West Africa.
Among the Kele in the Congo, drum communication is used for formalized announcements. There are drum messages about, for instance, births, marriages, deaths, and forthcoming hunts or wrestling matches. A death is publicized on the drum by a special alert signal and the words, beaten out in drum language,
You will cry, you will cry, you will cry
Tears in the eyes
Wailing in the mouth.
(Carrington 1949
b
: 58)
followed by the name and village of the dead man (Ibid.: 65). The announcement of an enemy’s approach is also transmitted by a special alert and the drummed tones which represent the words
War which watches for opportunities
has come to the town
belonging to us
oday as it has dawned come,
come, come, come.
(Idem: 65)
Another stock communication is the announcement of a dance, again with the drum speaking in standardized and repetitive phrases:
All of you, all of you
come, come, come, come,
let us dance
in the evening
when the sky has gone down river
down to the ground.
(Ibid.: 61–2).
3
A final Kele message warns that rain is imminent and advises those in the forest or near the village to take shelter:
Look out, look out, look out, rain,
bad spirit, son of the spitting snake
do not come down, do not come down, do not come down
to the clods, to the earth
for we men of the village
will enter the house
do not come down, do not come down, do not come down.
(Ibid.: 88)
Not all the peoples choose the same topics for these standardized drum announcements. Among the Akan, for instance, births, ordinary deaths, and marriages are not normally publicized on drums (Nketia 1963
b
: 43). However, the use of drums to announce some emergency and, in particular, to call to arms seems very common indeed. In some cases this takes a very elaborate and poetic form. Compare, for instance, the simple and relatively straightforward call to fight among the Tumba of the Congo—
Make the drum strong;
strengthen your legs,
spear, shaft and head,
and the noise of moving feet;
think not to run away.
(Clarke 1934: 39)
—with the literary and emotional quality typical of the specialized military drumming of the Akan of Ghana, exemplified in one of their drum calls:
Bodyguard as strong as iron,
Fire that devours the nations,
Curved stick of iron,
We have leapt across the sea,
How much more the lagoon?
If any river is big, is it bigger than the sea?
Come Bodyguard, come Bodyguard,
Come in thick numbers,
Locusts in myriads,
When we climb a rock it gives way under our feet.
Locusts in myriads,
When we climb a rock it breaks into two.
Come Bodyguard, come Bodyguard,
In thick numbers.
(Nketia 1963
b
: 111–2)
Besides messages and announcements, drum language is also used for names. This is one of the most common forms of drum expression and occurs even among people who do not seem to have other more complicated drum poetry. Among the Hausa, for instance, praise names and titles of rulers are poured forth on drums or horns on certain public occasions (Smith 1957: 29), and the Lyele proverb names (surnoms-devises) are commonly performed in the analogous whistle language (Nicolas 1950: 87); in both cases this amounts to special praise and flattery of the individuals named.
Personal drum names are usually long and elaborate. In the Benue-Cross River area of Nigeria, for instance, they are compounded of references to a man’s father’s lineage, events in his personal life, and his own personal name (Armstong 1954: 361). Similarly among the Tumba of the Congo, all-important men in the village (and sometimes others as well) have drum names: these are usually made up of a motto emphasizing some individual characteristic, then the ordinary spoken name; thus a Belgian government official can be alluded to on the drums as ‘A stinging caterpillar is not good disturbed’ (Clarke 1934: 38). Carrington describes the Kele drum names in some detail. Each man has a drum name given him by his father, made up of three parts: first the individual’s own name; then a portion of his father’s name; and finally the name of his mother’s village. Thus the full
name of one man runs ‘The spitting cobra whose virulence never abates, son of the bad spirit with the spear, Yangonde’. Other drum names (i.e. the individual’s portion) include such comments as ‘The proud man will never listen to advice’, ‘Owner of the town with the sheathed knife’, ‘The moon looks down at the earth / son of the younger member of the family’, and, from the nearby Mba people, ‘You remain in the village, you are ignorant of affairs’ (Carrington 1949
a
: 41ff.; and 1949
b
: 87, 107).
These drum names often play a significant part in the societies in which they occur. Their use in the conveying of messages is quite clear—the elaborateness of the names in this context has the directly utilitarian function of differentiating the tonal patterns without the possibility of ambiguity. They are also frequently used in the context of dances, entertainments, and festivals: they call on those present to encourage or to praise them by singling them out. As an Idoma informant told Armstrong, ‘when an African hears his name drummed, he must jump up for joy even from his sick bed’ (Armstrong 1954: 360–1). The literary and poetic quality that may be associated with names has been discussed earlier (
Ch. 16
): in the case of drum names these elements are often especially marked because of the very elaboration, convention, and publicity necessarily involved in this particular medium.
6
In some areas, particularly much of southern West Africa, drum literature takes a more highly specialized form. There are drum proverbs, panegyric, and other poetry for drums, horns, or flutes, and sometimes state history is transmitted.
First, proverbs. These are commonly performed on drums in West Africa, sometimes as an accompaniment to dancing. In the Niger-Cross River area of Nigeria the drums review the philosophy and history of the group at a big dance: ‘When a dancer or a mask dances to the intoned proverbs and histories, he may be said to express them with his body. He does so quite consciously. Education in such matters is necessary for membership in the men’s societies.’
4
Among the Akan almost every ordinary proverb can be reproduced on drums, and in drum poetry in general there is frequent use of proverbs to provide encouragement and incitements But there are also extended proverbs specifically intended for performance on the drums. Thus the common Akan proverb ‘If a river is big, does it surpass the sea?’
can be played just as it is, or appear in the special drum form: