Blog Entry 4: The Delight Makers (Sessions 13-16)
Due Date: Tuesday, Mar. 24 (by midnight)
As in all your blog entries, we ask for your critical reflection on the themes discussed in lecture and in your readings. If you have strong personal reactions, critiques, or praise to offer one or more of the texts in question, please do follow your interests. Each week, however, we will be offering a suggested prompt that you may also choose to address.
As always, we are looking for an engaged and critical response to the course materials. Be bold, smart, and opinionated.
Suggested Prompt:
With that in mind, we are interested in hearing your analysis of the social dynamics presented in the story. How, for instance did accusations of witchcraft function within the political life of the village? How were clan affiliations drawn upon in the day-to-day negotiations of village members? To what extent were ritual societies such as the Koshare involved in the building of both religious and political power? And if you are feeling bold... how might we re-read the village described within The Delight Makers as a historically contingent social formation, one that was recognizably post-Chacoan.
The society described in Bandelier’s The Delight Makers is an intricate web of intertwined familial and tribal relationships. Men and women of different tribes marry and bring up their children together, the children in most cases becoming members of the mother’s tribe. This certainly creates much tension within each family as individuals are forced to choose whether to remain loyal to their tribes or to their spouses. These tensions become apparent in the case of Say Koitza when she commits her act of “witchcraft”. Say is terrified to tell anyone what she has done to get rid of her disease because she knows that dealing in witchcraft is a crime that would be frowned upon by her people. However, at the same time Say Koitza yearns to tell her husband, her usual confidante. Say’s son, Okaya also struggles with the idea that his mother is possibly involved in witchcraft. Unsure of how to act around her, Okaya does not know whether he trusts his mother any more.
ReplyDeleteWitchcraft also changes the attitudes of the people in general towards those who are suspected. Throughout the book, Bandelier describes the distant attitudes of the other Puebloans towards Shotaye. They view her suspiciously and strive not to become too involved with her because they do not understand the magic of witchcraft and so naturally fear it. Shotaye herself becomes relatively fearless as a result. When she is out collecting herbs on a nearby hill, she is accosted by an Indian from another village. Shotaye remains quite calm and even leaves the Indian on friendly terms. In a way, her label as a witch has empowered her to have more confidence and courage than other women of the tribe.
The Koshare embody both religious and political power. They are given the job of humoring the villagers during the ritual celebrations and so are incredibly popular with the villagers. Everyone likes to enjoy the light-hearted entertainment of the Koshare. However, popularity also gives political power. One of the Koshare’s rituals includes running into houses and messing up everything inside. The Koshare actually snoop around while they are ravaging Say Koitza’s house in order to find some proof of her witchcraft. In this sense they appear to be policing the village, even though the whole ritual is presented as merely an act of comedy. The Koshare also have quite a lot of religious power. They fast and pray quite seriously for good weather for their crops. This is obvious in the scene where Say watches the Koshare as she buries the owl feathers. However, when the weather is not favorable, the Koshare are very quick to blame the witches. The rest of the villagers value the Koshare slightly higher because they are the ones who plead with the gods. The Koshare also have a hierarchy within their tribe. There is one leader who has more power than the rest of the Koshare. However, it is not clear whether this leader of the Koshare is a leader simply because he is older than the rest. Certainly Say’s father is one of the tribal elders and he also seems to wield quite a lot of power within the society. But even his power is limited, since although against his own wishes the pueblos could force him to kill his daughter if she were to be accused of witchcraft. This sort of system points to the society as being post-Chacoan, without an absolute ruler and rigid hierarchy.
Clan relationships within the village are very important. It is quite clear that the tribes favor their own before those of other tribes. A classic example of this is when Shyuote throws mud at a girl from another tribe and draws her blood. All of the other boys of the girl’s tribe track down Shyuote insisting that he pay for the damage that he has done. Even though the boys had not been directly hurt by Shyuote, he had dishonored a member of their tribe and so they felt it their duty to seek revenge. In the day-to-day practices of the villagers, we also can notice certain comments that allude to constant competition between the tribes. Although similar to the good natured banter of American football fans, these clan tendencies make it very important for an Indian to remain in good standing with the other members of his tribe. Shotaye also knows the importance of this when she looks into the possibility of fleeing the pueblo. She knows that she must go to a tribe where she has good relations with a particular clan. If not she will be treated very badly and perhaps killed.
Bandelier’s story is a complicated and convoluted one with so many important characters (too many of which had similar sounding names) that it was hard to keep everything straight. It was, however, also a very compelling story that managed to divulge tons of factual information that gave the work a grounding and believability. The idea of witches, in a sense (maybe the Platonic form of witches), seems to be readily believable to everyone in the story. However, you get the impression that no one in the story has every actually witnessed a witch accusation, that they don’t actually know what a witch would be like. They are all (Say’s father in particular) aware of the consequences of a witchcraft accusation and (especially Shotaye, understandably) of the nuanced and (to the outsider) seemingly arbitrary actions that could be held up as definitive evidence of witchery. But when it comes down to it, they are all, also aware of the political motivations that could inspire an accusation. Tyope is clearly attempting to use his accusation for revenge against his ex-wife and as a means to take steps toward his ultimate goal of power and prestige (the accusation against Say as a way to break down Topanashka when he executes her since he wants Topanashka’s position). Yet no on would voice such an opinion. It is almost like it is blasphemous to call out an accuser of witchcraft as politically motivated.
ReplyDeleteI agree with the previous post that it is very interesting how the familial and clan dynamics leads to a certain unity of the tribe, a simultaneous certain factionalism of the tribe, but also of the family (which is odd to our Western sensibilities) and an altogether confusing relationship between all members of the tribe (must be hard to be a kid and figure out what is what and who to trust and where to throw your own support, and that’s where some of the subplots, particularly Okoya’s, come from). For it is not only the individual tribe and the scattered family unit that pull people’s hearts and minds in various directions, but their loyalties to certain groups like the Koshare or the Cuitsina. More specifically, I agree with the previous post about the instance where Shyuote throws the mud at the girl and is attacked the next day by the other clan’s boys. It is interesting how they all band together under this banner of clanhood within a tribe that is supposedly one and united. This is a microcosmic foreshadow of the great conflict that comes to a head later in the story with regard to Tyope’s malevolent plan to kick some clans out and, more immediately, to appropriate some of their land. The representatives of the various clans band together in seemingly arbitrary groups based on personal relationships through their extra-clan affiliations or spur of the moment inclinations during the arguments surrounding the issue of land. It seemed like some representatives were very interested in maintaining the interests of their clans, while others were more interested in maintaining the good favors of their betters and others were simply inept (which was funny in the sense that it is an odd characterization of a person in a certain position of prestige).
It was also interesting to see how the Koshare were slowly and (to a certain extent, at least on the part of some powerful individuals) dangerously gaining political power from a position of spirituality. It seems as though the role of the Koshare (and presumably other such groups) was not defined in any concrete terms. Therefore under the right guidance and circumstances, more and more power (in the form of functions and tasks) could be given to the Koshare. While their role was ostensibly one of prayer and foolery, the conniving minds of the leader and Tyope could sway the purposes of the group towards more definitive and political ends. Under the guise of mere ridiculousness the Koshare could perform reconnaissance and in the shadows of their rituals they could formulate plans that seem beyond their scope. It struck me as odd that so many of the characters that we (as readers) see the most of (Shotaye, Say, Okaya, the uncle Hayoue, etc.) not only dislike the Koshare, but hate them; even when someone they love is an dedicated member of the society. It seems to suggest that they have an ingrained distrust for power-mongering and can sense it even on the subtle, imperceptible level that it was being carried out. They fear Tyope and know that he is dangerous. Yet there is no obvious reason why.
This way that the characters are wary of the slowly increasing power of the Koshare seems to indicate the Post-Chacoan nature of the story. No one should be conniving for power positions the way Tyope and the head of the Koshare are, even if they attempt to keep their efforts under the radar. They are striving for power when they should be actively trying to avoid it and that is why so many characters hate them. The only reason the vain tribal chief, Hoshkanyi, is acceptable in his high seat that he decidedly coveted is the fact that he is inept and not respected. And, in fact, he didn’t even seem to really want the power so much as the prestige, which poses little danger to the tribe.
“It may be said of the red man that he keeps his secrets in the same manner that he lives- namely, in groups or clusters. The reason is that with him individualism, or the mental and moral independence of the individual, has not attained the high degree of development which prevails among white races.” (pg. 13) This communal ownership of knowledge would make sense in the post-Chacoan world; the “collapse” of the elitism would lead to group claims over information. However as we already established with the example of the Koshares, elites do exist in the world of the The Delight Makers, even if they are not granted the privileges which we would assign to our elites. These restraints might be deliberate checks to prevent the rampant hierarchy of the past. I think that Bandelier’s statement about communal secrets and lack of individualism is contrary to the image he depicts of social relations in this tribe. What I found striking about the Puebloan world that is portrayed in this book is the heavy individual privacy which dominates every single relationship: brother/brother, mother/son, husband/wife, father/daughter, friend/friend… the one situation where the barrier of the individual is broken is within the courtship of Okoya and Mitsha, but even this is expected to become less open once they marry. This is the exact opposite of what Bandelier says is the lack of “mental or moral independence of the individual”; the highly suspicious attitude that pervades into every single relationship in the story creates people who seem very isolated, and unable to depend on anyone else. New ties and loyalties are constantly being formed, as the existing ones are put under suspicion and deemed dangerous. Underneath these turnover of allegiances stands a very firm instance of the independent individual, which Bandelier says is an underdeveloped notion to the “red man”.
ReplyDeleteAnother factor that reinforces individualism is the society’s emphasis on duty, and the stigma which is attached to acting in a realm beyond your own duty, a very post-Chacoan concern. Hayoue explains to Okoya that the Koshare “shall do their duty and no more. It is not their duty to make people believe that they are wiser than the chayani…if the Delight makers…and Tyope are not restrained very soon, there will be sorrow in the tribe.” (pg 167). Clearly this is voicing a post-Chacoan fear of despotism, but I also think it represents an individual stoicism of the time, very different from the interdependent picture that is proposed by Bandelier. Without the definition of an individual’s boundaries, they could be extended without notice. This social condition was historically contingent as being a reaction to Chaco; the strive towards a more egalitarian system relied not on the destruction of individualism and personal independence, but on the contrary, on very defined individual roles and sense of individual duty.
~aida sadr
I too, would like to comment on the friction between familial and tribal/clan relations illustrated by Bandelier in “The Delight Makers.” The scene that really stuck out to me was the part of the story where Koitza’s father confronts her after dinner concerning her problems with the Koshare. After speaking of the significance of them, he warns her against falling out of favor with the Koshare because of the fact that he must respect his tribal orders, regardless of who they affect, including his own family. She is suspected of “witch-craft” and this creates a painful situation for Topanashka. It can be gathered that he still cares about her, hence his warning, but he is powerless to protect her from tribal orders, regardless of his high rank. From this we are left with the idea that in terms of rule, the tribe holds far more sway. Another important conclusion I drew from this passage was that while the “disconnect” between father/husband and the rest of the nuclear family that Bandelier describes is evident- Topanashka is not living in the same unit as Say Koitza and her sons- there is still definitely more of a connection between them than Bandelier had previously let on. He created an image earlier in the text of a father that is not around for his children, the mother played the crucial role in child-raising. The interaction involving Topanashka and Say Koitza shows there is more to it though. He is deeply troubled at the idea of his child coming into harms way, something I previously would not have expected as I pictured the men all living in the common younger male housing, however I could be mistaken and that place was designated for young adult males only.
ReplyDeleteAnother social dynamic that stuck out to me was the HUGE difference between the roles expected of men and women. Bandelier goes to great lengths to make clear the “place” of both men and women, as well as what they “owned.” Perhaps most interesting was the idea that since the women cultivated the house, they owned it and conversely since the men cultivated the fields and hunted, they owned the area where the food was gathered from. Each person having control/ownership over the area which they work on and improving is something very different from today’s commercial principles. For example, the man harvesting coal from the mine certainly has no sovereignty over the land he is harvesting from. Most likely, a very wealthy man that has never set foot in a coal mine is the owner of the mine. He is also the owner of all the output from that area. This contrasts completely with the system Bandelier describes to us. It seems that the Pueblo people valued each persons role individually, especially when he points out that each man has a rough area that is “his” as long as he continues to improve it. As far as men vs women goes, this creates a completely complementary system. Anything brought into the home is woman’s property the moment it enters. The man that has worked to cultivate it loses rights to it once it has entered the woman’s domain. In our conventional family today don’t we all share the house, the food, the money brought in by the breadwinner and work as one cohesive unit? The pueblo man vs. woman dynamic is in sharp contrast with the social system prevalent today that we are used to, but not as different as we may be inclined to think. I think Bandelier is pointing out these things because they are on the surface an example of “alterity.” However, this may be spun this way simply because we are expected to think them a wholly different society and people than ourselves. If we take a cookie cutter, typical, old-fashioned family model of the United States (I know many many women work now and there are stay at home dads, etc but for the sake of my argument…), don’t we see the man bringing in the money, his cultivated good from the “field” and then the woman transforming that money brought in almost as she pleases? She turns the money into supplies, groceries and other house-products essential to the upkeep of the house. Once the money enters the household unit, the mother-figure traditionally becomes “owner” of the goods/money. She turns it into the meals and upkeep of the house. There is a marked difference though nowadays as the wife doesn’t physically build the house, or have anything to do with the physical creation of the house at all for that matter, along with a host of MANY differences.. But, on the very base level, I could see a strong argument being made that the Pueblo people described in The Delight Makers have a lot of the same customs expected of each gender as we do today. The man in my extremely stereotypical model takes no responsibility for the production of meals once he does his assigned task of bringing the raw materials into the home.
Another aspect I wanted to quickly discuss was the idea of the woman being somewhat disconnected from the history/religion of the Koshare. I am not sure if all women are as uninformed but a passage that iterates what I am saying well is this one, “The woman listened with childlike eagerness. Her parted lips and
sparkling eyes testified that everything was new to her.
"Father," she interrupted, "I knew nothing of this. You are very wise.
But why are women never told such things?"
"Don't cut off my speech," he said. "Because women are so forward, that
is why many things are concealed from them."”
There are so many dynamics coming into play just in this short excerpt. Why does there exist a common belief that women are too forward? And why does this lead to the concealing of the religion to them? Shouldn’t the history and function of the Koshare, something Bandelier shows as a religious leader with an extremely meaningful function, be taught to and well-understood by all members? Why is this the first time the daughter of an important tribal member is being told all of the intricacies of the Koshare? The fact that the Koshare himself is a somewhat feared or intimidating member (by some) of society is a completely different discussion for another time.. This hero is relatively mysterious to many members of a society that SHOULD revere him. Certainly an interesting yet complicated dynamic.
-Brendan Martin
"The Delight Makers" is interesting beyond just its story in that it occupies a type of fiction that, while perhaps known today, truly was innovative at the time of publication. Keeping this in mind, it is really extraordinary what Bandelier was able to do.
ReplyDeleteThe accusations of witchcraft are always intriguing, regardless of the culture in which the accusations occur. The reasons, however, always seem to be similar. The world of the Pueblos, according to Bandelier at least, seems to revolve around the idea of secret knowledge. Everything is explained as having a cause, though as the cause's true nature becomes more unclear, the amount of people allowed to know it shrinks. This knowledge breeds legitimacy and so, even if knowledge 'ownership' begins as happenstance, it quickly comes under the control of the group with it. Consequently, while some cultures see the spreading of knowledge as the top priority of a successful civilization, others view it as a threat to their dominating elite. As a result, witchcraft, in that it offers an alternative to the established knowledge and can be practiced by anyone (not to mention it's as equally hidden as the established) offers the greatest threat to the ruling parties and is why it is crushed where seen.
On a more practical level, it can be used against those who just happen to bother the establishment. There is little doubt in my mind that even if Shotaye had not practiced any witchcraft, Tyope would still have wanted to accuse her of it. As a powerful member of society, his word has much more weight than that of any common person. While it's true that he would need evidence of some sort, the brilliant thing about witchcraft is that anything out of the ordinary can be construed as evil magic.
On another level, witchcraft accusations disproportionately affect women, which makes it likely that many of the denunciations come against any woman who threatens the superiority of men as leaders. This is even more dangerous as it can unite different factions within the order (after all, they're all men) against the female accused. It is interesting to think about whether Tyope would have started any of this had Shotaye not left him. On the other hand, what other option did she have? The problems of unequal knowledge distribution become apparent for justice.
I've been thinking about the Koshare quite a bit because of just how brilliantly they function. So often ritual groups drown in their own self-importance that one cannot take them seriously and they quickly die out. Others remain so secret that people just forget about them, which makes exercising control next to impossible. The Koshare, on the other hand, are able to exercise their power and intimidation through acting ridiculous. There can be a threatening mood to the jokes they make which can easily be seen but on a more abstract level, the use of levity hints but never approaches the potential of Koshare power. Once the full power of an organization is let loose, no matter how powerful, it shows a limit to what can be done. The Koshare never approach this in public and any show of power that is public can be attributed to their clowning and so not really represent their own abilities. Such strategy inevitably allows a strong, albeit fearful, society to spring up around it.
Another interesting aspect of the Koshare is their serious rituals, like fasting for the rains, etc. Such disparate obligations of levity and somberness may appear odd but in reality it shows a whole spectrum of character which approaches super human feat. Most people fit into one type of category but the range that the Koshare fill make them appear to be everyone and, hence, superior. It's hard to fight against this. Their whisperings and rumor spreading add to their mystique as it seems as though they can float in and out of people's consciousnesses and say what they will. No wonder those who find themselves ill thought of by the Koshare hide as best they can, but never deny their feelings outright.
I am going to draw upon a quote used by an earlier blog post as it seems to sum up a lot of the social dynamics within Bandelier’s The Delight Makers: “It may be said of the red man that he keeps his secrets in the same manner that he lives- namely, in groups or clusters. The reason is that with him individualism, or the mental and moral independence of the individual, has not attained the high degree of development which prevails among white races” (13). The people in Bandelier’s work seem to have a set of loyalties that seemed, to me, to exist within them at all times, in more or less equal intensities. For example, the characters within the story (with some exceptions) have a sort of nationalism for the tribe, as well as a nationalism for the clan to which they belong, and finally a nationalism for their family. This, as Bandelier points out, stops at they level of the individual; their society seems designed to not allow for selfish thought, where others are not taken into consideration at least at some level of their nationalisms. That said, there does exist some form of individual thought, as shown by Hayoue and others who do not respect or like the Koshare; yet even this does not harm the group because these individuals are not openly assaulting or protesting the Koshare and more or less keep their thoughts to themselves, so as to not spread dissent. It simply shows that there is some freedom of thought. Thus, witchcraft functions as a sort of selfishness that is condemned by these groups. Not only is witchcraft an idea involving selfish thought that is secretly kept by the individual from the larger group, it is one that is intended to harm others in the group (although that is not how it is employed in Say Koitza’s case), which adds upon the harm perceived to be caused by the individual secret. Accusations of witchcraft function to create a hierarchy of acceptable levels of loyalties within the group. A member of this society can be loyal to the tribe, the clan, and/or the family, but he cannot overstep his bounds and dabble in the self-thought of witchcraft.
ReplyDeleteClan affiliations in this story seem to be pretty strong ties that can be overlooked (in lieu of the tribe) when necessary. This is evident in the ingrained social idea that it is frowned upon to disrespect other clans, as shown when Shyote throws mud at a girl from another clan, as well as the rebuke given to the boys seeking revenge on the roofs of houses of clans they do not belong to. So there is a balance between the respect and unity of the different clans and the loyalty and separateness (and sort of autonomy) of each individual clan. Each member lives in a section of the pueblo that belongs solely to the members of their clan, yet at the same time, that still belongs to the tribe’s pueblo as a whole. Thus, there are strong relations between clan members, but they extend beyond the clan when necessary, when members of the different clans need to work together, whether it be in farming or other necessary activities. That said, each clan seems to have their own set of responsibilities within the tribe; the corn, water, and eagle clans all have different jobs and responsibilities that require them to cherish the nationalism within their clan, while also forcing them to work together with the other clans within the day-to-day to survive, as no one clan can produce their own subsistence solely by themselves. In a sense, the division of labor, so to speak, creates the necessity of unity among the different clans.
To me, the Koshare seem to create a sort of hidden elitism, albeit a form of elitism in which their life is no easier or better than the rest in terms of subsistence. Yet their life is arguably better in the sense that they have unlimited power, at least within ritual ceremonies; during rituals, Koshare literally have no rules to abide by, allowing them to do whatever they want; they can throw away social restrictions that apply to everyone else, which seems dangerous in a way that could potentially promote power-mongering and elitism within a tribe otherwise free of such temptation. On top of this hidden elitism, all members of Koshare garner respect from most, if not all, members of the tribe, but it seems that within this story this never amounts to much. Their power is somehow kept in check by the idea that they receive no more food than anyone else, and they still have to do as much work as (in terms of farming and such) than other members of the society while also doing “work” within the Koshare, discussing the state of the tribe, along with other duties. So it seems that the Koshare had built this immense level of religious and political power, in which they have the power to do whatever they want at times, yet it is a power that is constantly kept in check by non-ritual, “normal” life so to speak. That said, it still seems as if they have some sort of sway over the thinking of the members of society, yet it is not clear or explicit within the story how this is exhibited. In short, as touched on above, the Koshare have created power for themselves, yet it does not seem as if it is a power they could run away with and control the society with; rather it is one that is easily checked either by habituation by past members to promote the common good, or some sort of hidden knowledge that every member has the power to control the Koshare, if they get out of hand, by a sheer number game.
In exploring the social dynamics presented in Bandelier’s novel, I find it useful to exploit as a vehicle the contradictions that surface between the assertions of the narrator and the evidence of the story itself. I shall examine two realms in which this became apparent to me upon reading the text: standard response to the ritual antics of the Koshare, and the nature of secrecy.
ReplyDeleteThe narration describes Indians as childlike, taking as proof the great amusement the Queres find in watching the spectacle of the Koshare clowns. As the narrator sees it, they laugh heartily in approval at the ridiculous performance of the disgusting specimens. In contrast to this assessment, we are able to observe a greater psycho-political power game at play. The Koshare are far more than coarse clowns; they represented the carnival, transgression, transformation. Even without analyzing their other functions and practices outside the midsummer dance, we see further in their antics and in the people’s response hints of greater power. The people respond by laughing, indeed, but we get the impression that their laughter is more than simply an approbation of buffoonery; in one sense it is a group catharsis—amidst the severity of the rest of the ritual and the labor of daily life the Koshare permit a shared experience of emotional release—and in another it is a deliberately exaggerated show of approval motivated by fear of being made the Koshare’s target (hence the implication of greater power involved, although on the surface this may be little more than the desire to avoid being mocked). Our example here begs the question, whether the ability of the Koshare to hide their cultural power is tyranny at its cleverest, or rather evidence of a deep humility. Based on the novel I incline toward a view that both are partially true: the suppression of conspicuous displays of power is perhaps occasioned by requisite humility, and yet it provides an environment in which much tyrannical scheming, like that between Tyope and the Naua, becomes possible.
The narrator expresses at the start of the text the view that Indians keep secrets in groups due to the lack of moral and mental development of the individual. His story, however, contains both characters who are manifestly individualistic and a social environment in which this seems sure to be the norm. The environment is one in which people are connected by much more than simply clan allegiance. They are united by marriage, though husband and wife be of different clans; ritual societies like the Koshare, in which membership is irrespective of clan boundaries; ceremonies like the midsummer dance, or the mourning which followed the Dinne attack; language; custom generally; etc. These connections spur tribal loyalty that transcends clan loyalty except under extraordinary circumstances. But does this lead to more or less trust? Everyone is connected and yet no favor is exclusive—there is no truly certain means of determining how another prioritizes their various loyalties. Add to this the pervading Big-Brother-is-watching atmosphere evidenced in the book, and individualism seems guaranteed. The existence of characters like Shotaye and Tyope, though contrary to the narrator’s assessment of Indian potential, is hardly surprising.
Why, we must wonder, does Bandelier’s tale portray cultural elements that contradict the very assertions of the narrator? Perhaps because he sought so meticulously to portray Pueblo society based on observation and stories gleaned from actual Pueblo people, his story took on a life of its own which transcended his own analysis performed and articulated in the affirmations of the narrator.
Another sort of contradiction that becomes apparent is related to the situation of Tyuonyi as post-Chaco: many elements of culture and plot give evidence to this post-Chacoan setting, and yet there is no explicit reference to the Chacoan past—the Queres people lack any but an extremely symbolic religious history. Cultural elements that locate our story in a post-Chaco period include prevalent warfare, not simply with the Navajo (whose arrival on the scene is itself post-Chaco) but also between the related Queres and Tehua; the hunting of witches, a sign of the disapprobation of those attempting to gain undue power; the lack of an omnipotent elite (to take the Koshare as an example, while they have a great deal of sociological power, members are not economically better off, nor do they possess outright political power); and the roughly identical nature of individual homes. Within the plot we also note the enforced return of the power-hungry Tyope to the ranks of the common people, and the fact that the shaman perceives Hayoue’s refusal of the maseua position as somehow sublime and divine.
I offer two possible explanations for the lack of conscious historical context among the Queres, besides of course an actual lack. Early in the novel Topanashka explains the origin of the Koshare to his daughter Say Koitza. (One thing to note regarding Topanahska’s speech is that it may be less an authentic rendition of the ignorant condition of women in the society, and more simply a narrative device to convey the Koshare origin story through a character rather than the judgmental narrator). From this speech we gather both the existence of a symbolic understanding of the Koshare’s history, and the fact that even this was only known to a few (seemingly only men). The Chacoan history may thus be such privileged knowledge that none of the characters we really got to know were actually familiar with it, or perhaps even that Bandelier was never made aware of it. Or it may have been fully appreciated, but simply concealed in symbolic stories (i.e. the third, dark world from which the Koshare led the people may have been Chaco itself).
--Marina Cassio
In “The Delight Makers” accusations of witchcraft are not specifically used to control political and religious power. Bandelier portrays the members of the Keresan (Queres) tribe as being highly devout in their religious practices and very superstitious. The witch accusations seem to stem from genuine fear and superstition rather than political power games. Although he makes some of his characters more superstitious than others, his overall image of the Native American is that of a religious group of people. In the beginning of “The Delight Makers,” Say Koitza is the center of attention in the plot, and she is definitely portrayed as very superstitious. Her friend, the medicine woman Shotaye, seems more cunning and less naïve. But both women fully believe in the dark magic they evoke from the owl feathers. Bandelier describes the two women and their escapades with the owl feathers and black corn, saying that they convince themselves that the black corn talks to them just because they are so deeply embroiled in their superstitions. Throughout the novel Bandelier describes the daily rituals of the people of the Rito. He explains the layout of the village as embodying the religion of the villagers, “ such accumulations of rocks, little stone-heaps, are plentiful around Indian villages; and they represent votive offerings” (Bandelier 100). He describes the way in which prayers are said before eating and corn meal is sprinkled. He says Native Americans deduce their fortunes through the happenings of natural events. He says, “This implicit, slavish obedience to signs and tokens of a natural order to which a supernatural origin is assigned, is the Indian’s religion. The life of the Indian is therefore merely a succession of religious acts called forth by utterances of what he supposes to be higher powers surrounding him, and accompanying him on every step from the cradle to the grave” (Bandelier 208). Bandelier goes on to describe the way in which Say interprets the rainbow she sees as a good omen for the marriage of Okoya and Mitsha. He also spends the whole first part of the novel focusing on how Say abides by superstitious beliefs in order to cure her sickness, and by doing so precipitates the events of the novel. He casts the superstition and the naiveté of Say in a bad light, and by association broadly portrays all Native Americans as naïve and superstitious people, when, in reality, many people from all societies allow their superstitions and religions to govern their lives. The devout behavior of the characters in the novel is not unusual at all.
ReplyDeleteHowever, Bandelier does not present only one stereotypical view of the “noble savage” who allows religions to rule his lives. He does present some characters in this manner, such as his description of Okoya, but he also introduces characters who embody the opposite stereotype of the “savage savage,” such as the treacherous Tyope. Although at times Bandelier seems to be no different an ethnographer than many other 19th and early 20th century anthropologists who impose preconceived notions on their subjects, he does, at times, balances out his stereotypical, biased characters with less predictable characters.
Despite the use of many premeditated images of Native Americans, Bandelier does manage to humanize the people he studies, probably to a much greater extent than most other anthropologists of his time, and perhaps even today. He manages to use his fictional story to draw the reader into a world that is based off his archaeological and ethnographic studies in the field, and so in that sense, “The Delight Makers” is no more fiction than any other interpretation of an archaeological site. As one reads deeper into the archaeological literature, one realizes how little information can be validated as truly factual from the evidence that exists from many sites. Especially societies without written traditions present problems to archaeologists since they force archaeologists to create even more of a narrative to explain the human interactions in their sites, thus making more room for false accounts.
In many ways reading Bandelier’s novel for an anthropology class is a very uncomfortable situation. It is far from the typical readings one expects in an average anthropology class, and makes students uncomfortable because they are not sure what to make of the blatant use of fiction to explain a factual archaeological site. However, the use of a novel to introduce the reader to an archaeological site is actually not very different from the ways in which sites are usually introduced in supposedly factual literature, such as textbooks. While archaeological evidence can be presented in a “scientific” manner, there is no way to interpret that scientific evidence in a completely factual way. In order to have an understanding of how artifacts were used or why certain buildings were erected or abandoned, archaeologists use the hard factual material they have at hand in order to create a plausible story about the material objects they have as evidence for their stories. The only difference between Bandelier’s novel and a contemporary scholarly journal article is that Bandelier is up front with his readers about his use of fiction to interpret his evidence.
Bandelier’s presentation of the Koshare society as a major force in Keresan society might be incorrect, however, this interpretation, based off his ethnographic studies, could also be correct. There is no way of knowing exactly how people in ancient societies interacted, since the material evidence left behind only tell scholars so much. Bandelier definitely sees the Koshare as a major political and religious force in the village, as the behavior of the characters demonstrates from the very first pages of the novel. The fear and loathing of the Koshare, exhibited by Say and Shotaye, shows the height to which the Koshare are elevated in the village society, especially since at the “ayash tyucotz” ceremony the Koshare are showcased and have free reign of the village.
Overall, clan affiliations and operations in Bandelier’s novel are ruled by the religious practices of the clan, as dictated by the Koshare. So Bandelier’s Koshare rule over the political and religious
-Hannah Kligman
The concept of witchcraft has long been used as a scapegoat, a means of a society for explaining unfortunate circumstances by blaming it on supernatural forces and those who evoke such forces. This practice manifests itself in Pueblo society when the Koshare blame witches for bad weather. Witchcraft is also used to control conflicts in communities, to create a distraction from political intrigue, or to rally allegiance within a community by creating a common enemy. Much of the action that takes place in The Delight Makers could be interpreted as following under one of those motivations to manipulate by drawing on fear. However, what is quite obvious but often overlooked in the novel is the fact that witchcraft is an accusation primarily linked to women. Women most often are demonized to take the blame for natural events outside of human control. How does the concept of witchcraft in this social context reflect the political and social position of this gender?
ReplyDeleteWitchcraft is more commonly associated with women in practically every culture. There is little contest to the idea that the label of witch is mainly applied to women. In fact, when a person hears the term witch, he or she is most likely going to picture a woman. What does it mean for gender relations if a culture incorporates the idea of witchcraft into their ideology? Since witchcraft is use of dark magical powers and viewed as diabolical, believing in witchcraft can highlight an underlying belief that women are susceptible to being malevolent in character.
Women are often represented in two ways, not unlike the two stereotypical depictions of Native Americans first promoted in the beginning of colonization process. Like the Indians who would viewed as either noble savages or savage savages, women are portrayed as either innocent and naïve or wicked and deceitful. These two contrary ideas of women exist in almost every society. In the Christian Bible, for example, the image of Mary as the immaculate mother of God is contrasted with Eve, the women responsible for the fall of man. In the very beginning of this novel, we are shown these two “types” of women. Bandelier writes, “The antagonists of Okoya and Shyuote were buxom lasses, rather short, thick-waisted, full-chested, with flat faces, prominent cheek bones, and bright eyes” (22). These girls were the ones who first mocked and jeered Okoya for his lack of success at hunting before attacking him with mud. One of the girls, older and taller than Shyuote, preceded to pull him to the ground and sat on him, forcing his face in the mud. These two girls attacked unprovoked and were merciless. They are then directly contrasted with Mitsha who was not only much more beautiful and graceful but also kinder. She chose to refrain from the fray. While the two divergent images are not overtly apparent, there is a sense that the two wicked girls are meant to be foils to the lovely Mitsha.
While this Pueblo society may too subscribe to the believe in these two kinds of women figures, Pueblo women do have many more rights then women were allowed in other societies at that time. Both men and women have certain assigned roles in society. These roles determined what they owned as well as what they spent the majority of their time doing. The house not only was the responsibility of the women, which is not unusual, but it also was owned by the women. Bandelier writes, “Among the Pueblos the house was in charge of the women exclusively, everything within the walls of the house, the men’s clothing and weapons excepted, belonging to the housekeeper” (26-27). The crops and the field belonged to the men until, of course, the crops were brought into the home. The fact that women could calm proprietor rights to their homes is significant. Many cultures denied women such privileges for a very long time. However, this system of ownership may not be the result of respect for women. Rather it may be partly due to the system of inheritance. The women owning the houses makes sense when you recall that descent follows the female line. This custom, the descent coming from the women’s line, moreover, reflects an underlying mistrust of women that has become deeply embedded in Pueblo cultural practices.
Bandelier informs that reader that clans claimed descent in the female line because, “Decent from the mother being always plain” (14). This statement is compelling because it implies that there is reason to doubt the integrity of a woman who may claim a man to be the father of her child. This system of descent must have develop for a reason based on experience or beliefs, and the belief that is most evident in this arrangement is that women cannot always be trusted. This brings in another issue because one reason a women might lie about the paternity of her child is social advancement. It is interesting in light of the fact that witchcraft can also be used as a political tool to keep women in their places. Most likely this system of inheritance did not develop to prevent women from getting power, but it does appear to exist to protect men and society from the inherent deviousness of women.
Finally, women in Pueblo society are limited in the kinds and amount of knowledge they are allowed to receive. This is made clear when Say’s father first warns her that the Koshare believe she has done witchcraft. He explains to her the importance of the Koshare.
“’Father,’ she interrupted, ‘I knew nothing of this. You are very wise. But why are women never told such things?’
‘Don’t cut off my speech,’ he said. ‘Because women are so forward, that is why many things are concealed from them.’”
The Koshare have a very important role in society, and the fact that women are not made aware of their history and the history of part of their tribe’s religious beliefs is very shocking. The reason the father gives for not including women in the history of their people is that women are too forward. I find this very interesting. I expected him to say that women are too suggestible, maybe, or that women are too simple. I was really surprised by the use of the word forward. Perhaps this belief, that women are too forward, stems from the same idea that women are untrustworthy and deceitful that has lead to the descent customs.
It appears that the idea of the cunning women is very prevalent in Pueblo society. Perhaps this is because women have property rights and men feel they must protect themselves politically and socially. Perhaps it all boils down to issues of sexism. Perhaps the idea of witchcraft is just one tool in the arsenal of an unconscious but real attempt to keep women from gaining too much power. There are many different possible explanations to the views of men and women and the concept of witchcraft in this society, but the fact of the matter is that the belief in witchcraft is perpetuated and at the same time perpetuates this idea that women have a propensity toward treachery.
In this blog entry, I’d like to talk about something that has troubled me for some time in our approach to the Pueblo Societies. At first I was troubled by the fact that we continuously asked ourselves questions such as “why this architectural complexity”, “was there really a social hierarchy.” I felt that these questions inherently assumed that these societies must have functioned the way we do or previously did. We assumed they must have had reasons for building the structures they built, or for drinking cacao. And then I realized that it is not the questioning and assumptions that actually bother me but rather the inherent paradox within our reasoning in relation to these ancient societies.
ReplyDeleteOn one hand, most archeology until today has assumed a ladder view from “simple” to “complex” societies. Such theories implicitly claim that these first simple societies like the bands or tribes have no history. We assume that simple societies are the “seed” or starting point that ultimately lead, through a linear movement of hierarchically placed stages, to the modern and complex European society. There is nothing before this “seed”, nothing more “simple” or primal, and therefore no history to them.
But on the other hand, the ultimate goal of anthropology is to uncover a history to ancient societies. We dig up bones, relics, and old stones from which we come up with stories that would explain how these societies functioned, why they functioned the way they did, and finally, the history that led to their ways. With every new discovery, we come up with new plausible histories – and yet, we still manage to see them as “simpler” and therefore with less history than us.
This is when the true problem that bothers me arises. We are now aware that the ladder theory is amoral because it assumes that European societies are above and superior to all others. In order to combat these a priories, we therefore come up with lavish and complicated explanations that are actually only based on assumption. We wonder if the post-chacoean period was guided by a “counter cultural movement” meant to rebel against authority or even if the bodily remains that point towards cannibalism prove that there must have been great social unrest and fear of witchcraft or dictators. I feel that we are now adding complexity – for which we have no empirical proof – just to hide our guilt at having made previous assumptions about simplicity and our superiority.
In Although they have petty captains, they obey them badly: the dialects of prehispanic western pueblo social organization Randall H. McGuire and Dean J. Saitta illustrate a reflection of this problem: “We suggest that the issue of late Prehispanic
pueblo social organization remains unresolved because archaeologists have been asking the wrong question. Most have framed the question of late Prehispanic social organization in the Southwest in dichotomous either-or terms: i.e., was a given organizational entity simple or complex, egalitarian or stratified, acephalous or authoritarian?” I feel that in response to the Chacoan mystery, we have been asking the wrong questions, using the wrong approach. On one hand we assume that because they are “old” they must have been primitive and therefore “simpler” than us modern folk. From this assumption we are in complete awe in front of four story buildings and proof of wood, corn, and such imports and economic organization. Then arises a sense of guilt when we realize that we most likely have assumed that these people were simpler than us when they most likely were not. And finally, this guilt is expressed in overly complex questioning about why and how they did what we think they did. For example, why do we have so much trouble imagining that they would build aesthetically pleasing door-frames for the simple reason that they felt like it when we’ve built huge and basically useless statues in the ocean –i.e. the statue of liberty?
I feel that most of the texts I’ve read, whether they are implicitly ladder based or reflect the Kroeber tree and even the ones that claim to be completely objective (with no claims of complex versus simple societies or those with no claims of linear movement towards a “natural” culmination) arise from an unconscious sense of the “modern man’s” superiority. On one hand we blatantly assume these past societies had no history, and on the other we invent overly complex theories to hide our guilt at feeling above. No matter what approach we take, the simple fact that we are imagining histories to societies we will never actually know puts us somehow above – we are the judge, they are the judged.
What I found to be most impressive about Bandelier’s novel was his ability to create a complex relationship between father and son(s). The novel definitely did not read like the work of a 19th century Swiss Archeologist. The recreation had a much smoother flow than I had anticipated. The initial relationship between Okoya and his father, Zashue Tihua was very intriguing since the father did not push his first born to assume his role and join the ranks of the Koshare. It is super-ironic that Okoya hates the Koshare at the start of the novel. This complexity was not “necessary” to tell a prehistoric Pueblo tale, but it absolutely enriched the story. Another well done relationship was that of the war chief, Topanashka Tihua and his daughter, Say Kotzia. Topanashka was one of the first to hear of Say Kotzia’s guilt and there interactions, especially during the Koshare’s dance performance were well done. This was especially true when he warned his guilty daughter to remove the evidence. Also the descriptions of the Estufa, and their intricate décor was something I had never learned of. I had also never heard the term Estufa used dealing with a ritual space, I am assuming it is similar to the kiva.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I think the Novel does a great job with creating a fluid, entertaining and authernic Pueblo tale, there were moments of ethnocentricity that stuck out at me. On page 13 for example, Bandelier writes that the “Indian is not ideal being… he fails to understand” (Bandelier, 13). I found language like this to be unnecessary. Also, painting the Navajo as a savage nation of Indians seemed inappropriate. Bandelier also wrote, “How much of a child the Indian still is” (Bandelier 135). Besides this few hiccups, however, I feel Bandelier novel is a great read and very affective in telling an accurate tale based on a foundation of fieldwork.
Sean Quinn
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ReplyDelete“Witchcraft” and those who practice it are both feared and powerful in the novel. No one wished to be on a possible witch’s bad side, and all seemed to recognize serious consequences to both being the accused and the accuser. Women viewed as witches possess much power over non-witches by the fact that those who do not practice seek assistance from witches. This fear mixed with reverence is also exhibited by the witches towards the Koshare. A somewhat strict social conduct code is indicated by clan relations. Furthermore, specific attributes and characteristics about personalities and capabilities are given to each clan, producing stereotypes that the characters of the novel like to uphold. The Koshare are what happens when one doesn’t follow the rules. They are chaotic and disorderly much of the time and threaten what is “normal”. They are both gods and a police force -religious and secular. Much of life in the pueblos is based around and very concerned with the Koshare. The Koshare maintain the order simply by the threat and fear of destruction that lingers about them.
ReplyDeleteD. Sullens
Bandelier's text is amazing. It is engaging and shows the complexity of Puebloan society. The reader is provided with information regarding: decision making, the courting process, and the means of discipline of the Pueblo. Yet still an almost condescending, and definitely problematic, anthropological lens makes itself evident at various parts during this piece.
ReplyDeleteHe often uses the behavior of the villagers to explain Indian behavior in general. This homogenization of Native identity ignores the great heterogeneity amongst native groups. Bandelier also describes the "primitive" behaviors of Indians at various points. At one point Bandelier describes the Indian as "a child...[who] rarely make[s] atonement unless compelled" (303). The question then may be asked: What is to compel the Indian to atone? And, naturally, the Euroamerican response would be: "us." Further compounding this undermining of Indian humanity by saying that the Indian "has but a very dim notion about human conscience, if he thinks of it at all" (305). This further encourages Euroamerican invasion into Indian land and affairs.
Bandelier puts forth a valiant effort towards constructing a realistic narrative of life in various Puebloan villages that does the villagers of the past more just. But his inability to see the Pueblo, or the Indian, as anything other than primitive puts a significant blight on his work.
-D. Omavi Harshaw
Adolf Bandelier claims to have written The Delight Makers as a story “clothing sober facts in the garb of romance… to make the ‘Truth about the Pueblo Indains’ more accessible and perhaps more acceptable to the public in general” (xxi). Bandelier states that, along with geographical and archaeological facts, he wishes to convey ethnological information as well. Bandelier’s objective success in his aims is extremely debatable. Yes, Bandelier did a fine job of describing the physical location and situation of the Queres, a particular Pueblo tribe, but his story may have ultimately been counter-productive to his goal of relating an objectively realistic ethnological account of the lives of the Pueblo Indians.
ReplyDeleteAdolf Bandelier’s descriptions of the relationships between the tribes are probably based on his own observations and the information he gathered from others during the time in which he lived among the Pueblo communities for several years. It is understandable that while the Queres were constantly at odds with the nomadic Navajo they maintained a tense yet neutral position with the Tehua, another Pueblo tribe. Bandelier conveyed the fact that although the Queres and the Tehua may have been on shaky ground with respect to one another there was still kinship between the individuals belonging to the same clans, familial groups, in both tribes. When the character Shotaye runs away to the Tehua from the Queres she is eventually adopted by the Water Clan of the Tehua because she had been of the Water Clan while still with the Queres. And yet, while at war, Queres and Tehua attack and kill each other without any scruples and do not care whether or not the man they slay is from the same clan as himself. In addition, when the Queres fought against the Navajo, they ended up taking in one of the captured foes as their own. Bandelier does an impressive job in exploring these complicated and seemingly contradictory relationships. The author anthropologist is able to frame these relationships in such a way in the narrative that they become understandable and “accessible.”
However, the major way in which Bandelier seems to fail in explaining the ways of the Pueblo Indians to the general public and making the Native Americans seem more acceptable comes about in his depiction of the Koshare.
What struck me most about Adolf Bandelier’s work was his outright vilification of the Koshare. This group of people serves an important role in the Pueblo communities and yet Bandelier largely treats them as a corrupt and self-preserving sect of society. Bandelier does not go so far as to criticize the spiritual purpose and occupation of the Koshare, but he does insult those who chose or were promised to this work. First of all, Tyope, a prominent member of the Koshare, is the main villain in Bandelier’s story. Tyope uses his position as a Koshare as a means to acquire greater power. He plots with the Navajo, the blatant enemy of his people the Queres, in order to acquire the title of war chief. Tyope also accuses others of crimes against the tribe in order to divert attention from his own subversive actions and out of his own personal ill will. He brings allegations of witchcraft against his former wife and her friend, Say Koitza, because he has been personally battling Shotaye, his former wife, since their split. In turn, Say Koitza’s husband, Zashue, allows for the accusation against his wife to stand and even assists in searching her house for evidence of witchcraft. Bandelier tells us that Zashue did not do this out of hatred but because he was weak and under the influence of the Tyope and the other bad men in the Koshare. The head of the Koshare society itself, the Koshare Naua, is also portrayed by Bandelier as an evil man who wishes only to advance himself and wield his current power as leader of the sacred society for his own benefit. It is because of the power hungry and spiteful Tyope and Koshare Naua that the tribe eventually falls apart. But even if the tribe had continued in its present state the future of the Koshare was not looking bright either. Zashue promised his youngest son, Shyuote, to the Koshare. Bandelier goes out of his way to describe the laziness and selfishness of the boy who happened to be his father’s favorite over his much worthier brother Okoya. It seems that no one directly associated with the Koshare were benevolent or kind.
Bandelier could not have been ignorant of the effect his account of the Koshare would have on his audience. In the eyes of the reader, the Koshare are a group of evil or weak men who scheme and manipulate to the detriment of their people. It would be hard for the reader to distinguish between the important religious and spiritual functions of the Koshare, which the admirable Topanashka briefly explains, and the harm that some of the individuals in the group cause. This is why it would be interesting to look into whether or not Bandelier himself, while living with the Pueblo Indians, had any personal trouble with the Koshare. Maybe Bandelier felt that the sect of society was really taking advantage of its power and was controlling or meddling with events that were outside their “jurisdiction”? Perhaps Bandelier hated the Koshare as much as his narrative heroes, Okoya and Hayoue, did? If not, I cannot seem to understand the strong stance Bandelier takes against the group. The author admits that this is a work of fiction but at the same time insists that it is ethnologically accurate. The severity with which Bandelier deals with the Koshare must have been intentional as well as the inevitable effect his account would have on the “public in general[‘s]” opinion of the Koshare.
-Shoshana Schoenfeld
I found Keith H. Basso's exploration of place-making to be an extremely important move for anthropology. As an anthropology major and someone with an interest in spatial theory (along the lines of Gaston Bachelard's "The Poetics of Space"), I feel place is often overlooked or taken for granted. My suspicion is that this is due to contemporary anthropologists general unwillingness to examine the importance of environment. There are a few anthropologists I've come across who excavate "spaces," such as the ethnomusicologist Steve Feld. Just as I believe it is important to examine the physical bodies that constitute the social and the cultural, it is also essential to examine our environment. Culture always mingles with nature.
ReplyDeleteThere were some problems I had with Basso's text, however. "Place-making consist[s] in an adventitious fleshing out of historical material that culminates in a posited state of affairs, a particular universe of objects and events--in short, a place-world--wherein portions of the past are brought into being" (Basso, 6). I think that the metaphor of the place-world is interesting, but the way Basso posits its construction is problematic because it depends on a "fleshing out of historical material." For me, history is always inscribed by the powerful, and therefore may not be fit for the constitution of a true "place-world." In what other ways could a place-world be constituted so as to more accurately portray the story of a particular environment?
Jacob E. Brunner
One of the more striking realities of Pueblo life depicted by Bandelier in the Delight Makers was the fracturing and disunity of family members because of their clan affiliations and the positions that individuals took in the tribe. Zashue is perhaps the best individual in the story to look at in terms of this phenomenon. His relationships with other adult males are restricted to Tyope, Hayoue, and the Koshare Naua in the story; that is we don't see much of any other such relationships. Hayoue is his younger brother and of the same clan, that of the water. Zashue is of the turquoise clan, yet a member of the same religious group as Zashue, that of the Koshare, or delight makers. The Koshare Naua, the leader of the Delight Makers, is also of the Turquoise clan. The situation would not be very problematic, had it not been for the scheming of the Koshare Naua and Tyope against the clan of the water on behalf of the turquoise people. The koshare Naua was Zashue's spiritual leader and Tyope one of his peers, a peer that held great sway over Zashue's thoughts and actions. Tyope is even able to breach Zashue's confidence in his wife, Say Koitza, as he accuses her of witchcraft. Hayoue is convinced not only of Say's goodness, but also of the evil and cunning nature of Tyope and the Koshare Naua, but he is not able to convince his brother of this until it is too late. And it is unfair to blame Zashue for his incredulity, the system and society in which he is living is designed in order to prevent factionalism; intermarriage between clans is required, members of each clan are given to all different religious orders (no one clan has a monopoly on certain positions, until of course the Turquoise disturb the balance). The cost of such a system is the weakening of familial relationships. Zashue does not trust his wife, or takes no interest in his first son okoya because they are of a different clan. The only reason he is interested in his younger son, Shuyote, is because it has been predetermined that he will follow in Zashue's footsteps and become a Koshare. Everything becomes very complicated because of all of these different allegiances and trust issues. A man cannot be free to speak with his wife because she is of a different clan and may reveal important secrets to her people that his own clan may not want leaked. A man's children are of lesser consequence to him because they are not of his clan. And after that, members of his own clan in some cases become secondary to the professional and religious offices that an individual holds, as was the case with Zashue.
ReplyDeleteIn the novel, we see how these issues allow Tyope and the Koshare Naua to rip apart the tribe with considerable ease. It is impossible for the pueblo people to find someone they can confide in. This lack of trust is a common theme for all of the characters. The relationship between Okoya and Hayoue appears to be a rare exception, where both men feel a certain connection and trust, but this is not based on clan affiliation, one is of the water and the other the eagle. It is a lucky break to some extent, that brings the two men together. I feel like the downfall of the Tyounyi was due in part to the culture of secrecy and lack of trust that individuals were forced to live with. Topanshka is another great example. He suspects the turquoise people, but he is unable to discuss his suspicions with anyone because there is no one he trusts and if he were caught would be a breach of his position as Maseua. While reading the novel, I continued to marvel at the patience, and self control that so many of the characters exercised with regards to communicating their fears, ambitions, feelings, and hopes. It was a stifling environment in my opinion. On a larger scale, the construction of the society seemed to antagonize tensions between the clans and within the families.
Thomas Nicholson
There are many striking aspects about Bandelier’s handling of the social dynamics in The Delight Makers. That said I found his juxtaposition of the private community, located within the domestic sphere, and the public community, located in the political sphere, offered invaluable insight into the social dynamics that characterize the pueblo peoples. Bandolier’s representation of these two spheres appeals to me not only because of its historical import, but also, if not more significantly, because of the universality and enduring relevance of his observations. The distinctions Bandelier makes regarding the responsibilities and behavior of the private individual versus those of the public individual, in turn, are not diagnostically specific to the Queres peoples alone, but rather are indicative of and characteristic to the dynamics of, dare I say, complex societies over time and across the globe.
ReplyDeleteThe initial interview between Say Koitza and her father, Topanashka Tihua, dramatizes the conflicting social prerogatives of an individual to his or her family and to the community at large. In a heated argument over societal taboos and private behavior, Topanashka insists upon the importance of strict observation of the former with: “The Koshare know of [your use of owl’s feathers]!” Here, the patriarch’s interest in preserving Queres’ tenets of priority overshadows his intimate investment in his daughter’s welfare. Say Koitza, all too knowingly, acknowledges the tensions between the her father’s paternal and public duties with, “Have the Koshare sent you here, father?” Despite Say Koitza’s acknowledgment of the conflict between the private and public spheres, her father continues to hammer the point home with “No, but if the old men to me and say, ‘Kill the witch,’ I must do it. For you know I am Maesua, head-war-chief, and whatever the principals command I must do, even if it takes the life of my only child!”
When reading The Delight Makers, I was shocked by the first interaction that took place between Say Koitza and her father, Topanashka Tihua. I could not believe that Topanashka, the head-war-chief, would view tribal duties as more important than familial duties. Nevertheless, he clearly shows that this is the case after he learns that Say is accused of witchcraft by the Koshare. He tells his daughter, “If the old men come to me and say, ‘kill the witch,’ I must do it. For you know I am Maseua…and whatever the principals command I must do, even if it takes the life of my only child!” (35). Topanashka answers first to tribal authorities, even if doing so negatively affects a family member. Tribal, or societal, bonds seem to be stronger than familial bonds in this situation.
ReplyDeleteIn terms of this encounter, the social dynamics of the Ancestral Pueblo people seem to be skewed. The fact that the narrator describes Say’s communication with her father as a “dismal interview” only adds to this impression (36). Bandelier could have used the word “conversation” in place of “interview.” By describing Say and Topanashka’s interaction as an “interview,” however, he emphasizes the tribal nature of the talk and its associated power dynamics. As a formal interaction between people of differing statuses, an interview is generally less intimate and less egalitarian than is a discussion between family members. An interviewer has more control in such communications than does an interviewee, whereas disparities in social status are less pronounced or altogether irrelevant in conversations between family members. The use of the word “interview” is crucial to understanding Ancestral Pueblo society in The Delight Makers.
Sarah Sommer
Although The Delight Makers is an unparalleled exposure of prehistoric Pueblo life, by virtue of its narrative edifice, I have to respectfully disagree with Bandelier’s own claim that the book “[clothes] sober facts in the garb of romance” in order to “make the ‘truth about the Pueblo Indians’ more accessible and perhaps more acceptable to the public in general” (Bandelier xxiii). To me, it did not feel at all like a work of fiction; from the very beginning, I had the sense that I was viewing the characters of the story through a quasi-scientific lens. Parts of The Delight Makers, in fact, were distinctly reminiscent of scientific and ethnographic studies of Native Americans, and so I always maintained a certain level of detachment as I read the book, and never was able to fully immerse myself within the lives of the characters.
ReplyDeleteFor one thing, I expected to plunge immediately into the Pueblo society being featured at the beginning of the book, perhaps from the point of view of one of the main characters. Yet Bandelier opens his narrative with four pages of objective description of the landscape surrounding the Rio Grande at the time he wrote The Delight Makers (in the late nineteenth century). Then he actually states outright that the Rito is the book’s setting, that “the language of the actors is the Queres dialect,” and that its events occur at a time “much anterior to the discovery of America” – i.e., the twelfth century (4). Although this information is necessary, the straightforward way in which it is presented detracted considerably from my ability to view the book as more of a work of literature than an ethnographic study.
And even when Bandelier does plunge into the narrative itself, I was unable to fully relate to the characters. He frequently includes long, scrupulously detailed descriptions of what the Pueblos look like, how their living quarters are arranged, and how their rituals are carried out. These tedious descriptions are very rare in works of fiction, which generally adhere to the concept of “show, don’t tell.” Bandelier’s tendency to “tell” more than “show,” and the manner in which he does this “telling,” contributed greatly to my feeling of detachment from the characters and their society. He depicts the Pueblos as if they are specimens that must be examined, creatures that are not quite human (or, rather, not in any way related to Europeans or white Americans). His introduction of Okoya perfectly illustrates this point:
“He was of medium height and well-proportioned. His hands and feet were rather small and delicate. He carried his head erect with ease and freedom … The features of the face, though not regular, were still attractive, for large black eyes, almond-shaped, shone bright from underneath heavy lashes. The complexion was dusky, and the skin had a velvety gloss. Form, carriage, and face together betokened a youth of about eighteen years.”
People are generally not described as “well-proportioned,” and the details about Okoya’s hands and feet hardly seem necessary. It is also important to note Bandelier’s slippage from the pronouns “he” and “his” into the definite article “the.” This, in effect, dehumanizes Okoya, subtly transforming him into an object that is being scrutinized.
Bandelier also frequently interjects his narrative with commentary on the fundamental nature of “the Indian.” This commentary is far from objective; it draws upon and solidifies stereotypes, and sometimes even directly contrasts the Indians with European-Americans. For instance, in the scene in which Shotaye asks Say whether she has a suspicion of being bewitched (because she is experiencing periodic bouts of fever), Bandelier declares, “If such a question were put to us, we should doubt the sanctity of the questioner. Not so the Indian.” He then goes on to explain that “whatever there is in nature which the Indian cannot grasp at once, he attributes to mysterious supernatural agencies” (43). Another instance of this pseudo-objective commentary is in the scene in which Okoya tells Hayoue about his worries concerning the Koshare. Bandelier interrupts the narrative by noting that Okoye’s “speech was picturesque, but not consciously poetic; for the Indian speaks like a child, using figures of speech … because he lacks abstract terms and is compelled to borrow equivalents from comparisons with surrounding nature” (165). These generalizations not only reinforce stereotypes, but also perpetuate the perception of Indians as belonging to a race, or perhaps even a species, that is wholly distinct from the European-Americans.
Moreover, the footnotes that Bandelier sprinkles throughout the narrative, although helpful, distanced me still further from the Pueblos and their society. They not only consist of more commentary on the general habits of “the Indian,” but also make the book look more like an ethnographic study instead of a novel.
Yet on the whole, Bandelier’s work does deserve recognition as an extraordinary description of ancestral Pueblo life. When he plunges into narrative for a sustained amount of pages, his language is incredibly evocative and his dialogue feels real (Tyope’s exchange with Nacaytzusle is a perfect example of this). But The Delight Makers is neither entirely fiction nor entirely a scientific study. Perhaps this is why, as Stefan Jovanovich notes in the introduction, it never attracted its intended audience – “the public at large.” Caught between two genres, two distinct styles of writing, it cannot completely appeal to either the public or to Bandelier’s fellow anthropologists.
The fictional social dynamics presented in the Delight Makers allow and interesting comparison to other analyses of the social dynamics that we’ve read in anthropology papers on the subject. One example would be the role of witchcraft in society, where in Darling’s paper on Zuni witch trials and Cannibalism, he presents witch trials as indicators of increased stress levels and factionalism within Pueblo communities. As Professor Fowles argues in his paper, witchcraft and accusations of such also serve a functional purpose of being a sort of social equalizer, making those in power most vulnerable to accusation of sorcery. These arguments clearly reflect the observer status of anthropologists, who can only look at evidence of what has happened in the past and reconstruct it in the retrospective. Bandalier on the other hand, reconstructs the past by putting us in the perspective of the people involved, giving us a much different impression of the same subject matter. As presented in the Delight Makers, witchcraft has two different aspects in terms of its role in politics. On the side of the perpetrator, as exemplified by Shotaye and Say, witchcraft is a tool of power, a tool for revenge. It provided a means of achieving justice, by allowing a victim of a curse to fight fire with fire. Given the power of witchcraft, exemplified by the ability to cause a drought and thus village wide famine, witchcraft was a very serious matter on the side of the accuser. Accusations of witchcraft weren’t taken lightly, as shown in the story by the dominating effect it had on the village council meeting, which was initiated on an unrelated premise. Witchcraft was a way of putting the blame on someone for very serious issues, but it was also a way of implicating those related to the accused. Tyope used the accusation of witchcraft against Say and Shotaye to further implicate the Water clan as well.
ReplyDeleteThe implication of the entire clan is indicative of the nature of the clan system in the social dynamics of the village. The clan system was the strongest social tie that one had in the village, and clans became representative of the people within the clan. Clans also became responsible for the actions of its own members, which is why Tyope could implicate the entire Water clan based on the actions of one individual. This isn’t to say that Tyope accused everyone in the water clan of witchcraft, but rather, that the Water clan was in some sense responsible for the effects of the witchcraft. Perhaps more surprising to readers like us, however, is the way in which clan ties cut across and in many ways was overshadowed direct family and village ties. This often led to conflicts between direct family allegiances and clan allegiances, manifested on a daily basis by secrets, which husbands kept from their wives, and which wives and children kept from their husbands/fathers. This complex interaction between different social ties is also exemplified by the ability of people to have multiple ways of getting food and other items: either through the clan, or through a family member. Ritual societies are akin to Clans for the same reason; Ritual societies have allegiances which can cross family and village boundaries, as shown by Zashue’s personal conflict when Say was accused of witchcraft, and when Zashue met a Koshare in the Tano speaking village.
Religious societies like the Koshare, are different from Clans however, in that being in such a society inherently means more influence and more power than people outside of the society, and as presented in Bandalier’s book, such influence and power resided only in the village in which the members lived. In the Delight Makers, the Koshare as a group didn’t strive to increase their political or religious influence, however individual members of the Koshare did use the powers they did have to increase their own political and religious influence. The most pronounced of these were Tyope and the Koshare Nauhua, who schemed to use their Koshare powers to gather evidence in order to accuse both Say and Shotaye of witchcraft, as part of a broader plan to gain power in the village.
Looking back on the story with an eye for evidence of post-Chacoan characteristics, there are several subtle things mentioned in the story that identify the village as a post Chacoan society. One of them was the emphasis on duty, with respect to the responsibilities of those who held special offices within the village council system. It was expected that people in such positions should use their powers to do their duty and their duty alone, as seen when Topashanka had no choice but to execute his daughter should she be convicted of witchcraft. Another manifestation of this was when the governor sought advice as to whether to summon a village council meeting, and the advice he received was to do his duty, and to summon the meeting only if his duty required. This same advice was given to Tyope after the battle with the Tehua people from the north, where Hishtanyi Chayan told him “Do you not know that the war-chief should carry the life of his men upon his own heart, and care for them more than for himself? That he should not hunt for scalps in the rear of the enemy, as shutzuna follows a herd of buffaloes to eat a fallen calf?”, which paraphrased, translates to “do your duty, instead of seeking personal gain”. This emphasis on duty served as a check on power: it admonished those who sought personal gain from power, and rewarded those who used the power they had only when it was required, as their duty dictated. This check on power served as a leveling mechanism, attempting to reduce the extent to which people used and gained political/religious power, an idea characteristic of post-Chacoan societies.
- Samrat Bhattacharyya
The accusations of witchcraft, although not unfounded as presented by Bandelier in The Delight Makers, are used in a political move by members of the Koshare to accomplish two goals. First, to establish and maintain their position in the society as protectors of the people, which is also seen in their involvement with practices to enhance rainfall in the typically arid Southwest. Second, they use these accusations as a means to weed out dissenters as they use these accusations to remove those in opposition to their political clout in society. The accusations or suspicions of witchcraft, although powerful, do not seem to be strong enough to have people avoid the person, in this case Shotaye. Shotaye is obviously using witchcraft which others blatantly see, however, unless this comes to give them a political gain or a possible political loss.
ReplyDeleteThe clan affiliations of these people drew precedence over any other associations they had within the tribe. Their affiliations affected who they associated with, where they had their meals, and most of other daily actions. The clan affiliations were more important than the husband/wife bond which causes a dynamic problem within the society as the children are bound to the clan of their mother but the children, especially the boys, desperately try to garner the attention of their fathers who spend a large majority of the time with their clan, separate from their children.
The Koshare are a part of the society that proves that group thinking is not entirely true of the Pueblo societies. The Koshare are an elite group within the system, which automatically gives them a different status from the rest of the society. They maintain this political and religious power through a combination of various traditions which gives them the basic power to maintain the balance in the society, however, they abuse this power by using it to justify their actions and gain more power for themselves. They tie religion into their political power, creating a pseudo-religious state by accusing those who go against them as causing supernatural problems. They use these religious accusations to give them more political power in the society. The Koshare are a prototype for future societies in which the religious leaders also hold the most political power as the fate of the society is intrinsically linked with supernatural powers which the people believe in and the Koshare foster.
-Hannah Galey
I found it interesting how society in The Delight Makers was divided by alliances of clan, family, status- Koshare or otherwise, and insider versus outsider (in the case of witchcraft). Husbands were divided from the rest of their families because clan lines ran through the mother, so in some ways fathers were divided from their children. Additionally, in the case of Say and Zashue Tihua, they be held together by the bonds of marriage, but at the same time they are separated by his status as a Koshare and her status as little more than a housewife. Though presumably Okoya and his mother are “on the same side,” he feels constantly like she will betray him because of her loyalties to Shotaye; loyalties which turn her against anyone related to Tyope. Finally, for Say and Topanashka, his loyalties to the village as war leader overcome his loyalties as her father, forcing him to accuse her of witchcraft. In this way, every one of the Queres members becomes isolated as they can only truly confide or trust themselves. Just glancing over previous posts it looks like other people have recognized this too. The web of loyalties is too complicated.
ReplyDeleteIn some ways it sort of reminded me of 1984, where you cannot really trust anyone and the truth always comes out. Your children, or your spouse can report you to Big Brother and do so without blinking an eye. Of course in the Delight Makers, accusing someone of witchcraft takes a larger emotional tole, but like 1984 the emphasis is on loyalty to your entire people, and its leaders as a whole, rather than on your family. In their role as both political leaders and religious leaders, since religion and politics are frequently blurred, the Koshare become a bit like 1984’s Inner Party—a group set aside from the rest.
The idea of witchcraft in Puebloan society, as the “witches” being people who sought political power seems visibly altered though in the Delight Makers. These people were mostly men and usually trying to take over. This would fit the description of a Tyope character, more so than, a Say character. In Bandelier’s text, however, the focus seems to be more on Euro-American notion of witchcraft: a female who for one reason or another doesn’t fit in with mainstream society. Despite, this change, it’s important when understanding Puebloan witchcraft to know that it typically was a reaction to political ambition.
Finally, I would view this society as markedly different from a Chacoan society because Chaco had many indication of having an elite: the overweight bodies, the great houses as compared to the pit houses, all the indications of great wealth: turquoise, chocolate, etc , whereas ideas of witchcraft during this period, at least in theory, were aimed at eradicating elites from society. In some ways, the somewhat elite nature of the Koshare is a bit of a contradiction in a society aimed at leveling out political power.
Nora Machuga
The explanation of the different clans was an interesting organization of the tribe that I had not earlier understood. In many senses, the Pueblo Indians took form as one big family. As in any family, every member is an important and integral part, regardless of their position or power. The hierarchy- or lack thereof- pointed clearly to a society which regarded every member (in this particular case, every clan,) as important. The tribe strove to place the power (in the form of council and religious leaders) in the hands of each clan by trying to evenly distribute the leadership roles to its constituents. In fact, the inability to do so exactly evenly was what allowed the schism to form between the clans. Even the spiritual rituals did not prefer one group to another, as the group with greatest importance changed with the seasons. This attempt to dispel of any group as the strongest or most powerful can be analogous to a family in which both the father and the mother have equal say in the goings on of the family. Surely, in a balanced family, both parents’ input should have equal importance to ensure that no discord between the two can occur. Similarly, the tribe tried to ensure that each clan could have a share in directing the tribe’s affairs; each clan could help ‘parent’ the tribe.
ReplyDeleteFamilies can talk badly about each other. I was very surprised to see this occur throughout the story. Hayoue, Say and Okoya harbored unhappy feelings towards the Koshare. As spiritual leaders, I would have thought that the members of the tribe would have only felt complete respect and reverence towards such a powerful group. Instead, Hayoue, Say and Okoya frowned upon their methods and actions; they felt that the Koshare were useless, silly and poked their way into the lives of the people. The fact that they could talk at all badly about the Koshare (albeit between themselves) further reinforces the democratic tone of the tribe. Sometimes children feel that their parents are entirely wrong or silly, and might talk about it with each other. Even though they feel their parents might be acting badly, they have no choice but to listen to their authority and follow their lead. Similarly, the three aforementioned characters had no choice but to partake and respect the Koshare openly.
The reason, I think, that the tribe seemed to take on such strong family dynamics was because they were one big family. Marriages between the clans did not necessarily mean that a member would abandon his own tribe; rather, the father still fully belonged to his native tribe and his children belonged to the tribe of the mother. This interesting construct- the placement of a division within the smallest unit of the tribe, the family itself- ensured that the smallest unit still acted in accord with their clan, and thus the clans were so intricately woven so that the tribe itself was one big family. I think that this also allowed the egalitarianism to flourish as it did.
Ashley Ellenson
The Queres society in the Delight Makers seems to me to be evidential of post-Chacoan daily life because of how volatile it seems to be. In their daily lives, witchcraft is not far from the minds of the Queres people. It seems at any moment with a slight action, a person could bring down the accusation of witchcraft upon themselves. The people are very aware of their outward image and take extreme care to follow all religious guidelines an avoid anything that might be associated with witchcraft. Daily life is somewhat unstable because the people know the danger that being associated with witchcraft could put them in. This is indicative of post-Chacoan society because for the time period after the movement away from Chaco there seems to have been an increase in ritual violence.
ReplyDeleteDue to the instability caused by the constant fear of accusation, the relationships within the tribe seem to be rather unstable. For example, the strict clan loyalties create rifts within smaller family units. Fathers are alienated from their children because they are from different clans and must maintain distance in order to protect their clan secrets. In this way, husbands and wives are also distanced from each other. Okoya is reminded many times by his family members to not discuss his clan at all with Mitsha for fear of her telling her mother. Aligning oneself with a system of extended family rather than with one’s own immediate family causes tension between the individuals within the family.
Leah Sikora
Throughout The Delight Makers, witchcraft in Pueblo societies was part of common, passed – down cultural traditions and was used as a means to gain political power and authority over the people. It was a cultural practice which caused a great deal of fear and distress among many tribes and could not be abolished because of the witches’ continual gains in power. When contemplating whether or not his own mother is somehow involved in witchcraft and may possibly be deceiving him, Okoya becomes very angry, afraid, and upset. Bandelier states, “Nothing more detestable or more dangerous than witchcraft is conceivable to the Indian” (160). Okoya becomes fearful of the tribal group Koshare who he believes is involved with witchcraft and who is influencing his own mother. The Koshare did whatever they could to retain their power and their authority in Pueblo societies and since they were already considered as being on a higher level than the rest of society, they were able to keep their rule and maintain control. They used religion as another method of keeping power and were able to mix religion in with their political power that they had established in Pueblo societies.
ReplyDeleteI found it also interesting to note witches seem to have had their own “look” in terms of appearance, behavior, and how they present themselves. On page 108 of The Delight Makers, it says, “If Shotaye be a witch, she certainly is far from displaying the hag – like appearance often attributed to the female sorcerer.” There clearly seems to have been a general appearance of witches in Pueblo societies and their appearance may have been intimidating and may have created more animosity and fear in people.
-Emily Brown
Though I find Bandelier’s story an enlightening read, rather than address the suggested prompt, I prefer to respond to Whiteley’s article Explanation vs. Sensation in which he asserts certain parallels between terror cannibalism among the Hopi and other traditional fairy tales, the same tales we might have enjoyed as innocuous bedtime stories when we were younger. I would like to assert that just as the acting out of folklore among the Hopi by the kachina is a ritualistic experience, so too can the experience of watching a performance of a traditional Western fairytale (I am thinking specifically here of Humperdinck’s opera version of Grimm’s Hansel and Gretel) be considered ritualistic under the terms defined by Victor Turner in Liminality and Communitas.
ReplyDeleteI am constantly reminded of how fairy tales are rife with Freudian imagery, how Shakespeare can sometimes resemble the themes and structures of fairy tales, and now, thanks to Whiteley, I can ponder the universality of the “threat of chaos produced by radical Otherness” within the folktales different cultures tell themselves between the fairytales of Grimm, for example, and Hopi myths (198).
As kids, we don’t fully understand the terror involved in some stories though we do, however, grasp in some capacity the caveats and morals they all include. As Whiteley points out on page 188, the tale of Hansel and Gretel is just one of the many fairytales that center upon the notion of a cannibalistic figure and the terror it seeks to reign upon young children.
Whiteley compellingly discusses the ritualistic performances by the Hopi kachina in which cannibalism is utilized as a story to scare young children into obeying their parents and generally cooperating. Essentially, the kachina go house to house proclaiming their lust for human flesh, playing off of knowing parents, and terribly frightening children. He notes that “nonmembership” (or Otherness) has “cross-cultural occurrence in folklore, myth and ritual” (198). Indeed, each fairytale has a moral or a warning about what not to do, and it is comforting to think of a universal similarity in the ways in which we impart morals to young people.
I would like to put myself back in my mindset as a youngster when I would read various versions and attend (and participate in) performances of the opera version of the classic story of Hansel and his sister Gretel. How did I conceive of the supposedly terrifying figure of the witch? No doubt that as a toddler I could not fully understand the anthropological connotations of cannibalism, but I do think I understood the danger the witch posed to the siblings, if not because I comprehended the implications of a cannibal, but because I could tell from the acting - the range of emotions (from frightened to triumphant after the witch has been killed) expressed by the characters, just as the children for whom the kachina carry out a performance of the traditional myth understand the danger in the fairytale in part by observing the feigned emotional expression of their parents.
According to Turner, this warning against a perceived danger is analogous to the imminent danger that motivates any ritual. Perhaps experiencing the performance of a play is somewhat ritualistic. Separation occurs when you take your seat and decide to surrender to the possibility of believing the enactment you are about to watch. Preconceived notions and even rules of one’s own society should be suspended. The liminal stage is ushered in when the lights go dim and a universal cloak of darkness that mutes socio-cultural and physical differences among audience members takes over.
Furthermore, the audience surrenders much of their own agency by being in darkness for the sake of the performance. Communitas is cultivated through the shared experience of watching the same performance. Hopefully, the play will have imparted audience members with a message or with the inspiration to be self-reflective and will return them to their world (re-aggregation) with a new appreciation.
I might even be able to stretch a connection between a younger version of myself performing in New York City’s Amato Opera’s version of Hansel and Gretel as one of the gingerbread children held captive by the cannibalistic witch, and the performances of the kachina and families of the Hopi pueblos. Indeed, we both were taking part in a ritualized performance of cultural folklore.
Mollie Lobl
It is fascinating to read about the lives of the Ancestral Pueblo and to be able to visualize their daily activities. It is also interesting to be able to compare the social structure presented in the Delight Makers to the our conventionally accepted concept of social ties. The most striking contrast is the division of the family based on maternal lineage, which is the complete opposite of what we generally practice in most Western and European societies. The descriptions of the division between the husband and wife were very foreign to me, but less so when presented through the lens of secrecy and community. The concept of keeping secrets is universal and familiar to members of all societies, no matter the distance and time that separates them. Therefore when beginning to read the Delight Makers, the relationships between mother and son, wife and husband and even between siblings felt intimately familiar to myself, the reader.
ReplyDeleteThe function of accusations of witchcraft in society appears to be a means of exerting power and dominance over other members. Witchcraft is portrayed as a means of gaining power and independence from the rest of society. For example, the main practitioner of witchcraft, Shotaye, is described as an independent woman living alone and more or less shunned by the rest of society. Despite her lowly status, she is proud of her knowledge of medicine and Say Koitza, after burying the owl feathers, also admits to feeling proud of her actions. In this sense, witchcraft is portrayed as a means of self empowerment, especially for women who are excluded from the world of the Koshare and the knowledge associated with the Koshare. Accusations of witchcraft become accusations of deviating from the accepted societal roles, which can be a very dangerous action.
Overall, the portrayal of the Ancestral Pueblo society as a whole is that of a fragmented society being pulled in many directions and held together by marriages and family bonds, which are themselves constantly being tested. The relationship between Say Koitza and her husband, Zashue, exemplifies this conflict and the question of loyalty to an individual or to the tribe. Say Koitza's relationship with her father is another example of the difficulty in deciding loyalties – as much as he cares for his daughter, he admits that he has an obligation to society to kill her if necessary.
Cindy Huang
Bandelier’s entertaining and informative novel is spliced with the commentary of a removed and biased onlooker. Generalized judgments of “the Indian” repetitively interrupt the fluidity of his portrayal of a unique prehistoric culture. As an archaeologist, Bandelier was dedicated to fact and solid information, and he constructed his novel on the foundation of archaeological truths. Throughout The Delight Makers, he constructs images of the American southwest in an ancient and unspecified time, depicting the nuanced interactions between family members and tribal members; he creates a work of art full of description and dialogue to which a reader would be able to surrender himself and learn about a culture by immersing himself in a specific story of such a culture. I say “would” because while Bandelier writes lucidly, he seems unable to portray his characters without constantly interjecting with claims about “the Indian,” thus interrupting his reader’s immersion into the novel itself. The vagueness of his remarks fails to conceal an element of prejudice within them – “The Indian is not an ideal being (13)…Whatever there is in nature which the Indian cannot grasp at once, he attributes to mysterious supernatural agencies (43)” – showing that despite Bandelier’s scholarship, he was a product of his time and his thoughts, likewise, were representative of common contemporary notions of the American Indian.
ReplyDeleteZoe Feld
ReplyDeleteYou'll have to forgive me for tangenting, but I remember Sev saying in class to treat the prompts loosely and I'm taking it to heart. Looking at the responses above, the common tactic seems to be dividing Delight Makers into its constituent novel or ethnography elements. I think this is somewhat problematic, if only because the stilted description and exposition often accused of being ethnographic inserts can also be interpreted as emblematic of the novel style when Bandelier was writing. Along with the fact that we have to accept he may simply not be the finest writer, an inconsistency that we do not often encounter in readings assigned for undergraduate consumption. But the separation also in a sense places value on each description: more novelistic elements can be read without regard to history, while the ethnographic elements may be seen as less constructed and interpretative than they really are. But that distinction, if one presupposes its existence, is not entirely fair. The immediate realization is that the casual juxtaposition of these elements color the other, forcing us to question how much ethnography and history writing in general is a work of a fiction. Is Bandelier's project really that different from any anthropologist attempting to reconstruct and contextualize stone fragments and oral histories?
ReplyDeleteBut why do we assume there to be a juxtaposition? Can that at any level be due to the content? As in it is so hard for us as Western readers to accept Bandelier's Native Americans that it is almost easier to divide and deride as novelistic faux history? Surely we can still recognize the depth of his research and knowledge while still harboring enough distance from the Native Other that we still feel any descriptive element is ethnographical or academic and alien to what we know as a novel. And by novel I mean an implicitly escapist creation that allows the reader to leap from their world into that of the novel. But we are unable to let ourselves to make that leap for a world of Native Americans, which exists more safely in removed dry academic literature. By attempting to create a living world of Native Americans, Bandelier is challenging us to accept it as natural. Of course Bandilier makes his project of history mixed with ethnography fairly clear from the get go, but I have to suspect if we as readers would be as disdainful of the extreme expositioning of cultural artifacts like one sees in Madame Bovary.
Tyson Brody
Scholars have coined the term "Pax Chaco" for the time in the Mesa Verde region in which there was possible peace and egalitarianism among the Pueblo people. Bandelier's novel, "The Delight Makers", spans the period following the Pueblo expansion out of the Mesa Verde region, a period of turmoil, witch accusations, and drought. Although there is evidence that "Pax Chaco" was not a peaceful time at all, but rather a time of intense hierarchies and even human torture and consumption, it is clear that the "turbulent 1200s" reached a new and more complex level of inequality. Hierarchical relations depicted in Bandelier's novel have created an image of post-Chaco relationship dynamic that can be equated with other historical examples as well as examples from the ethnographic present.
ReplyDeleteOne particularly striking moment in "The Delight Makers" occurs when a member of the Koshare tells his daughter that if she is found a witch, he will have to kill her. He says, “If the old men come to me and say, ‘kill the witch,’ I must do it...whatever the principals command I must do, even if it takes the life of my only child” (page 35)! In this instance, the father explains that he would kill his child because it is the established law. This is a relatively simple concept - it does not bring into play economic, psychology, or the implications of the family. His reason for potentially killing his daughter is purely political. Therefore, this example seems to be an early example of the constraints the society places on people to adhere to what is best for the collective above all else. The father's position may seem primitive, yet in the recent past similar positions were taken, as well. During the Holocaust, for example, children in Hitler Youth have informed the Nazi police of offenses against Nazi law, such as helping someone who would otherwise be persecuted, that were committed by their own parents. Adults also turned in their friends if they would later be compensated. This example expands on the political tasking facing the father of this story to include economic incentives as well as the psychological boost to a person's ego for accomplishing the difficult task of reporting someone, in order to uphold what they believe are correct beliefs.
The dynamics between the Koshare and the rest of the Pueblo Indians in Bandelier's novel can be found also in the ethnographic present. Although the Koshare find themselves incredibly important assets to the communities, other individuals see them as arrogant and inessential. A non-Koshare reports, "he always finds time to sneak, to lounge, and to hatch lies, the lazy, good-for-nothing eavesdropper! I tell you what it is, that boy is fit for noting but a Koshare, and a real good one will he become" (page 139). In terms of domestic politics, this harsh statement holds true to the feelings of many individuals about political office holders. When I read these in Bandelier's text, I could not help but think of my US Government teacher's rant of NSA wiretapping last year. It seems relevant in today's society to accuse those with large powers affecting the masses of being lazy or dishonest. Another point that can be drawn from these lines is that of two sides looking at one situation through different lenses, which can be seen nearly infinitely when examining the ethnographic present of international relations. So many wars are fought not because of strong ideological differences, but because of distrust, miscommunication, and not understanding. The Cold War, although not exactly the ethnographic present, was reminiscent of dislike and distrust between the Pueblo Indians and the Koshare. This is because, scholars have argued, The US feared a Russian nuclear attack because Russia was building missiles, therefore the US built up its own military. Russia, however, claims to have built up its military for protection, yet when the US began to built up its military, Russia interpreted it as a threat. This notion of misunderstanding between two parties, therefore, is quite timeless.
In sum, Bandelier does such a marvelous job at portraying the tense dynamic between the Koshare and the Pueblo Indians because he writes about themes that correlate with nearly every society, in some way or another, that is post-Chaco.
Hadas Margulies
I am wondering if it is appropriate to call the society depicted in The Delight Makers stateless? Yes, they did have a constellation of extraordinary socially normative behaviors and hierarchical positions, but does that qualify as statehood? And if not, then the immense immersion of politics in every move that one occupying this society had to deal with in their daily lives was, possibly, even more weighted than statehood. Nuanced political accusations transpire between spouses intermittent nonchalant conversation. If that sort of mandate isn’t political…it is like ooze that can creep into every poor of the atmosphere. On page 303, Say and Zashue spoke concerning the fasting of the nashtio and between their mutual concealment you could have cut the anxiety with a knife. The reader becoming uncomfortable because of it. What is interesting in the novel is that permeation of socially codified normativity: “law”, was shown as a social cohesion and simultaneous divider.
ReplyDeleteAnd then you have contingency.
As I read, I thought about contingencies throughout the book and how they compounded to exacerbate circumstance in the story. The exacerbation being sprouted through radical inferences made inside of the society’s total symbolic system. Example: when Topanashka Tihua observed Shotaye conversing with her salvation; Cayamo, “…quite, calm, not a common spy, but a cool observer of her [Shotaye’s], doings, whose presence was accidental, but who not only watched but at the same time judged and passed sentence on her actions.” He randomly was in the same part of the plain that she was, to see her stumble upon the man who could save her from execution!!?? And then the trail of events we all read occurs as a result…
But in the blog prompt I noticed that it was phrased as possibly “political contingency”, which is very interesting because in order to proclaim that statement you would already have to believe my first observation that every thing is political. And in that case, yes the Delightful society’s fuel was a chain of contingent (non-extricably-political) happenstance (not far from what we live in today, under different guises) that facilitated the narrative.
If we examine the religious and political power in the Pueblo society described by Bandelier, it is easy to view being part of the Koshare as just a means to achieve a position of power; But, to leave it at that is inadequate and actually entirely incorrect. Yes the Koshare have a tremendous amount of influence as evidenced by the contempt that the village has for Shotaye or the fact that Topanashka would kill his own daughter if the Koshare determine that it is his duty to do so. However, the Koshare have this influence as a result of their revered role in their society. A closer reading reveals that the primary function of the Koshare is spiritual; the power that comes along with it is both inevitable and decidedly secondary. Any group that is labeled the “holders of the paths of our lives,” is bound to hold a great deal of power. One could argue that the Koshare abuse their power by placing a social stigma on Shotaye, an undeserving, though troubled Indian woman, who is only driven to perform witchcraft because of the animosity exhibited toward her from the Koshare. I would argue that this is the result of one corrupt member, Tyope, who harbors ill will toward her because of their rocky past. While this shows the potential abuse of power of the Koshare, I would label it as an unfortunate aberration. If we disregard these rare instances involving abuse of power and keep in mind that the Koshare are the spiritual leaders of the tribe that facilitate the path from this world to the next, then we can view them as the good guys. Such a view would demand that the two women who practice witchcraft, Say and Shotaye, are the bad guys here would are using magic for the opposite and incorrect reasons. Shotaye is said to use magic more to harm her enemies than to help her friend. It is interesting that Bandelier chronicles such events that are often scoffed upon in Pueblo society, while at the same time making us sympathize with such transgressors.
ReplyDeleteThe manner in which the Chief of the tribe, Topanashka, speaks of the Koshare shows just how crucial they are to the society. He said that he used to not care for the Koshare, and now that he has learned, he holds them in the highest esteem. To this statement, his daughter who had previously been of a disposition similar to the young Topanashka, seems to be convinced as she calls her father very wise and is disappointed she did not learn of the delight makers earlier. After reading this section, I accepted that the Koshare, despite their importance, are very secretive about their ways. The two boys at the beginning of the book corroborate this notion as the older demands that the younger tell what he knows of them. But I did not quite grasp how strong the aura of secrecy surrounding the Koshare was. For instance, Say Koitza’s husband Tashue is a Koshare himself, a prominent member at that, and she does not even know of their nature until she is a grown woman with three children!
Overall I found Bandelier’s method to be interesting as it opens doors that are often shut to other anthropologists. He synthesizes archaeological fact with unsure supposition. For example, he can use what he knows to be true about the ways the villages were arranged and the oral history of the Koshare, to illustrate what he believes to be the political structure, or lack thereof. In another example, he assumes that there was at least some hostility or conflict between tribes. He does not go into great detail about this, but we can see his assumption by the clandestine manner in which Shotaye ventures into the woods to collect owl feathers so as not to be seen by any dangerous outsiders. Without definite citations in each story, the reason for this element in the story could have been archaeological, but the reader is not sure if it is fact or mere hypothesis, which I think adds an interesting aspect of uncertainty.
Paul Corcoran
The Delight Makers is not a book that I would see in a bookstore and willingly pick up to read. After reading the introduction, I thought the novel was going to be strenuous task that I would have to get through, but honestly, after the 30th page, I had a hard time putting it down. I feel like in anthropology, people put so much thought and interest into learning about the artifacts, but forget that we are learning about actual people. These people woke up every morning, they ate, they thought, the communicated, they had intimate relationships, they loved. They were human beings who had happiness, confusion, and pain in their lives. Sure, their problems differed from ours today, but they weren’t an artifact, they were people. I feel like Bandelier’s novel reminds us of this fact. Yes, this is a fictional story with fictional characters, but I feel like there is so much truth and so much substance can be learned from reading a novel like this one, that can be overlooked by merely analyzing an ancient arrowhead, say. Bandelier would take that arrowhead and find who would use it, how it was used, and why. From there, a narrative is formed. A story of a boy who was finally old enough goes on his first hunting experience with his dad. How does it go? What is he feeling when he finally learns to use an arrow? How does he feel when he kills his first animal? This is the stuff that makes people passionate about the past. We want to know how the Native Americans felt and what they went through, not merely what they did. Bandelier knows this fact. It would be wearisome to read an academic work that just regurgitates the rituals of the Koshare, but when reading the novel, I could not wait to learn what would happen next. The information is given but in a new, refreshing way.
ReplyDeleteIt is obvious by reading through many of the posts that the relationships of the Native Americans in the novel are what people found most intriguing. The way people interact in the book is foreign to us. Firstly, we are confused as to how Topanashka could be willing to kill his only daughter if that is what the Koshare commanded. Bandelier even makes it seem as if he is showing more care for his daughter than most men in his position would have done. We look at this situation and judge the father. How could he be willing to kill his daughter? That’s awful! But, who are we to make that judgment? Relationships were obviously different between these people than they are today. We act just like Columbus and the Europeans did when they arrived in America. We look at the relationship and see that it is vastly different from today, so it must be horrible and savage. Yet, when we learned about Columbus, many people were outraged by his judgmental attitude. Have we really changed all that much? People say that our society has become so open-minded and accepting of other cultures, but that does not seem to be the case in this situation.
Another theme prevalent in the above posts is the discussion of women. Why aren’t the women told anything about the Koshare? How could they not tell the women certain rituals? Say’s husband is a Koshare; how dare he not tell her what he does in the secret society! But, okay, lets take a step back. How recently even our own culture did women get equal rights? Some even think that women today still don’t have equal rights. How can we stand here and judge the people of the Koshare and their ways? Yes, the relationships are vastly different than the relationships of today, but I think that is what makes them interesting. Bandelier gives us an inside as to why the relationships are as they are. We should find them as engaging and thought-provoking, rather than utterly appalling.
Christina Henderson
Social dynamics played a key role in this Pueblo village as described by Bandelier’s story. For instance, there was much tension amongst the different clans. There are constant references to certain Indians staying amongst their “own people.” One anecdote that resonated with me was the one that began with Shyuote hurling a stone at Sayap, a member of the Corn people. When numerous boys of the same tribe track down Shyuote and begin to surround him, the clan nature of the Pueblo people can be understood. By injuring Sayap, Shyuote had in fact cast a figurative stone at the entire Corn people, and now they were going to make him pay for his transgression. Perhaps a fitting end to this story, keeping with the close-knit clansmen way of life, would have resulted in an unceremonious beat down for Shyuote on behalf of the Corn people chasing him. However, Mitsha’s character throws a wrench into this entire plan, and Bandelier’s departure from the expected result adds an unforeseen layer to consider when assessing the social dynamics of the Pueblo peoples.
ReplyDeleteThere was also a noticeable factionalism touched upon by Bandelier in his discussion of Koshares and non-Koshares. Okoya’s mother had vehemently warned Okoya against fraternizing with Tyope, a Koshare. Tyope, however, is the father of Mitsha, and Bandelier creates an interesting situation for when Say Koitza first sees Mitsha with her son. At the time, she of course does not put together that Mitsha is the daughter of Tyope, and Say Koitza muses about how beautiful Mitsha is and how she and her handsome son make a good match. Say feels great sentiments of pride, seeing her son dancing with such a beautiful girl. However, later when Say inquires as to the identity of the girl, and she discovers she is in fact the daughter of Tyope, a Koshare, Say becomes livid. This occurs despite her feelings of pride about the match earlier, and despite the fact that Mitsha even saved Syuote from certain harm. At this point in The Delight Makers, Okoya has gotten to know Mitsha and has developed at least some sort of feelings for her, however Say appears unwilling to even give her a chance due to her father. This is a story reminiscent of one that has occurred throughout literature and human existence, that of disapproving of another because of one’s background (or one’s father’s background). Of course in this work, there is legitimate reason for Say to be quite wary of the Koshares, and especially Tyope, but in either event, some of the social dynamics between those who are Koshares and those who are not are revealed in this way, and it is interesting to note how similar dynamics have existed before then, and continue to exist now.
David Sims
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ReplyDeleteThough Bandelier’s work is one of undeniable ethnographic value, approaching the text as an attempt at fiction led to some immediate distaste on my part for the opinions therein. As was noted in lecture by a student, Bandelier peppers The Delight Makers with his own subjective commentary on the community he is describing. He easily and often makes sweeping statements about the reasons for his characters’ actions, attributing them to the way or nature of the Indian. Not only is the entire community subsumed into one sort of character, the wide use of the word “Indian,” even aside from its present day political incorrectness, makes no distinction between the different tribes and cultures. Yet Bandelier acknowledges in the plot of his book that there are distinctions between the Navajos and the Queres. His numerous statements about the lives and way of the Indian leave one wondering whether they are in any way valid ethnographic observations.
ReplyDeleteWhile the emotional states and responses of individuals are certainly influenced and often directed by their cultural upbringing, is it fair for Bandelier to have said thing such as “The Indian is quite indifferent to the sights of nature, except from the stand-point of strictest and plainest utilitarianism” (195)? Especially as an author bridging both ethnography and fiction, there is a struggle to see these sorts of comments as anything but false and jarring in such a way that the suspension of disbelief is interrupted. At least one Indian might have cared about the sights of nature as being breathtaking. And who exactly is Bandelier to say these things? Most often the best cultural fiction is written by someone who was raised within it—they hold a degree of insight completely unattainable for an outsider, yet, as critical authors and through use of hindsight, are also able to achieve a degree of distance through which they can both explain and interpret a certain way of life. Bandelier was lacking this authenticity, yet he made generalized statements about the nature of the Indian from a perceived position of authority. Though he has given us a valuable picture of the past, he is strongest when he focuses on the individual emotions of his characters, such as Say’s near breakdown when she visits Shotaye, terrified of being put to death. It is here that Bandelier is truly strongest, for while he strays from his ethnographical pursuits, he creates a real person, an element which is rarely lacking from other non-fictional ethnographic studies.
Anastasia Lugo Mendez
aml2154
During our conversation in class about the stigmatized term, “complexity,” I began to think of why we consider certain things to be complex and others to be simple and how future archeologists would perceive our own society. Modern day excavation sites may as well be considered ancient garbage pits. The ancient equivalents of landfills, abandoned buildings, and discarded belongings, more generally, trash, is what archeologists survey and extrapolate from. Understanding people through their garbage makes a lot of sense, but I feel that our thinking concerning complexity and the hierarchal ladder system of societies has been erroneous. The monumental architecture, grand and showy, does not necessary mean complex. Though it tells us about their way of life, fitting societies into a neat ladder model is fallacy on the part of the anthropologist. Basing the complexity of a society on the superficiality of pure objects may be very misleading. For example, in our modern society, there is a new emphasis on the eco-friendly and lessoning our carbon footprint, if our future societies become environmentally sound and conserve natural resources, there will theoretically be less trash to extrapolate from. Though on a purely cosmological and aesthetic level, the society would seem “simple,” the ideas and theologies behind it were not simple at all and were in fact quite complex.
ReplyDeleteI feel like this example should be applied to our thinking about the indigenous cultures of North America. Though the imprint that the archaic hunter-gatherers left on the Earth was not as dramatic or showy as that of Chaco Canyon, it does not necessarily mean that it was less “complex.” Rather, it draws upon inherent characteristics of the culture like the value and importance of conserving and respecting the environment versus creating some monumental structure for a different reason. It is with this resolved state of mind toward thinking of ancient cultures, or for that matter, any culture that should always be used and was effectively used by Bandelier in “The Delight Makers.” Instead of denying them a history, or motives, or values (pre-history) he shows us the politics and the personalities of a culture that we lose by merely evaluating objects. It is important to draw upon these points when assessing foreign culture, especially when we begin to assign terms that hold such stigma to them. Clearly, cultures cannot be held on a spectrum between simple and complex because those terms truly do not exist in the realm of Anthropology.
-Sarah Darro
The ‘Delight Makers’ shows the Ancestral Puebloan society as a complex tangle of both strong tribal and familial relationships. Often, men and women from separate tribes start a family. This can result in a strain on the familial structure as the children are usually expected to become members of the maternal tribal structure. This leaves the men in a very difficult place because they have to make a decision to stay loyal to their tribe or to stay loyal to their family. This tension is a common point of political strife in the Pueblo community. Because of the convoluted lines of allegiance there is often a struggle to gain power and loyalty within the political structure of the society. One tactic that was employed by some to garner the loyalty of individuals to one group as opposed to another was to accuse a person of witchcraft. This grave accusation served to drive a wedge between familial lines and skew where allegiances lie. People don’t want to be associated with someone accused of witchcraft. Witchcraft is blamed for almost everything bad that happens in the village and no one wants to be close to someone that is connected to the unfortunate events.
ReplyDeleteClan affiliations were very important in the day to day lives of the pueblos. The people in your clan are who you interact with on a daily basis to accomplish all the things that need to be done. The different people in the clan all have different responsibilities that are necessary for daily life to run smoothly. The people in your clan are also the people that are there to protect you if there is ever a conflict. The allegiances of the clans can be fluid as there are affiliations that people develop outside their own clan and decisions must be made for either the welfare of the individual or the welfare of the clan.
- Caroline Van den Berg
Accusations of witchcraft can be very much political and sway the power balance between potentially dangerous sorceror and victim, depending on the victim’s status. Magic is viewed as vital to existence but also as evil, depending on its objective. The Koshare have access to the knowledge of what objects to use and how to use them to perform magic. When one fears “danger from evil sorcery, it is his duty to consult the proper shaman for relief, unless he should be sure of the person of the sorceror, in which case he may kill him outright without even mentioning the deed” (45). This need for certainty is fraught with problems for only shaman know about the rituals and objects involved in the practice of magic. Thus even Shotaye herself is regarded with suspicion by the others and takes pains to avoid questions that reveal her knowledge of magic. If she were accused of possessing such power, she would be killed. Say herself is in questionable position for asking Shotaye for help, for bypassing the traditional healing shamans – even though Shotaye believes the Koshare are actually causing her illness.
ReplyDeleteClan affiliations influence day-to-day negotiations of the village members – even within families. For example, when Say questions whether she should have told her husband about Shotaye practicing magic, she reminds herself that they are separated by membership in very different groups. They belong to different clans. Thus she does not tell her own spouse about involvement with Shotaye, despite her qualms at keeping secrets from him. Though they are tied together through marriage, clan affiliations continue to play a role in their interactions.
Clan affiliations continue to bear influence on daily interactions with adopted clan members. Nacaytzusle was adopted by the Turquoise clan when he was a mere toddler, but is still referred to as the Navajo or the Dinne by the Tyuonyi Tyope. Tyope’s own daughter refuses to marry Nacaytzusle, as she considers him as a Dinne though he can speak both dialects and was taken in by the Queres at such a young age – even after his parents were scalped by his adopted clan.
Ritual societies such as the Koshare are highly involved in the building of both religious and political power in how they are charged with the heady task of keeping the people content and helping crops grow and how they are allowed access to the knowledge and practices necessary to accomplish tasks. They are regarded with fearful respect by all – indeed if a disease were to be caused by the Koshare, it would be “not only useless, [but] dangerous even to call upon any chayan for relief” (46). Only they can “fast, mortify themselves and pray to Those Above that every fruit may ripen in its time” (34). The rituals they undertake and body of knowledge relating to these rituals that they have access to separate them from the rest of the people and elevate their status and agency. No one dares question their authority to access this knowledge and perform their specific practices since they are shamans.
-Monica Qua Hiansen
I was astounded by the unforgivably strict social boundaries between the various clans of the overall Pueblo population, and furthermore fascinated with how the practice of witchcraft plays an important role in shaping these boundaries. Even more interesting are the ramifications of the tribes’ interactions with one another, through marriages. Indeed, the conflicting tribes’ members’ marrying and raising children together creates even greater tension between these differing groups. Because of this, unfortunately, many spouses could not be honest with each other, out of fear, for example, that one’s wife will no longer uphold her alliance to her husband who belongs to the enemy tribe that she belongs to. Exemplifying this tribal tension is the conflict between the Koshare and the other tribes. A rather troubling instance of this family-tribe [conflict] is illustrated with Say Koitza and her suspicion of witchcraft. An accusation of witchcraft in any of the tribes was entirely devastating – even though the accused one is married to a prominent societal figure, he most likely cannot do anything about it. Thus, when Say is suspected and eventually accused of practicing witchcraft, her husband can do very little to save her. Bandelier demonstrates the emotional agony that Say undergoes when she allegedly practices witchcraft. Pained by the fact that she cannot tell her husband – because she is both ashamed and hesitant to mix him up in this (as any involvement with witchcraft is a crime). Her involvement with witchcraft also illustrates the differences in which these people deal with conflicting allegiances. Though Zashue, her husband remains loyal to her, Say’s father has much more trouble deciding who he vows his allegiance – he claims he loves his daughter, but would resort to her execution if her actions ever threatened the tribe.
ReplyDelete-Megan Brown
An aspect of this text I found that may have been most contemporaneously shocking to readers of Bandelier was the easy and subtle ways the author hinted at the idea that these Indians were no different from the readers of this book. There are many instances where the characters act in a way that universalizes their particular situation so as to prove to the reader that the Indians do indeed fall under the same umbrella as all other (European) members of the human species. In my experience with fictional narratives, the main goal of the author is to ultimately connect their reader to the characters in the book, to find that common ground where reader can understand character and learn something from mentally adapting to that character’s situation. Bandelier succeeds, in my opinion, at this daunting task; there were multiple occasions when I took a step back and thought, “Wow. I did that as a child. I didn’t realize that the native Americans, with their wholly foreign systems of religion and politics and family, would have done this exactly the way I do it.” For instance: the scene in Chapter II wherein Shyuote has just been defeated by the girls and returns home for supper. His mother calls him to dinner, saying “Remember Those Above,” and like a child following orders only for the sake of following an order, “Shyuote, imitating the example of Okoya, crossly muttered a prayer, and scattered bread crumbs before him” (30). This particular action rings so true in my memories of growing up Catholic, when, as a child, I followed religious orders like saying prayers before meals even when I was in a bad mood just because I knew I was expected to. A child cannot fully understand religion, nor its rituals, and Shyuote displays this in his continuous crossness. For some reason I expected more; I expected that the child would rid himself of his petulance in order to properly praise the Gods for his meal. I suppose I expected this because of the overly-spiritualized way in which Native Americans have been presented to me, and in the back of my mind I would have expected all members of the community to rise above the pettiness of everyday life struggles in order to praise their Gods. In this way, my mind glorified Native American peoples; I subconsciously thought that their political and familial systems allowed a superior adherence to their spirituality and consequently I believe I thought of these peoples as better, at least in a religious sense, than our society today. Yet this one subtle example of a child who meaninglessly followed ritual brought me down to earth; after reading Luther, I believe as humans it is impossible to always be truly devoted to your religion without fully believing it inside, regardless of the rituals you produce outside of yourself. Bceause Shyuote wasn’t quite old enough to really understand his religion, as I was not at his age in Catholic school, I don’t see it as abnormal that he would go through the ritual of faith even when he didn’t really believe in what he was doing. Bandelier subtly displays this aspect of human nature in just a few lines to remind readers that, though their ritual before meals may consist of a different action, the concept is universal and, as I did, the reader can relate to Shyuote. There are many other instances throughout the text where Bandelier, in presenting a simple, minute aspect of the Indians’ lives, helps the reader to realize the extreme similarities between themselves and the characters.
ReplyDeleteAnother more overarching theme that I found to have the same effect (that of portraying a human nature that even I today can relate to) is one of treachery and betrayal. In the first few chapters alone we see a troubled adolescent who believes his mother to have betrayed his trust (Okoya), a father whose daughter has betrayed the rules of society (Topanashka Tihua and Say Koitza), and a member of one tribe who allies with another and then quickly turns on him (Tyope and Nacaytzusle). Bandelier observes and presents extremely intricate social relations to reflect the complexities of the social systems in place; the complexity should not be interpreted as any less intricate than a European social hierarchy. The Delight Makers, with the fear they invoke reign and yet Say’s husband is one himself and she is able to undermine him with her witchcraft. There are so many varied examples of rules being broken and boundaries crossed that Bandelier succeeds in proving to his readers that native society contains the same evils as any other society, and because this is a fictional narrative and conflict is central to the plot, we as readers see our fair share of corruption and treachery in this society. But what Bandelier is really trying to prove here is that we have the same treachery in our societies; we just manifest it differently.
-Elissa Cashman
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ReplyDeleteI would like to use the following quote, also used by a previous blogger. “It may be said of the red man that he keeps his secrets in the same manner that he lives- namely, in groups or clusters. The reason is that with him individualism, or the mental and moral independence of the individual, has not attained the high degree of development which prevails among white races” (p.13).
ReplyDeleteI found this specific quote noteworthy because the it is stated that the Pueblos lack the "development" of other races in order for the individual to have independent thought. Whether the individualism manifests as witchcraft, an exchange of gender roles, or overcoming social/political/religious pressures, in the Pueblo society, this would have not only been discouraged but simply not possible. But rather than an undeveloped community, could this not be evidence of a society that is concerned with the general welfare of the group as a whole? Rather than encouraging each individual to be his own person, the community as a whole weeds out disruptions, such as the inevitable witch. Sounds a bit like socialism.
The Pueblo society might have been an underdeveloped society with specific gender roles and explicit expectations of each person, but the structure of tightly-bound communal tribes prevalent during the time is closer to a socialist state that actually works than many failed attempts we have seen in history. People might have jumped to conclusions and ostracized their neighbors, fearing the oddball individual who was different from the norm, but they were doing what was best for their tribe as a whole. A society can either encourage individualism, and end up with artistic and intellectual geniuses, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, the witches and whatnot who cause harm and bring evil; or keep everyone in check and not have any outliers. These are two extremes, but I guess I just always find it interesting when people state that this society was underdeveloped unlike that society. Not only did we not live through it, but even if you did, you would have a biased interpretation on how you lived. Maybe that was just what worked best for them, maybe it didn't work and they knew but they couldn't figure out another way or it was too hard to change. But I guess we'll never know for sure and the best we can do is study and analyze what we can find.
-Hannah Chang
Bandelier's text is a structure built upon ruins for foundation and conjecture for walls. It is as though the archaeological sites of the Pueblos have given us an incomplete outline, and Bandelier has connected the lines together, as well as colored the image. What Bandelier accomplishes with this method is a humanization of the Puebloans. The effect is similar to how the film Jurassic Park makes dinosaurs appear scarier, because to see them in the context of completion and movement takes away the removal of incomplete fossils and skeletons. Thus, Bandelier uses fiction to make the Pueblo people and lifestyle seem more real. His story is built upon as much archeological support as possible; however, his conjectures of the Puebloans emotional life is composed heavily, if not entirely, of conjecture. However, the fact that Bandelier feels at liberty to do this, points to an emotional identification with the Puebloans that bridges differences in time, geographical location, and social structure.
ReplyDeleteOne particular emotional sense, however, also pervades the social structure as presented by Bandelier. This is the concept of duty, which is both an emotional foreground and a precept of social structures. One example of the emotional and societal relationship to duty is Topanashka, Say's father, who "was maseua, or head war-chief, of the tribe [...] and as often as [the civil governor] communicates to him any decision of the tribal council he is bound to execute it. [...] He was highly respected for his stern rectitude and obedience to strict duty. [...] Duty to him was paramount, and yet he could not utterly stifle this longing to save his only child from a cruel and ignominious fate." Thus, duty is both something felt by and imposed upon the Puebloans. Furthermore, it is a means of gaining esteem in the society.
While we can never be sure of its validity, the weight with which Bandelier presents duty lies at the very core of the Puebloans societal structures. Duty is not felt by an individual when considering only himself. It connects the individual to others and places him in a societal domain. Thus, the emotional importance Bandelier places upon duty affects the nuances of the society and the individual's relationship to it. For Bandelier presents a society run by duty, thus it is the individual's feeling this emotion that fuels it.
The Pueblo society's structures are formed around duties. For example, as a man's duty is to gather food, his realm is the land outside the home. Likewise, as a woman's duties revolve around the home, she has the power in her home. Thus, the power structures and relationship dynamics are built around the duties of the individuals.
The most interesting set of duties are those concerning supernatural powers. Members of society with supernatural powers were considered to have duties touching upon every part of life; therefore, their political realm was not limited to magic. One particularly important duty was to find and execute evil sorcerers. The difference between the sorcerers and the Koshare appears to be the difference of duty.
The Koshare perform their duties for the society. Their duty seems almost to be that of sacrificing themselves, for example fasting for days in order to beckon the rain. Thus, these men of magic essentially sacrifice their individual beings to society as a duty. Therefore, they are people whose very beings are linked to the society, and for this they are venerated and followed. It follows that in a world in which duty reigns, relationships also reign.
Accusations of witchcraft, therefore, seem to be rooted in this departure from society. Shoyate was first suspected of evil sorcery for she lived alone in her cave, which was an anomaly. Also, evil witchcraft is that used for personal purposes, such as Say's wish to find the root of her illness. Thus, evil in this society seems rooted in the disposal of relationship bonds, or the disposal of duty.
Thus, Bandelier's conjecture of the importance of duty on both an emotional, individual level and a societal level is essential to the way in which his story unfolds.
“He suppressed the thoughts of rebellion that had arisen, and strolled on, crossing the creek and hunting for his father among the corn-patches on the other side. But his good humour had left him. Instead of being triumphantly buoyant, he felt morose and humiliated.” In class, we briefly talked about socialization for fear, a deployment of fear (or scare/intimidation) tactics to keep the people of a society in line and to ensure that they obey both implicit and explicit social norms and regulations. Accusation, as it appears in Adolf Bandelier’s The Delight Makers, is ultimately a response to fear in both a specifically spiritual way (fear of what the witches might bring to the community) and in a more broad cultural way (accusation and the fear of witches is so deeply embedded in the social structure and hierarchy of the pueblos that to disband it is to call into question the authenticity of the entire society. Fear and accusations are methods for preventing rebellion. However, I want to make this step cautiously. One must be careful not to hinge a society on its “traditional” practices. Evolution and progress, as we have tried to understand it in this course, is change, in one form or another. Societies evolve differently, simply by way of new generations of children being born. I read a review of the book comparing the book to a Greek tragedy, one in which the community “falls apart.” I would argue that it did not fall apart, but that it was rocked profoundly by a combination of internal and external forces. There are always going to be different ways to interpret major changes in a society. If we are to look at the “end” of Queres through a different lens, fate might play a bigger role. Did they fail to live up to their own expectations for themselves, or was there a bigger goal at hand that they could not, and would not give up? Does that define their success rather than their “destruction?”
ReplyDeletePerri Goldstein
In the context of the story, accusations of witchcraft resulted in extreme anxiety and isolation. The most obvious example of this was the consequences the accusations had for Shotaye, who eventually decided that it would just be better for her to leave the village. As a political tool, the accusation of witchcraft (like any other reprimand in any society) functioned as a way to reinforce social norms. The consequences of such accusations were known, and thus, members of the society were aware that they should not act in a manner that appeared suspicious (and thus, left the possibility of being accused of witchcraft open).
ReplyDeleteOn a semi-related note, I went on a little Google mini-fact hunt to find other sources regarding the views the Pueblo people had regarding witchcraft. Interestingly enough, the according to the sources I consulted, witchcraft permeated Pueblo life. For someone to be accused of witchcraft was not surprising, and many even suspected that their family members may have engaged in such activities. In this context, I found the characterization of the Pueblos as being confused and scared of witchcraft highly unusual. It appears then, unsurprisingly, that Bandelier wrote his story with a European lens (perhaps this was inevitable), projecting European confusion regarding witchcraft on the Pueblos in his story in order to elevate their moral status in the eyes of the reader. I understand his intentions, but it is too large of a discrepancy to be ignored.
--->Nonye Madu
To me, the most poignant aspect of Bandelier’s narrative was the ongoing tension between belief in higher spiritual powers (the Shiuana) and the need to act or to have faith in human ability. This conflict manifests itself in Okoya’s conversation with Houaye regarding Mitsha and Say Koitze. Okoya has heard tidings that hint at his mother’s witchcraft, which is a spiritual danger to the tribe and an act against the Shiuana. Houaye reprimands his nephew, urging him to trust his mother and to have faith in his relationship with her. Okoya listens to his uncle and treats his mother accordingly. At the same time, however, the reader is aware that Say is, indeed, guilty of witchcraft. These values also come into conflict in Tapanashka’s awareness of what Say has done. As the a tribal leader, he is bound to honor the spiritual interests of the tribe as a whole and root out witchcraft. But he respects his familial ties rather than his spiritual obligations and doesn’t betray his daughter.
ReplyDeleteWhat I found most interesting about the concept of witchcraft in the book was the fact that while there were many speculations about whether or not Say had used owl feathers and black corn, there was a palpable reluctance among the characters to cast her as a witch. Absolute proof was needed, for one thing: When Tyope says that he heard Say and Shotaye speaking of witchcraft, his testimony is still not enough for the council to condemn her. Say cannot conceive of herself as a witch, and neither can the reader; she lacks the strength of will and perverse intentions that Shotaye has.
The clan system of the Queres served as both a unifying and classifying source within the tribe. On one hand, the fact that the tribe was broken up into clans sometimes gave way to conflicting interests and demands. The strongest portrayal of such conflict was the meeting called by the tapop to discuss reallocation of land and resources. On a more mundane level, the fight between Shyuote and the young girls results in clan fighting clan, demonstrating the clan mentality of even the youngest of the Queres. On the other hand, however, the clans were united through the very structure of the family. The fact that couples from different clans could marry and have a family served to fuse the interests of the clans and make them more sympathetic to one another. These family connections did not always lead to peacemaking efforts, however. Through the discussion of the council, it becomes obvious that these clan alliances can make the politics of the tribe even more convoluted and entangling.
The Queres tribe was recognizably post-Chacoan, if only for the absence of a central place of pilgrimage. Also, there was no particular elite group present in the society; instead, the clan system made the tribe more egalitarian than anything else.
On a lighter note, I found Bandelier’s insertion of French phrases into his descriptions of Pueblo society incredibly amusing. This particular narrative quirk can conceivably reflect some sort of projection of Western modes of description onto a nonwestern society. However, I’d like to give Bandelier the benefit of the doubt, as his novel was written for a Western audience. His French-isms make the social life of the Queres more relatable to his Western readers.
Ray Katz
In the opening pages of The Delight Makers several of its author’s outdated beliefs become apparent, most uncomfortably in his descriptions of Queres architecture and the tribe’s women.
ReplyDeleteWhen Bandelier describes Shotaye’s cave dwelling, passages are “too short to deserve the name of tunnels,” and she has only a “crude chimney,” “primitive flue,” and “primitive mill.” (106) He describes other buildings in this way, and is also guilty of generalizing Puebloan disposition to an unrealistically homogenous degree. (“The Indian is…,” “The Indian does…”)
As to his depiction of the Indians, Bandelier follows the Victorian literary tradition of indicating a character’s worth, goodness, or importance through his or her physical beauty (Okaya’s uncle is strikingly handsome, and more clear sighted than his weaker Koshare brother; Mitsha’s sisters are less attractive and not central to the plot, etc.)
What is kind of hilarious is that Bandelier seems to have been taken aback by the Puebloan women; this laboriously academic work of fiction has many references to curvaceous bodies that ironically highlight the flatness of his female characters. Almost each woman is introduced by a description like this: “The antagonists of Okoya and Shyuote were buxom lasses, rather short, thick-waisted, full-chested…” (22).
Thankfully, one of these lovely women is allowed to be a more mature character, but even her entrance into The Delight Makers is prefaced in this way,“[Shotaye’s] chest is of that fullness that develops at an early age in the women of the Pueblos” (107). Shotaye is the instigator of the conflict and tragedy of the plot, but Bandelier falls over himself to entice his readers with the perfect antidote to Victorian repression: a scantily-clad, strong-willed and exotically beautiful witch (whose “lips are parting and sensual” 108). She is even a sexual object to some of the tribe; “The men knew that the woman showed no objections to occasional attentions, even to intimacy.” (42)
But Shotaye is The Delight Makers most human character, and one of Bandelier’s best lines is “Shotaye had almost become—
‘Part of the power that still
Produceth good, whilst ever scheming ill.’ ” (119)
She is psychologically sophisticated, courageous and—a Bandelier favorite—“resolute.” Shotaye is careful to defend herself from her husband, aware that she is in constant danger of being accused of witchcraft. It is also important that she is without family and is therefore able to be more antonymous than many of the Queres. Instead of being moved by plot currents she must choose her own course of action, including her decision to stay with Say when she could have fled.
Doomed like her community and alone, readers feel an affinity for her. After Shotaye is alerted to the danger she is in and recognizes that she will probably be killed, “she wanted the glow [of the fire]…to brighten the room; for with the dark and tangled subject on her mind, she felt the need of light and warmth as her companions in musing”(115).
Although hindered by contemporary modes of thought, Adolf Bandelier has given a minority woman a human face, as he has for her largely forgotten community.
Galen Boone
To start, The Delight Makers was the most enjoyable book I have read for a class in years. Not only does Bandelier write based on research, but he writes well. He engages the reader in the lives of the people at Frijoles Canyon, creating relatable characters and a storyline that we follow throughout the book. While some terminology and phrases can be seen as problematic or biased, for the most part, he refrains from simplifying the Native American as so many have done in the past. I believe that this work provides wonderful insight and even helps to eliminate some of the orientalism that blurs Western understanding of the earliest Americans. Instead of seeing traditions and materials as intriguing, we can begin to see them in a context where they are normal. This book helps to take away the “gasp”, “ooh”, and “ahh” reaction to Native Americans.
ReplyDeleteWhat really makes this work as unique is its presentation of the complexities of life in the village. When we view archaeological remnants of Native Americans, stories behind the objects are often lost or deemed too contentious to interpret. Yet interpretation (even if it is partly guess work) is what brings us a greater understanding of the possible lives of the people in the past. From the beginning, this village is portrayed as busy and political. There are people tending the crops, while others hunt, and still others are busy with social sorts of activities. Bandelier explains the way that clans are determined by maternity, but he also shows how the family is centered around the maternal family line. There are also different factions established immediately. When people think of “Indians” stereotypically, they often think of the chief as the head of the group; but they never think of the politics that surround the chief or possible dissent among the group. Okoya “hates the koshare” and his mother agreed. Once he thought the secret was out, he immediately feared for his well-being. At once this struck me as similar to the politics in many “modern” societies today. In many countries, people can be hurt, imprisoned, or even killed for speaking against the reigning political power. It almost reminded me of 1984. The fact is that the situations in this book, while distinctively Native American, dealt with complex political issues that still incite fear in people today.
Yes, this may be skewed since it is a novel and written by a man from modern times. However, it made me rethink the way I have previously looked at Native American bands, clans, chiefdoms, or whatever you want to call them. Perhaps we look at this in the wrong way. We assume that in larger states, there is more hierarchy and more political action. In smaller states, they were closer to egalitarian, so there were less politics to deal with. In reality, in smaller states, people are more directly linked to and affected by political dealings. There are fewer people to be involved, so everyone cares even more. In large, hierarchical societies there is less of a direct connection between leaders and their people. Individuals have less of an impact on policy. This leads many to apathy. It may be that the “lower steps” on the “ladder” of societies were more socially complex that the state.
I wrote the above comment (my account name is Michelle H.)
ReplyDeleteMichelle Hutt
Bandelier’s descriptions of the landscape and the living environment of Pueblo Indians are very interesting despite his horrifying ethnocentricity and racism. However, his Indians are not very believable. No wonder that this “methodology” never really made any break-through in academic circles. We cannot escape the narratives of course, but it is perhaps a good idea at least to skip the dialogues when attempting to write scholarly and scientific works on societies that are not our own. His characters seem unrealistic in their mixture of presumably native and recognizable Western behaviors.
ReplyDeleteBandelier makes many assumptions regarding the culture of the native Pueblo People. He guesses what they might have thought, felt and how they might have interacted with each other. I feel that many of his assumptions about people’s motivations, seem a bit Euro-American. His Pueblo Indians desire individual influence and power much in the same way as Europeans might do. He asserts that secrets among Pueblo are kept collectively, so perhaps ambitions too were collective and not individual as he describes? The spirituality is perhaps the most challenging concept for Bandelier. He seems locked in a struggle between a personal opinion of Indian beliefs being only superstition, and the idea of a rational but non-secular human mentality.
What seems to me most striking in this narrative is that Bandelier did not show us any strong personal bonds between humans. He believed that the clan structure did not allow a close intimate bond to form between the husband and wife, but he did not propose any believable alternatives. The characters seem to be more or less on their own with their troubles; the few friendships that are described seem very superficial and distant. The relationship between Say and Shotaye does not seem especially intimate despite the fact that they share a life-threatening secret. To Bandelier the idea of a family structure different from the contemporary Euro-American model seems almost unconceivable. He keeps pointing out the “coldness” of marital interactions and the fact that men did not own the houses. He mentions the existence of alternative loyalty bonds within the clans, but he fails to show it. Except for Topanashka’s concern for his daughter in the beginning chapters, we see little daily interactions between clan members. Of course there are mentions of the characters spending time with “their people” or in the ritual houses, still Say seems to be alone most of the time (waiting for her husband). She is an only child, but where are her friends, cousins and aunts? Is it ethnocentrism that prevents Bandelier from conceiving deep love and intimacy between people outside of the nuclear family?
I was very surprised at the accusations of witchcraft being so “European”, since it was a woman outside any of the ritual societies who was the accused. I expected, based on our earlier readings, that the “witch” would rather be a man in a position of power. Bandelier does not explain what unique qualities Pueblo witches (as opposed to the European idea of a witch) were supposed to have. If I had to point out any suspects based on articles we have read about other Pueblos, I would have picked Tyope and Koshare Naua. The conspiracy against the ritual order and balance of the society in order to gain personal power, is what I understood motivations of such “witch” might be.
The ritual societies, such as the Cuirane and the Koshare, are presented as quite powerful within the tribe. Their ritual significance is enormous as Hayoue summarized while talking to Zashue: “I am Cuirana, You are Koshare. I pray and fast for the growing corn, you do the same for the ripening of the grain. It will be well.” (p. 435) As long as these parties do their equal share of the ritual work for the Shiuana, the society is balanced and fertility of the land granted. Such work is described as conducted mainly through self-sacrifice, especially in the case of the caciques. Still, these important ritual positions also open opportunities for the ambitious and power-hungry people, such as Tyope, who may disturb the balance. The Koshare especially are presented as having almost infinite executive power, a power easily abused if held by the wrong people. The Cuirana society should probably represent a counterweight to the Koshare, but in Bandelier’s plot this balance is disturbed.
As to the question whether Bandelier’s imagined society can be understood as post-Chacoan, I believe that this is exactly what Bandelier might have intended. The unbalanced power struggle between the ritual societies may be a remnant of the elitist Chacoan times. At the same time there is a strong emphasis on communality and equality in the representation of the villager’s daily lives. Everyone seems to live in houses or caves of similar size, everyone works and there are no servants. The balance seems shaken only by the appropriation of uneven portion of the executive power and material wealth by the Tyope-dominated Koshare. It is all the time made clear that such elitism is neither desirable nor normative for the general public and in the end Tyope’s selfish intrigues do bring disaster to the tribe.
I cannot help feeling that Bandelier blended ideas of Victorian morality into the plot? Shotaye, our independent and promiscuous witch, becomes in the end a “tamed” housewife of Cayamo. Say, who after all did engage in “black magic”, must for some reason die (why not during the battle?). At the same time I wonder about the final developments in the book. The tribe was defeated and dispersed; does this mean that the “owl-feather-magic” worked (against the power-hungry Koshare) or that Tyope’s egoistic “witchcraft” itself caused this? Despite the fact that Bandelier constantly dismisses the native “superstition”, did he try to make the story more “native” by actually punishing the guilty of excessive individualism?
Paulina N. Dudzinska
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteBandelier’s The Delight Makers demonstrates the multiplicity of layers within a novel that attempts to use an ethnographic imagination to develop a narrative of the “prehistoric.” Nonetheless, the disadvantage of having to rely heavily on the imagination, which has been developed within certain social contexts and structures, often leads to ethnocentric perceptions apparent in various instances of Bandelier’s work. To an extent, Okoya’s initial distrust of his mother parallels Bandelier’s attempt at revealing truth in this work of fiction in that both deal with the concept of imagination. This is exemplified in Bandelier’s description of Okoya after having spoken to his uncle Hayoue regarding his suspicions of a conspiracy between his mother and the Koshare: “He saw clearly now how he had been led astray by mere imagination—to what sinister depths his reasoning had carried him” (Bandelier 194). Bandelier, though, would argue that much of his description of social structures and behavior are based on ethnological study, as opposed to mere imagination.
ReplyDeleteBandelier goes beyond formulating descriptions of culture, though, with the introduction of a plot in which the consciousness of individuals becomes a part of the novel, offering a perspective on the existence of exceptions and the presence of personal power struggles that manifest themselves in societal rivalries. An example of this is when Say Koitza panics in confronting the prospect of having the Koshare discover her use of the owl feathers and the black corn: “Any ordinary Indian woman would have concluded from the appearance and utterance of Say that she was hopelessly insane…Shotaye, although very much frightened, did not think of desertion, but only of relief” (113). This points to the important aspect of the exception within social structures, in which an individual acts as a transgression of the socially acceptable (or, perhaps, the socially expected), yet does not represent a contrary to society, since Shotaye still lives within the Queres tribe. Indeed, she lives, for the most part, a composed existence, until the accusations and conspiracies occur.
Bandelier makes use of the imagination that is necessary in attempting to present an ethnological look at a “prehistoric” group. Indeed, presenting it within the context of a novel allows for assumptions that, although not completely ‘factual,’ are reasonable interpretations of the few resources available. It is true that literature often offers truths regarding humanity, and that is what Bandelier has done, although not without flaws. Nevertheless, this work of fiction is a reasonable medium through which the exploration of the “prehistoric” is possible, since fiction does not have to be true in order to reveal truths.
-Michelle Rosales
While reading the Delight Makers, I caught myself smiling at subtle interactions that were conveyed within the story. To me, the most powerful element in a text is not its description but rather its ability to capture interaction. The power of language has always allowed for a person to describe “pretty” things but what is often missing in these beautiful pose is the life that it is trying to describe. It is one thing to describe something in detail and an entirely different thing to understand what subtle interactions mean. Thus, it was the social interaction between the characters that I found myself drawn to because I understood what it was they did because like them, I grew up in similar surroundings and in similar circumstances. As they say, I identified with it.
ReplyDeleteDespite what many may think, not much has changed from the past to the present. And while it is true that a culture – that indescribable and indefinable essence of a people – may, indeed, adapt and modify itself in response to the outside world, rarely does it ever truly change.
When people ask me what it was like to grow up on an Indian reservation, an immediate awkward noise escapes from me. A sort of inverted giggle. Not from my lips but rather from my whole body. It is a sound that is never intended to be rude. In fact, it has no intention whatsoever but, rather, is more akin to a reaction. For, although, the question may seem rather simple, in reality, it is an explicitly charged and loaded one – one that I am convinced cannot be truly answered in any meaningful way unless one has experienced it first hand.
This is not to say that I am or ever have been unwilling to try – I do quite readily - but one cannot help but feel burdened by the difficulty in trying to do so because words are only words and no matter how detailed a description may be or how dense the information that is trying to be conveyed is, ultimately, the life – that actual thing that gives movement and purpose to those words and information – can only be experience first hand. And the life on a reservation is something so unique that often times I cannot put it in words. It is a burden many Indians share.
For, how can I explain the simple fact that I grew up surrounded by my entire maternal side of my family, when people quickly interject, “Well what do you mean? You mean your grandmother and extended family lived with you? That’s not that uncommon. A lot of people experience that.”? And while this may indeed be true, what is lost in the context of my comment and their assumption is something radically different.
This simple comment – a comment that merely describes, on the surface, a sort of living arrangement – is the basis for life on the reservation. When I state that I lived with my entire maternal side of my family, what I mean is every family member within that side of my family (great-grandparents, grandparents, great aunts/uncles, aunts/uncles, first, second, and third cousins, etc) lived within a square mile of my home serving not only as family members but also neighbors and fellow voting members; that every person within that square mile was of blood relation; that not only did I live next to the living but also the dead.
“Wait…. Huh?”
Exactly. Not only did I live with a hundred and fifty relatives that spanned four generations but also countless known and unknown ancestors that spanned countless generations whom rest in the ground of our cemetery. So, for me to say that I lived amongst my family means so much more than simple words could ever attempt to say.
To complicate the scenario even more, imagine that there existed countless factions and cliques and alliances and feuds and partnerships between family members and family units that made decisions and actions daunting to say the least. Even the mere act of (or lack of) waving hi while driving past a family member was charged with subtle clues and messages that could determine responses when it came to a vote. So it is safe to say that anything more than that held even more complicated implications.
And this is 24/7. It never stops. It only intensifies as more are born and past grudges and past issues are scarred over by new ones and new shifts in the social structure of the family as new leadership and voting blocks change.
In Bandliers "The Delight Makers", he portrays witchcraft in the Native American community as a sort of human depravity, "hypocrisy", and "deception". When Okoya learned of his mother's possible stake in witchcraft he thought of her as almost a military threat or an enemy across potential war lines. Indians perceived witchcraft as the highest of evils and the most detestable among life and anyone who was a part of the legion witchery was an enemy of the state. Also, those that helped the alleged witches were just as a detestable. However, the accomplice could receive salvation if he testifies against the said witch in a court of law and proclaims that she is indeed a witch. However, with Okoya this was difficult for him as he had to wrap his mind around that his mother, Koitza, was a witch. He riddled himself with how he could and couldn't live with the fact that the woman that loved him and nurtured him had become a part of this evil inner circle. He didn't want to betray his own people by committing truancy in protecting his mother. However, he consulted an adult figure and he learned that his mother was not a part of an occult and that he had become deluded with the phobia and hatred in his village of the threat of witches. In this novel, clan affiliation were brought up as close encounters of the first kind. Often, the people that were suspected to witches hit close to home for many of the main characters often being a mother, female family member, or a girl that a guy had a crush on. These women were well integrated with society and were not hidden in deep, dark rocks under the Earth the walked about as a normal Indian women and girls. However, if one was see with one that was suspected to be a witch he was put to shame and ridiculed for such blatant association.
ReplyDeleteThe Koshare were involved in fasting and praying as a means of building religious and political strength. They used this method to defeat the great warrior, Topanashka to gain more political power. They also fasted for four days straight between two full moons in order for the "rain gods" to send rain to bless and nourish the land and crops in the village because they were experiencing somewhat of a drought. The diligence and steadfastness that they exemplified to the villagers built up a trust and faith in what the Koshare were capable of doing for the community and they rose to power as the leaders among a people.
I think that we should re-read this village section of the "Delight Makers" from a ethnological standpoint because that will allow as to gain a deeper understanding of the people of the village themselves. Seeing how their culture operated would help us comprehend later their political and religious structure. This ethnological viewpoint would give us a foundation to branch out and have a better perspective on the religious, political, and social views of the villagers.
-Shambreya Burrell
While true that this was a work of fiction and ethnography, to be taken as more truth than fiction, one cannot deny that it is an astounding work. The character development, even if it had truly been just a work of fiction, is fantastic. The characters have real lives and we are drawn into those lives. We see their emotions, feel them. Thus, I think Bandelier must be praised in several different respects: for creating these characters, for creating them with the help of material culture, for representing the daily life of a perhaps "post-Chacoan" society, for developing the relationships so that we understand the accusations of witchcraft, and a for a multitude of other things.
ReplyDeleteWe really get a sense of clan relationships from the beginning. It is apparent that everyone is quite closely linked, but that there is a real gender divide. One of the instances where we see, early on, how the families are linked together though is when the grandfather comes to talk to his daughter - to warn her, ostensibly. Men are tolerated because of their connection to the female members of society, but he still feels as though he should offer his daughter council. He, being technically outside her clan, has heard other things than she was probably able to have heard.
We see a great deal of social development, of differentiation between roles. The Koshare themselves are a bit scary, and it is apparent from the start that Okoya feels wary of their knowledge of him and of their involvement in his life. However, when he learns some facts about his mother and her alleged involvements he sides with his people and sees her as they see her.
Really, this is a worthwhile look into the psyche of a clan-driven mentality. It is also an artful portrayal of life within such a village. It is a new way of writing, something I would term even a new genre. This form is extremely effective, and Bandelier's text should be taken as an example by more people.
Ancestral Pueblo people in the “Delight Makers” possessed social dynamics that were not easily understood. Bandelier’s characters were devoted for the most part. The Koshare tribe shared religious and political power. However, the Koshare were slandered by Bandelier. Consider the example, “but it is quite likely that the toad has invented the whole story just in order to anger you, for he always finds time to sneak, to lounge, and to hatch lies, the lazy, good-for-nothing eavesdropper! I tell you what it is, that boy is fit for nothing but a Koshare, and a real good one will he become” (153). The Pueblo communities really depended on the Koshare and the author treated them as dishonest and self-centered members of society. Bandelier abused those who chose or were promised to work. The communication of Okoya and Hayoue is described as an “interview” (176). Witchcraft was an important issue that was handled seriously. The Queres people, for example, were very particular about witchcraft. Outward image and religious guidelines were to be carefully followed to avoid any association with witchcraft. The clans in the “Delight Makers” were unified and respected and devoted. The Indian family, namely the father, brother or husband fasted. “Whenever the Indian does penance it is because he has something heavy on his mind… Penitence, with the Indian, is akin to sacrifice; the body is tormented because the soul is beyond human reach. The fasting is done in order to render the body more accessible to the influence of the mind. Often, too, one fasts in order to weaken the body, in order to free the soul from its thralls and bring it into closer relation with the powers regarded as supernatural” (253).
ReplyDeleteEugene Abrazhevich
I found The Delight Makers both an absorbing story and impressively detailed examination of Pueblo society and culture. Bandelier's decision to focus on the Koshares is an interesting one, because in doing so, he both brings out the distinctive characteristics of Pueblo society, but also opens himself up to some of the criticism previous posts have mentioned with regards to imposing familiar Western narratives onto non-Western peoples. The story of those entrusted with spiritual positions developing strong political power within a society is certainly not a new one. However, the quality of the Koshares that makes them fairly unique--their amusing, "delight making" responsibilities--lends Bandelier's examination of their role and power a certain originality. Their stealthy inspection of Say Koitza's home to find evidence for witchcraft during the supposedly comical, ritual act of ransacking homes is an example of how political and spiritual forms of power can become inextricably linked, even in a society that appear to possess a lesser degree of political hierarchy. Despite the specific Pueblo setting, I was still reminded of the classic Western narrative of overly powerful priests growing corrupt and using their spiritual authority to gain power over the people who believe in their influence. In this way, some of Bandelier's depiction of the Koshare seemed almost akin to a pre-Reformation priest demanding indulgences from poor parishioners. Though his portrait of the Koshares is clearly much more nuanced and also illustrates their important, positive role in Pueblo society, I felt that Bandelier had difficulty at times escaping from Western concepts of how spiritual power interacts with societies.
ReplyDeleteLaura Schreiber
Accusations of witchcraft function not as the primary driver of political life within the village, but as an ever-present undercurrent that may at any point surge to the surface. People remain consistently on guard against its appearance and in search of its discovery. When it does arise, though, it is an absorbing phenomenon, and simply its possibility is the basis for intense ritual and public invasion into private lives (for example, the Koshare that enter Say’s home and rummage through her belongings in search of owl feathers). More day to day, or even large, political action seems to be motivated by individual ambitions and clan relations (take the reasons for calling the council together in Chapter X). However, witchcraft allows such intense public invasion into private lives, and could even mandate perhaps the most extreme political acts (in Shotaye’s case, auto-exile, and in Topanashka’s case, possible killing his only child); in all cases in a ritual context. Thus witchcraft serves not as the main, constant, and overt driver of the politics of the Pueblo, but as a consistent undercurrent that not only allows, but mandates, dire actions.
ReplyDeleteHowever, witchcraft is constant social force. While people do not acknowledge it immediately, and the wiser folks may be more reticent to entertain ideas of witchcraft (consider Okaya’s uncle’s reaction with the nephew suspects his mother of sorcery), it is apparently an essential social force. For example, Say is at first terrified of the prospect of her son going with Mitsha, and witchcraft serves as the social medium through which Shotaye’s deals with her own ostracized social position.
Clan affiliations and ritual societies are essential in both day-to-day negotiations and the building of religious and political power. The overlapping clan, religious, and kinship affiliations function in two very powerful ways. On the one hand, they bind the community together because husbands and wives can be of separate groups, forcing people of different affiliations to live together and interact. Only in this way can Say love her husband deeply even if she fears the Koshare, and perhaps it even allows her to be okay with the Koshare to a certain extent. The multiple communities of course serve as substrate for dividing as well, but the complexity of group affiliations creates a much more interwoven community structure. Secondly, the clan affiliations, but moreso ritual societies, prescribe very carefully how one is to act. This is most prevalent in chapter X when Toponashka rigidly enforces the rules of what talk he can and cannot hear, strictly limiting how ambitious the chief can be. Religious identities and roles function ritually, but also have practical political purposes for maintaining the correct group structure of the Queres settlement.
The society described in The Delight Makers must be viewed as the result of historical processes because the events described within the tale are historical themselves. The human interactions are political and social, based on both hierarchies and conflicts related to historically generated relations of kin and clan. Further, many of these conflicts and events precipitated from environmental effects—for example, the limitations of arable land and danger of landslides relating to the population growth of the Queres settlement. Consequently, a real enviro-socio-historical model is implicitly presented for the ancient Puebloans. But beyond this basic model, we can situate Bandelier’s story in the larger historical context of the pre-contact Southwest, which includes the rise, fall, and reaction to, what we may call the “Chacoan experiment.” Perhaps obviously by now, we should view the social structures of clans and Koshare and Cuirana not as original pieces of a society, but very purposeful reactions against a certain type of failed society.
More interesting, though, is the functional role of witchcraft within Pueblo society. On the face of it, as I wrote in my last post, witchcraft appeared to be a strange anomaly. Why would it ever be practiced when its results would almost certainly be disastrous? Bandalier’s account—combined with the idea of historical contingency—presents very plausible answers to this question. If we take the example of Say and Shotaye as reasonable examples of sorcery, then witchcraft arose, so it seems, as a taboo flip side of “positive” ritual (that of the Koshare bringing rain, for example) as a reaction to the Pueblo’s imperfect reaction to Chaco. Witchcraft continued at the personal level as a real force rather than simply a ghost story to teach children against ambition and dominance as a means for individuals or clans to subvert what they perceive as oppressive democracy. For example, out of all-too human interactions, Shotaye feeling wronged by a callous ex-husband, she turns to witchcraft. Just as the egalitarian Queres pueblo could be a reaction to the failure of hierarchical Chaco—complete with complex clan relations and rituals to enforce their social relations—witchcraft uses and subverts the mainstream purposes of clans and especially ritual to empower those disenfranchised by this particular political system. Certainly this description is only one account based on Shotaye’s example, and other interpretations could plausibly accompany—not exclude—my account. Witchcraft, as it is probably more commonly perceived by the people in The Delight Makers, is a means for the powerful to gain more power. However, if we look at who is trying to gain power and why, we realize that Pueblo witchcraft is not even as similar to, say, Salem witchcraft, even in the very limited ways I touched on in my last post. Rather, witchcraft—“invented” to deter the tyranny of a minority—can be a response to the tyranny of the majority. The Pueblo system, radically against Chaco, was yet imperfect, and perhaps witchcraft—tragically and often fruitlessly—allows minorities or excluded individuals a chance for respect.
Without getting too far ahead of myself, I propose that there could be modern analogues to this phenomenon. While I would have to explore these further, these could include Satan worshippers (perhaps obviously), or—maybe—the nihilism of disenfranchised urban youth (as described by Cornel West). Importantly, these instances are not of groups that consciously check out of the system, as in New Buffalo or perhaps post-Chacoan pueblos, but of people who adopt the very taboos of their society in order to—even if very unsuccessfully—to create a place in it.
Jason Patinkin
Bandelier wrote about making the truth about the Pueblo Indians more accessible and more acceptable. This book seems to transplant the reader into another world, however, it can be hard to remember that this is a novel, a piece of historical fiction, not an ethnographic essay, but it is the product of ethnographic and archaeological research. However, the Koshare provide an interesting focus in the novel. These clowns seems to be central to the lives that Bandelier had earlier studied and he seems to portray the Indian religious elitism that results from have such a group. The Koshare seemed to be feared because they subject people to the dominant group, are a source of public criticism, and censure behavior. However, the Koshare also seem to function as peacekeepers, as they re-enforce tradition and lessen the tension with community.
ReplyDeleteDivision seems to be a prevalent part of the Puebloan society as portrayed in the Delight Makers, while it may not be akin to the idea of the elites at Pueblo Bonito, there is a palpable division within the community. There is a division in the position of the Koshare as peacekeepers and bringers of fear through superstition. Fear can cause instability and volatility, but it can bring peace through the fear of being corrected, such as the charge of witchcraft. However, there is also division within the family. The family is rooted through the line of the mother, which causes a divide in the relationship with the family of the father. The society seems truly fragmented through the cultural division of so many separate groups. However, it does appear that while Bandelier did try to make the story of the koshare and the community they served more accessible, he infused the story with his own prejudices and influences.
Adolph Francis Alphonse Bandelier must be commended for having the wit and audacity to even attempt to relate the complex ethnographic tale of the Pueblo Queres people in a novel of near-Greek tragic relationships packaged as a popular historical romance. This Swiss born, Lewis Henry Morgan trained, American anthropologist spent eight years living immersed in the lives and language the Queres people in the 1880s & 90s, and The Delight Makers is the flower of his observations. He lived amongst the modern descendents of the prehistoric tribes about which he wrote, and came to believe that little of much significance had changed with them between the distant past and the late 19th century. Bandelier was eager to share his extraordinary insights with the world. As a result, The Delight Makers is equal parts press release, ethnography, thesis and novel.
ReplyDeleteThe world the author describes is dark, dangerous, inhospitable; filled with fear, suspicion and dissemblance. This egalitarian, non-hierarchical, acephalous society is run as an anarchic theocracy and ruled through intimidation by ritual group thugs. The roles of men and women are separate and clearly defined along traditional lines, clan memberships are determined through the mother, and women own their dwellings. These rough caves are dark, windowless, sooty, smelly and badly ventilated, and surely full of slithering and crawling things that love darkness. The overall atmosphere is thick with intrigue and deceit and heavily oppressive, yet lip service is paid to the exact opposite. There is a seemingly tacit understanding that the Koshare are loathed and feared by many if not most, but that the pretense of respect and admiration afforded them will be upheld. All is secrecy and subterfuge, and setting all in motion is the damaged male pride and lust for power of the traitor Tyope.
Accusations of witchcraft swirl around Say Koitza and Shotaye, because Shotaye had the nerve to walk out on her husband Tyope, brazenly living on her own and accepting the visits of men of the tribe who bring her feathers, plants, pretty pebbles. She cures her friend Say of an illness, and Tyope sees a way to simultaneously rid himself of his wife and Say, the daughter of his enemy, Topanashka, in one fell move. Disaster ensues, and, as usual, justice is not served, the wrong people die, good women suffer at the hands of worthless men, children lose parents, and the most guilty go unpunished. What else is new.
In his Fragments of an Anarchist Anthropology David Graeber writes:
“That institutions like the state, capitalism, racism and male dominance are not
inevitable; that it would be possible to have a world in which these things would not
exist, and that we’d all be better off as a result. To commit oneself to such a
principle is almost an act of faith, since how can one have certain knowledge of such
matters? It might possibly turn out that such a world is not possible. But one could also
make the argument that it’s this very unavailability of absolute knowledge
which makes a commitment to optimism a moral imperative: Since one cannot know a
radically better world is not possible, are we not betraying everyone by insisting on
continuing to justify, and reproduce, the mess we have today? And anyway, even if
we’re wrong, we might well get a lot closer.”
One can always hope.
Sylvia V.T. Calabrese
As much as I loved “The Delight Makers”, I chose not to go with the suggested prompt this week. Instead I would like to discuss a nugget of inspiration that I encountered while preparing for my second paper. I was reading In Search of Chaco and when reading Lynne Sebastian’s essay “Understanding Chacoan Society” I was struck by how speculative archaeology actually is. Toward the middle of the piece, Sebastian begins presenting two possible socio-political structures of Chaco: An egalitarian society deeply invested in religion versus a hierarchical society with unequal status and palatial luxury. Both theories have evidence to support them yet both are also lacking the definitive proof necessary for total corroboration. It appears that the two defining factors in this debate are political power versus religious and ritual power. Yes, religious power is inherently political, but it should be discussed as a different kind of politics.
ReplyDeleteNow for the evidence: Architectural discrepancy between the big elaborate houses accompanied by rich burials and small houses lacking fancy burial sites could indicate stratification of social status. The unity and overarching symbolism in the entire site indicate a centralized power for planning and control. Some argue that this evidence proves Chaco as being palatial and home to an elite royalty. Others believe that the site was strictly a religious center and that it was mostly empty except for religious festivals and ceremonies. What’s the verdict? Sebastian argues that it depends how we define the function of the Great Houses. If the large spaces were heavily populated, then the large community would require a strict political hierarchy in order to provide enough food and labor for survival. If the Great Houses were mostly empty and used for storage, then a much simpler, more ritualistic society would seem accurate.
I personally agree with Sebastian’s conclusion that regardless of how large the population, Chaco was intensely religious and ritualistic. If the priests were viewed as the highest members of society one could argue for a more egalitarian model where they served the common good. While I’d like to believe this, I personally think that the leaders of Chaco became corrupt politicians who were not inherently religious and did not serve the public. The sudden and seemingly deliberate decline of Chaco did not happen by coincidence and must have been caused by a corrupt system that ironically strayed too close to what we consider ideal. Unlike us, Native American culture believes in a unifying spirit that connects them with nature and separates itself from the materialism that accompanied all the great Western civilizations of the past. Unfortunately, I think that their commitment to moving away from the centralization of Chaco and back toward a regressed, more simplistic society is what made Amerindians so vulnerable to the invading Europeans.
Benjamin Velez
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ReplyDeleteThe social structures within The Delight Makers mirror Western social structures, particularly in the institutionalized intimidation of the Koshare and the targeting of women as witches to destroy their agency and power. This is perhaps a reflection of the author's understanding of gender relations in his own Western society during the period the novel was written.
ReplyDeleteAt first, there appears to be a real difference between sexually oppressive Western society and the egalitarian world of the Native American: everyone traces their lineage through the mother, a sign of a matriarchal society, and husbands are not privvy to the information and worries of their wives' clans. The women have their own interests and agency in this sense, and therefore their husbands do not own them.
As one reads on, however, the novel turns into a Salem-witch-trials-esque dystopian vision of an oppressive society run by an elite and even secretive group of men imbued with spiritual power. Women who show inclinations toward independence by performing "taboo" witchcraft threaten the all-male Koshare's monopoly on knowledge and power and are therefore to be harshly punished. It is no coincidence that the one female character instigating this transgression is a single woman with a free sex life, having separated from her husband. Women with too much agency had no place in The Delight Makers' world, according to the author, which demonstrates for me that the society depicted in the novel is definitively post-Chacoan, and tainted by the author's Western gender constructs.
Rachel Wagner
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ReplyDeleteIn the preface to Adolf F. Bandelier’s The Delight Makers, the author authenticates his narrative: “The plot is my own, but most of the scenes described I have witnessed” (xxiv). The rest, he claims, come from other ethnologists, the Native Americans themselves, and ancient Spanish sources that represent the Pueblos as they lived pre-European contact. Yet the social dynamics presented in the story seem too complicated not to be the figment of Bandelier’s overactive imagination; the fact that there is more truth than fiction in his “novel” wipes away all preconceived Western notions about the complexity of Puebloan society and its lack thereof. The structure of the Pueblo society presented in Bandelier’s Delight Makers is an intricately balanced web of religious, political, and familial/clan relations; Bandelier only tangles this web of personal and social interests by throwing in a cockroach-sized intra-village accusation of witchcraft.
ReplyDeleteThe social dynamics of the Pueblo village are most intricately interesting when examined in the context of one particular nuclear family—that of Say Koitza. The woman’s father Topanashka Tihua is the village “maseua, or head-war-chief of the tribe” (36). Although the tribe also has a civil governor, the maseua holds a superior office even in times of peace because he is more closely tied with the religious powers of the village: the Koshare. Say Koitza’s husband Zashue also happens to belong to this supremely powerful group. Despite her apparent ‘connections,’ Say Koitza knows that she faces death if it is discovered that she has been practicing witchcraft—yet she still does so. I found this scenario to be the most intriguing in the novel, as in our previous discussions of the treatment of witches who in particular were accused of sabotaging the village’s food supply I was never sure if the accusations were often false or what would drive these people to dabble in the dark arts for such a purpose in the first place. I found the answer Bandelier provides—that Say Koitza suffered from fevers during the rainy season and therefore used owl’s feather’s and black corn to keep the rain away inadvertently causing drought conditions—satisfying in a sad way.
Yet Bandelier again complicates the psychology behind witchcraft in my mind as Shotaye is finally presented as the unfeeling saboteur. She not only helps and even teaches Say Koitza how to stop the rains using black corn and owl’s feathers in the first place, but she is the one who allows for the devastating attack that proves to be the source of the final destruction of the village: “Great was the exultation of the woman when she saw the triumph of her new friends over her own people,” Bandelier relates (412). This eventually even becomes the cause of the Chaco-esque desertion of the Rito! As Bandelier describes it, the tribe “gradually emigrated from the Rito in various bands, which little by little, in course of time, built the villages inhabited by the Queres Indians of to-day” (436). Bandelier thus seems to offer two conflicting explanations of the nature of witchcraft accusations with his text; I can only assume that both the unfeeling and inadvertent saboteurs were given similar treatment.
-Jenny Johnson