The Powers of Genre: Interpreting Haya Oral Literature (Oxford Studies in Anthropological Linguistics, 22)

THE POWERS OF GENRE

OXFORD STUDIES IN ANTHROPOLOGICAL LINGUISTICS William Bright, General Editor

Editorial Board Wallace Chafe, University of California, Santa Barbara Rcgna Darnell, University of Western Ontario Paul Friedrich, University of Chicago Dell Hymes, University of Virginia Jane Hill, University of Arizona Stephen C. Levinson, Max Planck Institute, The Netherlands Joel Sherzer, University of Texas, Austin David J. Parkin, University of London Andrew Pawley, Australian National University Jef Verschucren, University of Antwerp

Volumes Published: 1 2

Guntcr Senft: Classificatory Particles in Kilivila Janis B. Nuckolls: Sounds Like Life: Sound-Symbolic Grammar, Performance, and Cognition in Pastaza Quechua 3 David B. Kroncnfeld: Plastic Glasses and Church Fathers: Semantic Extension from the Ethnoscience Tradition 4 Lyle Campbell: American Indian Languages: The Historical Linguistics of Native America 5 Chase Hensel: Telling Our Selves: Ethnicity and Discourse in Southwestern Alaska 6 Rosaleen Howard-Malverde (cd.): Creating Context in Andean Cultures 7 Charles L. Briggs (ed.): Disorderly Discourse: Narrative, Conflict, and Inequality 8 Anna Wicrzbicka: Understanding Cultures through Their Key Words: English, Russian, Polish, German, and Japanese 9 Gerrit J. van Enk and Lourens de Vnes: The Korowai of Irian jaya: I heir Language in Its Cultural Context 10 Peter Bakkcr: A Language of Our Own: The Genesis of Michif, the Mixed Cree-French Language of the Canadian Metis ] 1 Gunter Senft: Referring to Space: Studies in Austronesian and Papuan Languages 12 David McKmgiu: People, Countries, and the Rainbow Serpent: Systems of Classification Among the Lardil of Mornington Island 13 Penelope Gardner-Chloros, Robert B. Le Page, Andree Tabouret-Keller, and Gabrielle Varro (eds.): Vernacular Literacy Revisited 14 Steven Roger Fischer: Rongorongo, the Easter Island Script: History, Traditions, Text 15 Richard Feinberg: Oral Traditions of Anula: A Polynesian Outlier in the Solomon Islands 16 Bambi Schieffelin, Kathryn A. Woolard, and Paul V. Kroskrity (eds.): Language Ideologies: Practice and Theory 17 Susan U. Philips: Ideology in the Language of judges: How Judges Practice Law, Politics, and Courtroom Control 18 Spike Gildea: On Reconstructing Grammar: Comparative Cariban Morphosyntax 19 Lainc A. Berrnan: Speaking through the Silence: Narratives, Social Conventions, and Power in ]a.va 20 Cecil H. Brown: Lexical Acculturation in Native American Languages 21 James M. Wilce: Eloquence in Trouble: The Poetics and Politics of Complaint in Rural Bangladesh 22 Peter Seitel: The Powers of Genre: Interpreting Llaya Oral Literature

THE POWERS OF GENRE Interpreting Haya Oral Literature

PETER SEITEL

New York Oxford Oxford University Press 1999

Oxford University Press Oxford New York Athens Auckland Bangkok Bogota Buenos Aires Calcutta Cape Town Chennai Dar cs Salaam Delhi Florence Hong Kong Istanbul Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Mumbai Nairobi Paris Sao Paulo Singapore Taipei Tokyo Toronto Warsaw and associated companies in Berlin Ibadan

Copyright

1999 by Peter Seitel

Published by Oxford University Press, Inc. 198 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016 Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Oxford University Press. Library of Congress Catalogmg-m-Publicanon Data Seiiel, Peter. 1 he powers of genre : interpreting Llaya oral literature / Peter Seitel. p. cm. — (Oxford studies in anthropological linguistics : 22) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-19-511700-X 1. I laya (African people) — Folklore. 2. I-oik literature, Hay a — I hstory and criticism. 3. Oral tradition "-Tanzania. 4. Discourse analysis, Narrative—Tanzania. 5. I laya language History and criticism. I. Title. II. Series. CR356.72.n38 S43 1998 398.2'089'967827—dc21 98-47851

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY TEACHERS A GROUP THAT INCLUDES MANY TANZANIANS AND MANY LIBRARIANS AND ESPECIALLY RALPH RlNZLER.

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Preface A long time ago, when I was a graduate student at Penn studying with Kenny Goldstein, David Sapir, and Dell 1 lymes and working in the library, 1 once entertained an interesting request for assistance. It came from a man doing research on a Philadelphia inventor who had devised a perpetual motion machine, he said. Opening a leather portfolio, he showed me a schematic drawing of that machine. It had several figures with arrows connecting them. "This is the head," he said, "and this is the hand, and this is the heart." I nodded slowly. "You know," he said, "you have to live with this for a long time before you understand it." His words recur to me sometimes when I stand back from my own careful work. I also remember sitting in the bar at the Vatican City Hotel in Dar es Salaam in 1994, with my esteemed colleagues, Drs. Mulokozi and Kahigi, professors of language and literature at the University of Dar es Salaam. We were discussing oral literature and touched on the now-cooled controversy in ethnopoetic studies concerning the mode of definition of a "line" as the basic unit of analysis in oral narrative or poetry. Kahigi asked me to recount the dispute as I understood it, and 1 spoke about breath and silence as defining features on one hand and about adverbials and syntactic parallelism on the other. He was greatly amused. "I can't imagine how you can have a line in an oral tradition," he said. I begged him, "Hold that thought," and as the discussion continued we returned to it again and again. The Haya oral literature that appears later has no lines, although conventions of writing and the analytic methods based on them would seem to indicate that it does. What it really has is not lines but breath, voice, silence, parallelism, marked forms, fictional logic, and semantic contrasts performed all together, ense. I am a child of unbroken wilderness. My hair dulls any ra$yr. Hear! Spear of warriors

82—87. COMPOUND STAN/A of three couplets, each comprising an action-reaction sequence, formed in AAB. Couplets that depict prc-grecting exchanges and are marked by double verb constructions in their second lines (A'S: 82—83, 84—85) contrast with a hnal couplet that quotes the exchange of actual greetings (H: 86—87) 88-92. COMPOUND STANZA, 2 + 2 + 1, formed in AAB by semantic contrast between line pairs that request and refuse (A'S: 88-89, 90-91) and a single line that explains (B: 92). 92.1-95. STANZA in ABAB formed contrast between lines composed as "marry" + direct object (A'S: 92.1, 94) and lines composed as ". . . bring a gift" (B's: 93, 95). 99-101.2. COMPOUND STAN/A, 2 + 2 + 1 , formed in AAB by couplets (A'S: 99-100, 101-101.1) that cohere by parallelism and repetition contrasted with a final line that has a distinct composition (B: 101.2).

100

The Powers of Genre

llulila! Ichumu ly' eman^i Ljvitil' omu mbuga."

104

Ahi, "Tata wanshwela Byabantu." Nkakunda namushwela.

105

Namwalika ebilo binai.

106

Ekya katanu enyailiya yayaluka. Ekya mukaga nkaba mufumbasile . . . Mpulil' engom' ezayema Nsheshe. MpuliF ezayema Kailongo.

107 108 109

Mpulil' eza Luhunga.

110

MpuliF eza Mugajwaale.

Ill

Mpulil' eza Kakolonto na Kabwenge.

112

Mpulil' ezayema omu bitalaaka by' eilungu.

113

Nkaba mufumbasile, nagalama. Ahi, "Mushaija wange wabaki?"

114

"Nahulila engoma zagamba: Ezayema Nsheshe,

115 116

Ezajuga,

117

Zanjuga omu nda." Ahi, "Natabaalakwo.

118

Mukazi wange, onkol' entanda."

119

"Entanda nkol' eya? Tinashweilwe kitende na mpambo."

120 121

"Ogende ose obulo." Ahi, "Waitu bwalagalwamu enseiso."

122 123

"Ogye onyihile ekilai kyange."

124

107. On the fifth: the custom is to seclude an already married woman for only four days. 108—150. In this episode the warrior receives a call to uphold the ethics of his social standing by acting with its virtues. lie must choose between his king and his dream-sent wife. The call episode provides a thematic paradigm that structures most of the action depicted in this epic. Ethical knowledge associated with particular institutions motivates and is articulated by events. The warrior's self-knowledge makes his body reverberate with the king's drummed summons (117.1). With wifely knowledge Nyakaandalo tries to keep him home, he suspects (136.1). The status of the couple's union outside clan is underlined by Nyakaandalo's lack of "storage sack and seeds" (121), which a clan sanctioned bride brings to a new home, and by the symmetry of their address, "dear one" answered by "yes, dear one" (146). These arc the thematic building blocks: —two kinds of knowledge: of self (okiv'-emarya), which binds one to to the ethics of a social role; and that of other (aku-manya), with which one transforms and manipulates. —institutional bases for knowledge: state, clan, and a romantic place outside of clan. —richly symbolic speech: symmetrical endearments and poetic praise; —richly symbolic extra-linguistic codes. —bodies inscribed with institutional meanings.

Kachmnyanja

101

Hear! Spear of warriors That kills on open ground. "

She said, "Father, you have married me, Wealth-of-the-people." I obliged, I married her. I secluded her four days. On the fifth the already married one emerged. On the sixth I had embraced her . . . I hear drums that stand at Nsheshe. I hear those that stand at Kailongo. I hear those of Luhunga. I hear those of Mugajwaale. I hear those of Kakoronto and Kabwenge. I hear those that: stand in unbroken wilderness. 1 had embraced her lying on my back. She said, "My husband, what is it?" "I hear drums speak. Those that stand at: Nsheshe, Those that roar, They roar within me." He said, "I must go to war. My wife, make up provisions." "Provisions of what sort? I did not come in marriage with a storage sack and seeds." "Please go and grind some millet." She said, "My lord, the grinding stone has dropped into it." "Go dig my large white yam for me."

These thematic dimensions appear in most episodes, creating overarching patterns of significance in the work as a whole. 108—113. S'l'AN'/.A formed alternately in AAAAAB by contrast between lines that end with a place name (A'S: 108—112) and a single line that ends with a place description (B: 113) and in AABBBA by contrast between lines that contain a relative verb (A'S: 108, 109, 113) and lines that substitute a possessive particle for it (li's: 110, 111, 1 12). 114.1-118. COMPOUND STAN/.A in ABA. Couplets of independent clauses (A'S: 114.1-115,117.1-118) contrast with a couplet of relative verbs phrases (B: 116-117); the passage can also be seen as an annular structure ABCCBA: locutivc + quoted speech (114.1)/ [drum] + verb (115)/ relative verb (116)/relative verb (117)/ [drum] + verb (117.1)/ locutivc + quoted speech (118). 119-136.1. COMPOUND STANZA in AAAAAAAB formed by contrast between exchanges initiated by the warrior (A'S: 119-121, 122-123, 124-125.1, 126-127, 128-130, 131-132, 133-135) and a single exchange initiated by his wife (B: 136—136.1).

102

The Powers of Genre

"Eky' olugulu kyaraalwa entole. Nashanga cky' okuzimu olwazi Iwabamba."

125

"Ogende ogye onyihilc ekongo." "Waitu ebigenge natuma," "Mpelcza obutai bwange." "Lugaba obugunga bwatemwa empanami." "Obwo ompelezc nteho ekyai. Mpeleza eichumu." Ad, "Olubango Iwabungwa." "Ompelezc Lugaba . . . Mpelcza ekilele kyangc ekyo."

126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134

"Waitu kyakwatwamu olububi.

135

Oyoshe! Byona byona byashula amahano." "Iwe mukazi, wantckaho ak' enyailiya."

136

Oiva Nsheshe Kailongo, Luhunga aluga Mugajivaale, Kakolonto aluga Kabwenge. Mivaana w' elritalaaka by' eilungu.

137 138 \ 39

Ati, "Ompeleze. . ." Nkahulila ekishuniko yaihyaho yakikanjula. Yamuheleza obuta. Yataho akai.

140 141

Kanatulukile omu ilembo, "Muka^iwa nkwebugile:

142 143

Manli nkusbweile juba 'nye, Maba nyina engonsi n' olushusho. Eibala lyawe tinkalyatwile Nonyetaonyela, 'V>aaba,' ninkiveta, 'Baaba inya.'

144 145 146

Agokba nolima, .Akababi kakakugiva omu maishorm, Obi, 'Kalaba ataita yasbonga.'

147 148 149

Natabaala Mbogo. "

150

Kayagobile omu Lugongo,

151

141.2. Banana bast makes a poor bowstring, and its use seems to express the warrior's determination to answer the call at any cost, even if he must go poorly equipped. The same banana bast on i.tttlcman's bow (166.6) is a sign of low status. 148. The leaf seems to be death omen, but it seems the warrior thinks only of triumph. 149. First strike: When a hunting party kills a large animal, two hunters are rewarded with spe-

Kachivenjanja

103

"The leafy stems outside are eaten by bugs. I found the root inside blocked off by solid rock." "Go dig for me enkongo yams." "My lord, I've cut and piled only rotten chunks." "Hand me my bow." "Provider, its string's been cut by rats." "Hand it to me. I'll use banana bast. Hand me my spear." She said, "Its shaft's been eaten away." "Please hand me, Provider . . . Hand me that calabash of mine." "My lord, it's been taken over by a spider. Don't go! All, all signs foretell unnatural wonders." "You, wife—you show experience in marriage." I \e of Nsheshe and Kailongo, in ~Liihunga he comes from Mugajwaaic, In Kakolonto he comes from Kabwenge. Child of unbroken wilderness.

He said, "Hand me . . . I heard him break off a piece of cooked porridge and chew it. She handed him his bow. He strung it with banana bast. When he left the forecourt, "My wife, I would recite my praise to you: For I married you but a few days ago, And I have love for you and long to sec your face. Your name I have not yet pronounced. You call me, 'Dear one'; J answer, 'Yes, dear one.' When in your strength you cultivate, If a small leaf should fall before you, Say this: 'If he did not make the first strike, surely he made the kill.' 1 go to war, the Buffalo. "

When he reached Lugongo field,

cial portions, the one who makes the first strike and the one who strikes attcr htm and makes the kill certain. The warrior's self-praise recitation creates poetic associations between hunting, war, praise, and reward that will reverberate throughout the epic. 144—146.1. STAN/A ill AABA. Lines whose positive verbs occur in unmarked word order (A'S: 144, 145, 146.1) contrast with a line whose negative verb markedly follows its direct object (H: 146).

104

The Powers of Genre

Yakwata Kashalala Lutenge. Omu Lugongo ashanga emanzi zona.

152 153

Engabo, waitu, ikaba ikwataine. Yakunda yaishomoza.

154

Akab' aliho omushaija ndigonza kunywaana.

155

Ati, "Enshongole malama!" Ahi, "Wagwa, 'Enshongole malama!'"

156

Ahi, "Bwanyu bwakya bwolo!" Ahi, "Milembe, naimuka eli milembe." Yaishomoza Mbogo.

157 158

Yamwita yamwegamba. O\va kabili yamwegamba. Owa kashatu yamwegamba.

159 160 161

Owa kana yamushuntamila bwoli.

162

Kayaimukile,

163

Yatamu etaaba. Yatamu yakola omutana gw' emwani. Yaimuka kulwana Mbogo.

164

Akaba alimu akashaija. Akashaija kashumikize olubugu.

165

Obuta bwa wenene kitatelante,

166

Manti kabuleegize ekyai. Kakunda kamweta. "Iwe mushaija alikwela iwe!

167 168

Kihanja kolaba otali Muhinda, Olakuniln/a Kabale oli Munkango.

169

155.1-157. In this interchange, the first and last quoted lines (155.1,157) are spoken by the enemy warrior, the middle two (156—156.1) by the hero. Kachwcnyanja rejects the desired blood brotherhood (155), a kin-baaed bond so markedly respected by the clan hero in Ruki^a (96—98.1). Kachwenyanja receives the very same deference in greeting he bestowed upon his bride-to-be (86) and his long (67), but he twists the salutation to an insult and hurls it back. Unlike his enemy, the hero has cast aside all kin-like caring on the battlefield. 162. The warrior sits upon an enemy corpse as one would a stool in an act of personal display, lie elevates himself for special notice through another's death. Thus begins a scries of meaningful exchanges wrought with human bodies, like the mutilations in Rtiki^a (126, 132.1). 164.1-166.1. Little man, aka-shai/a, is derived from omu-shaija, "man." The little man is poorly dressed, poorly equipped, and of meagre stature. But he is unexpectedly dangerous, like the similarly described clansmen in Rxki^a (24—34.1). 155.1-157, STANZA in AB13A formed contrast between the friendly greetings of the enemy warrior (A'S: 155.1, 157) and the antagonistic replies of the hero (B'S: 156, 156.1).

Kachwenyanja

105

He took the road to Lutenge in K.ashalala. In Lugongo he finds all the warriors. Their shields, my lord, they'd walled together. He obliged. He taunted one out. The man there wanted blood brotherhood with him. He said, "Long life to the Fearless one!" He said, "You've already fallen, 'Long life to the Fearless one!'" He said, "The sun arose on your misfortune!" He said, "In peace, I awoke in peace." He taunted one out, the Buffalo. He killed, he boasted of him. The second, he boasted of him. The third, he boasted of him. The fourth, he sat down upon. When he stood up, He used his tobacco. He used his packet: of coffee berries. He stood up to fight, the Buffalo. At that place, there was a little man. The little man had tied a cloak ol barkcloth on. His bow, a Hits-not-cattle plant, And he'd strung it with banana bast. He obliged and called out to him. "You man, the light-skinned one, you! In Kihanja if you are not a Hindu, You 'II be honored in Kabale as a NLunkangp.

159-162. STANZA in AAAB formed by contrast between lines that end in "boasted of him" (A'S: 159, 160, 161) and one line that ends in "sat down upon him" (B: 162). 163-164. STAN/.A in ABUA formed by contrast between lines whose verb is "to get up" (A'S: 163, 164) and lines whose verb is "he used" (B's: 163.1 163.2). 164.1-166.1. STAN/.A in AABA formed by contrast between between lines whose verbs have the same subject (A'S: 164.1, 165, 166.1) and a line that has no verb (B: 166). 168-172. Two STAN/AS in ABB formed, respectively, by lines composed as place name + verb "to be" + clan name (li's: 169, 169.1) contrasted with a line of address that begins and ends with "you" (A: 168), and by duplicate lines with initial subjunctive verbs (B'S: 171, 172) contrasted with a single line with an initial future indicative verb that has subjunctive force (A: 170). 144—173. VERSK PASSAGI'. of four sets of line groups, each finalized by a single line formula, initial verb + praise name. The passage is formed in AAAB by sets of two line groups + a formu-

106

The Powers of Genre

Olandugila omu buta. Oleke ntakuzaalila amahano. Oleke ntakuzaalila amahano."

170 171 172

Yayanga F^chumu ly' eman^L

173

Kagya kaguhongolola. Kamuchumita omu ibele.

174 175

Akaba all manzi Kachwenyanja.

176

Yagunyukula yagwenyunya! Ahi, "Bahincla nalibw' embwa.

177

Mulcke ngye nteme akashaija."

178

Kayagilc kutema akashaija Kachwenyanja, Katema ebikya. Byalagala.

179 180

Kamwitila omu bilikwela. Kamuzilinga omu miyonga eikwilagula. Kamwitila omu bilikwela.

181 182 183

Kamuzilinga omu miyonga ekwilagula. Omuhamba katema ogwa bulyo. Nkabon' ez' omuganguzi akola. Weyeyeyeye

184 185

Mbali yalugile enyurna Omukazi ain' omwaana. Mukaziwe aina Nshekel' okunianya. Nti, "Maawe obumanyi bukuli omu nda."

186 187 188

Ahi, "Chwekela omushaija wange.

189

Agenzile Lugongo."

laic line with the praiscnamc "buffalo" (A'S: 144-146.1 + 147-149 + 150; 151-154 + 155-157 + 158; 159-162 + 163-163.1+ 164) contrasted with set of three line groups + a formulaic line with the praiscnamc "spear of warriors" (B: 164.1-166.1 + 167-169.1 + 170-172 + 173). 170-171. The little man's words arc weak, like that of the would-be blood brother (155.1). They express clan values of caring and reproduction, a weak response to the state warrior's act of self display and to the clansmen's deaths, which call for vengeance. 181—182. Movement from white to black underscores the hero's dishonor. The lines echo his self-praise (55-56), which, like his recent boast (177-180), has been reversed. 184. The taking of the "right hand," or penis, is a mutilation that answers the hero's use of enemy dead for self-display and inscribes (reproductive) weakness on the warrior's body. 184, 184.1. A Muhamba is a native of Kihanja kingdom. Buganguzi is a village in Ihangiro kingdom that is famous for the fierceness of its fighters. 187. The bard says "child," but the maidservant is a mu^ana, a female domestic slave or courte-

Kachwenyanja

107

Flee my bow. Let me not sire misfortune for you. Let me not sire misfortune for you." He refused, the Spear of warriors.

He's gone, he's let one fly. He's pierced his breast. The warrior he was, Kachwenyanja, He plucked it out; he sucked the wound! He said, "Hindas, I've been bitten by a dog. Just let me go and cut the litde man in two." When Kachwenyanja tried to cut the little man, The litde one cut his throat. It spilled out on the ground. He killed him on white earth. He rolled him in blackened grass. He killed him on white earth. He rolled him in blackened grass. The Muhamba cut his right hand off. I saw that deed the Muganguzi warriors do. Weyeyeyeye In that place he'd left behind His wife has a maidservant. His wife has I-laugh-knowingly. I answer, "Mother, knowledge is within." She said, "Go and receive my husband. He's gone to Lugongo."

san. One could become a mu^ana when a father died without male issue or sent: a daughter to the king as payment for a fine, for an allotment of land, or for food in time of famine. Although of low social status, courtesans were renowned for their mastery of verbal art and other stylized practices of the palace- A king might bestow a courtesan on a follower as a wife in reward for service, or as in this story, to serve domestically. A mu^ana was summoned and had to answer according to the whim of her superior; the verbal exchange might allude to a situation significant to the life at the court or at home. The bard assumes her point of view, answering in the first person (188.1), perhaps assuming the mantle of her verbal artistry. 174—176.1. STANZA in AABA formed by lines of double verb patterns in the near past tense (A'S: 174, 175, 176.1) contrasted with one line whose verb is inflected in the distant past (B: 176). 179-184.1. COMPOUND STANZA of four line paks, formed in ABBA by contrast between pairs that repeat "cut" (A'S: 179—180, 184—184.1; the latter pair includes an aside) and repeated pairs com posed as verb + preposition + color term (l)'s: 181-182, 183-183.1). 186-188.1. STANZA in AAAB. Narration (A'S: 186-188) is finalised by quoted discourse (B: 188.1).

108

The Powers of Genre

Yajunga omulamba. Yataho omulilo. Omutaana gw' emwani. . .

190

Kayaizile omu Lugongo, Abuganganwa Kabwengo. "Waitu waiyukayo!"

191 192 193

Ahi, "Waitu waiyukayo! Ndaga omushaija wange." "Waitu ali enyuma oku nafunya eminyago.

194 195 196

Lwona kalaba ataita, alaba yashonga." Agya abuganganwa Nkunzile.

197

Ahi, "Tata waihyukayo! Ndaga omushaijawa Mbogo. " Ati, "Ali enyuma nafunya eminyago." Ahi, "Kalaba ataita, alaba yashonga."

198 199

Nkulu mbi etwalwa mugenzi.

200

Agya abuganganwa Omuziba. Bailukile bamusigile ali enyuma.

201 202

Nashaimula empita. "Iwe mushaja waihyukayo!" Ahi, "Waiyukayo lugaba! Ndaga omushaija wange."

203 204 205

Ati, "Omushaija nashana ata?" "Aina amatalila aina n' empembwe.

206 207

On>a Nsheshe akaluga Kai/ongo, l^uhunga akaluga Mugajwaale, Oma Kakolonto na Kabwenge.

208 209

Ormvaana n>' ebitalaaka. by' eilungu. "

Ati, "Omushaija bamwita! Bamwitila omu bilikwcla. Bamuzilinga omu miyonga elikwilagula.

210 211

189.2-190. Banana mash, fire, berries: This is a display of knowing domesticity by Nyakaandalo. 196. Plunder of war: cattle and other livestock. 200. The proverb suggests kin arc not truthful, being afraid to bring disorder. 201. Muziba: a native of a northern kingdom of Mayaland. 189.2—190. STANZA in AAB by contrast between lines composed as initial verb + noun (direct

Kachwenyanja

109

She pressed out sweet banana mash. She brought fire for his pipe. A packet of coffee berries . . . When Nyakaandalo came to Lugongo, She met Kabwengo. "My lord, you've travelled far!" She said, "My lord, you've travelled far! Direct me to my husband." "My lady, he's there in the rear, herding the plunder. Be assured: If he did not make the first strike, surely he made the kill." She went further and met Nkunzile. She said, "Father, you've travelled far! Direct me to my husband, the Buffalo" He said, "He's in the rear herding plunder of war." He said,"If he did not make the first strike, surely he made the kill." Bad news is brought by a traveller. She went further and met a Muziba. They'd fled. He'd fallen behind. He wiped sweat from his face. "You, man, you've travelled far!" She said, "You've travelled far, Provider! Direct me to my husband." He said, "What does your husband look like?" "He has sideburns and a beard. He of Nsheshe came from Kailongo, In Ljthunga he came from Mugajwaale, He of Kakolonto and Kabwenge. A child of the unbroken wilderness. " [Stop to change recording tape] He said, "They have killed your husband! They killed him on white earth. They rolled him in blackened grass.

object) (A's: 189.2, 189.3) and a line composed as zero verb + noun (li: 190). 191—209.1. VERSE PASSAGE in AAB formed by contrast between two substantially similar line groups (A's: 191 196.1, 197 199.1) and one that begins similarly but ends differently (B: 200-209.1). 210—217. VERSE PASSAGE in ABAC formed by contrast between repeated couplets (A'S: 210—211.1, 214-215) and line groups that advance the narrative (B and C: 212-213, 216-217).

110

The Powers of Genre

Bamwita, bamwita.

212

Yaitwa akashaija kashumikile olubugu. Kamwitila omu bilikwela. Kamuzilinga omu miyonga elikwilagula. Omuhamba katema ogwa bulyo. Nabon' 02' Omuganguzi akola. Kayayanga kamwihyaho enshembe."

213 214 215 216 217

Ahi, "Ngilc ntai?" Endulu yatamu emoi.

218 219

Aba Lutenge olugulu tibahulila.

220

Ahi, "Bakama bange!" Ahi, "Nkas' obulo Abakazi bas' obulo, Bakama bange Ntula aha Iwazi, Ns' amalogo!" Ahi, "Bekola omubazi. Kilo ckya mb\venu nayekola Omwabya!

221 222 223

\-lulila! Ichumu ly' emansi,

226

Huhla! ]_jvitila omu mbuga, Nasglinga omu miyonga elikwilagula. "

227

Ahi, "Mwaana wange cntanda yata," Ahi, "N' emwani onage." Ahi, "Naganaga."

228 229 230

Ahi, "Naga. Enda yangila okwehoola." Xl/z, "Omushaija wange yafa all omoi,

231

224 225

232

Kyonka aligiiwalams' omwenda.

219. Wailed but once: a traditional wife would have wailed many more times. Lamentations announce death in a village and mark the arrival of each relative to the house of a family in mourning. The heroine once again acts outside of clan-guided practice. She has already begun to plan. 224. They "do" themselves: women use sweet smelling herbs in preparation for lovcmakmg. 226-227.1. The heroine pronounces the hero's praise (54-56), reclaiming it from its reversal in a narrative of dishonor and restoring it as a poetic invocation of his warrior ethic. 232—232.1. Nine: In constructing her own self-praise, the heroine chooses a number (omtventld) that puns on okiv-enda, "love." It is an abiding love, like that of a mother for her child or a wife for her husband. It is also a number frequently used in ritual. 221-223.3. COMPOUND STAN/A, 2 + 2 + 2, formed in AAU by contrast between two couplets composed as "my kings"/ ". . . grind millet" (A'S: 221-222, 223-223.1; lines reversed in second)

Kachwenyanja

111

They have killed him. They have killed him. Fie was killed by a little man whose cloak was barkdoth. He killed him on white earth. Fie rolled him in blackened grass. The Muhamba cut his right hand off. I saw that deed the Muganguxi warriors do. When it did not oblige he took lu.s penis for a trophy." She said, "What shall I do?" She wailed but once. The people of Lutenge up above could not hear her. She said, "My kings!" She said, "I ground millet Women grind millet, My kings But I sit at the rocky outcrop, I grind sorcery!" She said, "They 'do' themselves with herbs. But today I 'did' myself with the Destroyer! / lear! Spear of warriors, 11ear! Thai kills on open ground, He rolls them in blackened grass. " She said, "My child, break open the provisions," She said, "And the coffee berries scatter." She said, "Scatter, scatter!" She said, "Scatter. From inside me I am driven to revenge." She said, "My husband died as one, But he'// make nine go along.

and a couplet whose second hue concludes ". . . grind sorcery" (b: 223.2-223.3). 221—225. STAN/.A m AISAJS formed by adding another pair of lines to the previous figure (221—223.3), thus contrasting lines composed as "thcy"|women| + verb + unmarked direct object (A'S: 223, 224) with lines composed as ''!" + verb + marked direct object (B'S: 223.3, 225). 226—227.1. si'AN/.A in AAB lormed b\r contrast between lines that begin with the imperative "Hear!" (A'S: 226, 227) and a smsile line that does not (B: 227.1). 228—231.1. COMPOUND STAN'/.A, 2 -t- 'i + 1, formed in AAH by couplets with iocutivcs and with commanding verbs (subjunctive or imperative) that stand alone or follow their direct objects (A'S: 228—229, 230—231) contrasted with a single line that has a verb in the indicative snood and an unmarked word order of subject, verb, object (B: 231.1).

112

The Powers of Genre

Ontege ekishule.

233

Mbe mwisiki." Ahi, "Cheke maawe wakayukile. Oleke nkuteme enkogoto.

234 235

Okwate oluhimbo Iwawe Kalamaiio. "

236

Ati, "Ogesige kiizi,"

237

Ati, "Ogesige kiizi,"

238

Ati, "Empu zikukwate."

239

Ati, "Tugende Ihangiro kwehoola."

240

Ahi, "Yafa all omot. "

241

Ati, "Omushaija alitwalana n'omwenda."

242

Ahi, "Yafa all omot. Ihangiro agittvalanise ormvmda."

243

Kanagobile omu Lugongo,

244

Mbali omushaija bamwidile, Nahenda ekiti.

245 246

Nasiga nakimujugunyaho.

247

Nti, "Mushaija wange nasiga naziika.

Kyonka n>afa oli omoi, Ihangiro nsitivalanis' omivendai. "

248

Nakwata gumo omu Lugongo.

249

Nshangaho omushaija azemeile. Ahi, "Iwe mukazi nakushwela Byabantu." "Ekya mbele obanze onyebugile."

250 251

233-236. COMPOUND STAN/A, 2 + 2 + 1, formed in AAB by couplets composed semantic-ally as hairstyle/age group (A'S: 233-233.1, 234-235 with the order reversed in the latter) contraste with a single line that completes a style of self-presentation. 237-240. STANZA in AABA formed by contrast between lines with an initial verb (A'S: 237, 23 240) and a line with a final verb (u: 239). 244-247.1. COMPOUND STANZA, 2 + 2 + 1 , formed in AAB by couplets of narration that cohere as lines composed of adverbial clauses in the past perfect and lines with initial verbs, respectively (A'S: 244-245, 246-247) and a single line of quoted speech (li: 247.1). 228-248.1. VHRSi- PASSAGE in AUCBDB formed by contrast between paired lines of Nyakaandalo's praise (B'S: 232-232.1, 241-243.1, 248-248.1) and stanxas or compound stanxas that further the narrative (A: 228-231.1; c: 233-236, 237-240; D: 244-247.1). 249-283.1. VERSI-; PASSACK in AAAB formed by three repeated passages (A'S: 249-254, 255-260 261—267) and a single passage that shares some line types (268, 274, 276, 277) but furthers the

Kachivenjanja

113

Shave a line around my head. I'll be a young woman." She said, "No, Mother, you've matured. Let me cut a full circle. Take your walking staff the Prattling one." She She She She

said, "Rub butterfat on like water," said, "Rub butterfat on like water," said, "Enough t.o make your leather skirt cling." said, "We go to Ihangiro to take revenge."

She said, "He died as one. " She said, "The man will take along nine. "

[Interruption—bard adjusts calabash resonator] She said, "He died as one. In Ihangiro may he make nine go along. "

When I came to Lugongo, The place they killed my man, I broke off a twig. I cast it on him. I said, "My husband, I leave you buried. Although you died as one, In Ihangiro I'll make nine go with you. "

1 straightaway took the Lugongo road, I met a man there guarding cattle. He said, "Woman, 1—Wealth-oi-the-people—have married you." "Before that, begin: recite me your self-praise."

narrative (ll: 268-283.1). 233. Changes in hairstyle once marked changes in an individual's life cycle. Today only the bride's "crested crane" and shaving the head in mourning are widely practiced. 236. Prattling one: Katamaijo, a walking staff used on celebratory occasions, from oku-lamaija, "to say many words, to make many steps, almost to a frenxy" (See Mugasba'. 5.3). 237. Butterfat was traditionally used to make the skin glisten beautifully. 239. A leather skirt was a sign of prestige, showing access to cattle. 251. The women's courtly stratagem proceeds from manipulating feminine surfaces to using words tactically to identify the enemy and penetrate his home. Self-praise (ebj'cbugo), which began the epic, brought the heroine her mate, and foretold his death, again becomes a narrative focus as a tool of revelation. Suitors trv to increase their stature by praising animals they have killed in the hunt (a form of praise elaborated in the call sequence of the epic of Kiteke/e). But

114

The Powers of Genre

Ecyoo Ahi, "Nkaita akasa Nyamus' eilungu. " Ahi, "Lekelela aho naiwe twazilana." Nakwata omuhanda Kyandai. Nshanga omushaija azcmeile. "Iwe mukazi nakushwela." "Ekya mbele obanze onyebugile." "Nkaita embogo Kihembe Nyakatan^i. " Ad, "Olekelel' aho twazilana."

252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260

Nakwata omuhanda. Ngya ndalamila obugwa izooba. Kanogobile Nshamba ya Igabilo, Nshangaho omushaija azemeile. "Iwe mukazi Nakushwela Byabantu." Ati, "Ekya mbele banza onyebugile." "Nkaita enjoju Mukulu w' eilungu. " Nti, "Olekelel' aho twazilana."

261 262 263 264 265 266 267

Nalalamila obugya Kabale.

268

Kabale Ibangiro ni nyinsii. Aliyo Kabale ka Mwamaali, Omutaitiina wa Migongo. Tiguba mpuuta bakugwekomile enda.

269 270 271 272

Aho ente zataha bwoli. Mbuganganwa omushaija iyobobo. Akaba ashumikile olubugu. "Iwe mukazi nakushwela Byabantu." "Ekya mbele obanze onyebugile."

273 274 275 276 277

[Neigolo omu Lugongo ikwatame] Ahi, "Nyeigolo omu Lugongo, Naita omushaja nqyela, Ain' amatalila ainamu empembwe. F^ibala ni Kachwenyanja.

278 279 280 281 282

the women perform a symbolic sleight-of-hand by interpreting the named animals as though they had the kind of totemic significance that regulates and could prevent a marriage. Primary, marriage-regulating totems (nri^iro, "prohibitions") occasionally arc mentioned in self-praise, and secondary totems (inulumuna, "clan brothers") appear regularly. But killing a woman's clan's totem of either kind would never lead to a prohibition, as sharing the same primary totem could.

kacbivenjanja

115

Eeyoo He said, "/ killed an antelope, the Pulveriser of the wilderness. " She said, "Stop right there. We are prohibited." I took the Kyandai road. I meet a man guarding cattle. "Woman, I would marry you." "Before that, begin: recite me your self-praise." "1 killed a buffalo, dreaf curved horn, the Hanging-noose. " She said, "Stop right there. We arc prohibited." I took the road. I go. I sight the setting sun. When I arrived in Nshamba village of Igabilo, I meet a man there guarding cattle. "Woman, I—Wealth-of-the-people—have married you." She said, "Before that, begin: recite me your self-praise." "/ killed an elephant, lilder of the wilderness. " I said, "Stop right there. We are prohibited." I sighted the direction of Kabale. The Kabale's in Ibangiro kingdom are many. There is Kabale of Mivamaali, The Fearless Hunter of Migongo. It's not a belt that they can tie around the n/atst. By then the cattle were all returning. I meet a man. His cloak was barkcloth. "Woman, I—Wealth-of-the-people—have married you." "Before that, begin: recite me your self-praise." [false start] He said, "Yesterday at l^ugongo, I killed a man with fair skin. He had sideburns and he had a beard. His name is Kachwenyanja.

253. Pulverizer: from okit~sa, "to grind" as millet is ground; as an antelope's swift hooves grind the savannah dust. 270. Mwamaali is said to have been a man who lulled many, then committed suicide and became a possessing spirit. 272. It's not a belt is metaphorical praise of the road; it may look like a belt stretching off into the distance, but to travel it is another matter.

116

The Powers of Genre

Habuka! Ichumu ly' eman^i. Namwitila omu bilikwela. Namu^ilinga omu miyonga elikivilagula. "

283

"Hulila! Ichumu ly' emanzi. Iwe mushaija iwe."

284 285

Ahi, "Namwila namwikyaho embembe. " Ahi, "Mbwenu wanshwela \vambandashana."

286 287

Yakunda yanshwelakwo. Akanyalika cbilo bibili

288 289

Bibili binai.

290

Ekya katanu enyailiya yayaluka. Ahi, "Nakushwcla Byabantu."

291 292

Kayaboinc nayaluka. . . Ihangiro nomanya okwo banywa. . .

293 294

Nti, "Mushaija wange . . ." "Iwe mwisiki . . ." "Mushaija wange . . ." Ahi, "Yalenga kunyeba. Kil' eki nagonza kwchoola" Ahi, "Nagonza kwehoola."

295

297

Twagcnda omu mwata. Nak\vata n' omuhyo gwange

298 299

296

Nahyola Nalenga Engcmu yakumba. Omugogo nagukunula.

300

Akaba agenzile omu malwa.

301

282.1—283.1. The hnal appearance of this section of Kachwcnyanja's self-praise underlines again the importance of the poetic form to the plot. Similar words first declared the hero's identity to the heroine, winning her love and her hand in marriage. Their reversal in the depicted action (181-182) of the hero's death and dishonor calls the heroine to act (211-211.1, 214-415). She soon quotes the words, adding the virtues of his warrior identity to her own (226—227). As praise, the lines include the imperative "Hear!" (Hu/i/af), which indexes the generic addressee of such speech—the king or other person of high standing. Warriors had license to command attention and to promise deeds of valor that would gain royal reward. When Nyakaandalo quotes the words she seems to address them to the spirit of the dead hero, signifying that her relationship to him has become like that of a warrior to a king: she will perform fell deeds on his behalf. This analogy is confirmed in her brief address to his corpse, in which she makes a

Kachu'enyaya

117

Hail! Spear of warriors. 1 killed him on white earth. I rolled him in blackened grass. "

"Hear! Spear of warriors. You, man, it's you." He said, "I killed and took from him a trophy. "

She said, "Now you've married me and you've truly possessed me too." He obliged and married me. He secluded me two days And two make four. On the fifth the divorcee emerged. He said, "I—Wealth-of-the-people—have married you." When he saw I had emerged . . . In Ihangiro you know how they drink . . . I said, "My husband . . ." "You, young girl . . ." "My husband . . ." She said (within), "He's almost lost to me. This day I want revenge." She said (within), "I want revenge." We went out among the weeds (to cultivate). I took my knife. I sharpened it. I tried it. The banana tree fell with a single blow. From the stump ] removed the pith. He'd gone for beer.

promise that becomes her own self-praise (247.1—248.1). I [er boast, unlike the hero's, is not reversed. It completes the logic of its genre, being voiced both before and after its achievement. When Littlcman appropriates the hero's praise, he changes the imperative from "Hear!" to "Hail!" (Habukal), a word characteristically addressed to a king, but by his retinue, deferentially, to welcome him as he entered and took a position of preeminence. The substitution articulates Littleman's commoner, clan-based ethical knowledge. He evokes the regal identity of the fallen warrior, adding it to his own social persona with the intonation of a low-born clansman who has gladly slam his social superior. 287. Possessed: as a spirit does a medium, as a lover docs a lover. 300. Pith is the central part of a banana plant stalk, which is used as a washcloth.

118

The Powers of Genre

Yaija aganyoilc. Akaba ah muturm w' cnte.

302 303

Nakunda nanabisa amagulu.

304

Nafuka twalya. Namutaho amajuta.

305 306

Yanyaama bwoli. Nanyaama naniuhondcla. Narnwoleka ekimooma likrina amayengo nk' enyanja.

307 308 309

Amalemw' agamwihil' aho,

310

1

Olwo yashagailw ekigono, N amwimuky a Amalaka nakinda.

311 312

Olw' obwile bwakeile,

313

Nagambila abalurauna, "Ihangiro nikwo muganywa? (.)wange agenale omu malwa nyeigolo, N' enyungu y' ebitoke ndaile nayo. Kalabula mbwcnu mulankyamiliza."

314 315 316

Kanabaile ndiho Nyechula omulamu.

318

Omulamu yazinduka. Nti, "Mulumuna nkwaaganywa? Ngu yasiga bibili kwija."

319 320 321

Omulamu ahi, "Kanyimukc aha nataha." Kanabaile ndiho

322 323

317

304. Washed his feet: I Icr act embodies womanly care in its full extension. 308. The grasshopper is an ekimooma, which is brown at rest hut jumps and flies to reveal its magenta wings. This is praise for a depilated vulva and labia minora. 312.1. The slashed voice box is a statement in a discourse of violence that began with Kachwenyanja's killing of enemy soldiers and using one corpse to sit upon in self-display (162). f i e made the man into a stool, a tool to elevate ins position in an ethical system of individual recognition and reward. Little-man answered by killing the hero and and cutting the penis off his corpse. The symbolic aet articulates clan power to regulate reproduction. Nyakaandalo's way of finali/ing this dialogue asserls a power and knowledge that transcends the symbolic practices of state and clan. I ler severing ot the clansman's voice box (amalaka, "larynx." from the plural of eilaka, "voice") symbolically cuts off his power to speak, to praise himself, to be remembered, to attain the immortality conferred by rituali/cd speech. The destruction of the instrument of remembrance asserts the virtue of the bardic institution itself. She demonstrates this virtue in the very next episode by constructing a poetic memorial for her slain lover with the nameless

Kiichivenyanja

119

And he came home having drunk it. He was a cattle herder. I obliged; J washed his feet. I served out food; we ate. I rubbed him with oil. He lay completely down. I lay down, I followed him. I revealed to him the grasshopper That has waves like a lake. When languor carried him away, And he'd been ushered off by snoring, I raised him up. The voice box I slashed. When dawn arose, I said to his brothers, "In Ihangiro is this how you drink? My man went for beer yesterday, And I slept with the plantain pot. If he's still gone today, come look in on me.' While I was there I was surprised to see my sistcr-m-law. Sister-in-law paid rne a visit. I said, "Is this how your brother drinks? They say it'll be two days before he comes." Sister-in-law said, "I'll be going now." While I was there

corpses she has taken. The markedly gruesome acts build a violent, ethically meaningful exchange, a local thematic sequence that enhances the design of the entire epic. 316. Plantain pot: To preserve pots of < ooked plantains for the expected return of a husband was traditionally the act ol a dutiful and loving wife. 317. Come look in on: as one would with a sick friend or to maintain a friendship, but here with ambiguous intent. 304-309. Two STAN/.AS in AAB (304-306.1, 307-309) each beginning with a double verb formula; the first is formed in AAAB by contrast between lines with 1st person initial verbs (A's:304, 305 306) and a line with a 3rd person initial verb (b: 306.1); the second is formed in AAB by contrast between 1st person verb initial lines of narration (As: 307, 308) and a line of praise (li: 309). 307-353. VKRSK PASSAGli in AAB formed by lexical repetition and variation in passages in which men are killed and subsequent visits are made (A'S. 307—325, 326—343) and a final passage in which both men and a woman, are killed (344-353).

120

The Powers of Genre

Nyechula omulumuna bwaigolo. "Boojo olankyamiliza."

324 325

Nayala twanyaama. Nagya namwolcka ekimooma F-tkiina amayengo nk' enyanja.

326 327 328

Amalemw' agamwihil' aho, Agonasiga yashagalwa ekigono, Namwimukya. Amalaka nakinda.

329 330 331

Nshuba ngambila abalumuna bukeile, "Nikwo muganywa Ihangiro? Owange akagcnda ijo omu malwa. Bojo, enyungu 2' ebitoke zaba inai. Kalabula mbwenu mulatukyamiliza, Angili mutuleke—twataha. Tulimu abakazi babili."

332 333 334

Ahi, "Nangu otahangaalwa. Ihangiro tugila ebilalo Buligi. Atwetwe amailu g' cnyailiya. Alaba all Buligi bwa Mwoogo.

338 339 340 341

Kalaba atakuleteileyo nzaile, Angili takulemelweyo kimasha." "Kalabula mbwenu munkyamilize."

342 343

Bakunda baija bombili. Kil' ekyo, Yashuba omulamukazi yazinduka.

344 345 346

Olwo bamazile kwija, Ogu yanyaama na Nshekel' okumanya, Ogu lyanyaama na Kandaalo. Boona baboleka ekimooma.

347

Amalemw' agabaiP aho, Abashaija boona bashagalwa ekigono. Bamwihyaho. Amalaka bakinda. Bakwata omu mulyango omulamukazi,

335 336 337

348 349 350 351

552

324. Brother: a woman has a joking relationship with her husband's brother, and sex between

Kachivenyatya

121

I was surprised by his brother at dusk. "Come look in on me, child." I made the bed and we lay in it. I revealed to him the grasshopper That has waves like a lake. When languor carried him away, And I saw him ushered off by snoring, I raised him up. The voice box I slashed. Again I said to his brothers at dawn, "Is this how you drink in Ihangiro? My man went two days ago for beer. Child, the plantain pots are four. If he's still gone today, come look in on us, Or leave us alone—we'll go back. We are two women here." He said, "Don't be a bit concerned. In Ihangiro we have cow byres on Buligi island. He's ruled by desire for his divorcee. He's sure to be at Buligi of Mwoogo. If he doesn't bring you a cow that's calfed, He won't fail to bring you one for slaughter." "If he's still gone, today, come look in on me." They obliged and both came. On that clay, Again my sister-in-law paid a visit. When the brothers had come, One lay with I-laugh-knowingly, The other lay with Kandaalo. Both revealed to them the grasshopper. When there was languor, Both men were ushered off by snoring. They raised them up. Voice boxes they slashed. In the front room they seized the sister-in-law,

them, while not prescribed, is not regarded as ineest (as it would be with a husband's father).

122

The Powers of Genre

Na wenene amalaka bakinda.

353

Baihyayo obuta b\va Kachwcnyanja.

354

Baihyayo olw' cngiitu n' ebebo libyo yabaile atnwakile nshembe. Bagya baihyayo n' ekilele.

355 356 357

Omukazi kayaizile ornu Lugongo,

358

Mbali kamwitile,

359

Ati, "Oivo naisile mbele

360

Nikwo kunshdela,

361

Qkivo yanyihile omu bikiika by' eibanga. " Ati, "Omushaija wa kahili, "

362 363

Ahi, "Nisy ngon^i n' olusbusho. " Ad, "Omushaija ma kashatu,

364 365

Ibala 'lyonabatle ntakannvativile:

366

Nanyeta, 'Baal?a,' nimweta, 'baaba inya. Ati, "Omushaija wa kanai, Mivoyo gw' omnshaijawa Kacbwenyanja!"

367 368 369

Ati, "Omushanka^i wa katanu,

370

Kinyumanyumi ky' omushaija wange. " "Inyive baka^i baita abashaija, Mulangambila okwo muchula. "

371 372

Ahi,

373

"Waitu kaba nailagula, "

Ati, "Mujumbigiv' enjul' egmle. "

374

Ahi,

"Kaba nayela omubili, "

375

Ahi, '^Kagaaju k' olusa live la,

376

360. The epic's concluding commentary is framed as Nyakaandalo's address to the corpse of the royal warrior, it is her victorious self-praise (ebj'dnigo) spoken before her avenged lover, like one in which a victorious warrior might have asserted his identity before a king. Her soliloquy recounts her heroic accomplishments as a warrior might (360—370.1) and then add lines of women's traditional elegiac praise (371—379). Thematically the speech resolves principal oppositions that were introduced and partially resolved before. The opposition between clanstyle domesticity and an ideal, royal manner, expressed in terms of beer and wifely strategies, is locally resolved in favor of courtly ways. The thematic contrast is re-finalized in the heroine's speech by merging: she assumes two roles in honoring the hero—a courtly, royal warrior whose brave deeds honor the kmg-hkc hero and a wife whose intimate praise memorializes his beauty. The dramatic opposition between love and war, locally resolved in favor of war by the royal warrior, has been finally resolved by their combination in the courtesan's stratagem—making war by making love—and in the careful, poetic equation of the pieces of their short-lived love with the pieces of her revenge. Finally, the opposition between life and death in battle, between honor

\\achwenyanja

123

And slashed her voice box as well. They got Kachwenyanja's bow. They got his leather kilt and his cloak That he had taken with the trophy. They went and got his drinking calabash. When the woman came to Lugongo, The place that he had killed him, She said, "The one I killed first

Was for his courting of me, Was for how be carried me away from the foot of a mountain." She said, "The second man, " She said, 'Was for his love and his longing to see my face, " She said, "The third man, Names not yet pronounced: His calling to me, 'Dear one,' and my calling to him, 'Yes, Dear one.'" She said, "The fourth man, The soul of my husband, Kachivenyanja!" She said, "The fifth, The shadow of my husband. " "You women bereaved of men, "Tell me how you mourn. " She said, "If he is dark complexioned," She said, "Dark clouds after rain has fallen. " She said, "If he is light, " She said, 'M tan cow with large, white marks,

and dishonor, locally resolved in the death and dishonor wreaked upon the royal warrior, is transformed by her poetic speech to death with honor, combining enemy corpses heaped in tribute to his memory with praise: of his physical beauty and loving ways. With these syntheses of opposing themes and male and female voices, the bard achieves the immortalizing power of his craft. 370. The fifth victim: the bard sang Omushanka^i, which is not a [Taya word. It is apparently a combination of omushaija, "man," and nkazi, a female marker. It refers to the sister-in-law 354—357. STANZA in AABA. Lines comprising independent clauses composed as [. . .[ "they got out" + direct object (AS: 354, 355, 357) contrast with a line comprising a relative clause (B: 356). .360-370.1. STANZA 111 ABBABABBAUAB: Lines in a numbered sequence (A'S: 360, 363, 365, 36 370) contrast with aspects of the heroic couple's romantic love (n's: 364, 366—367, 369, 370.1). 373-376. STANZA in AUAB: Conditional clauses (A'S: 373, 375) contrast with images of prai (B's: 374, 376).

124

The Powers of Genre

F^nkukulu j' amasknke. Obwigamo biv' enjula, Obuhungo bn>' omushana.

377 378 379

Inye naita ekitaitwa. Naibim ekyo ntatake.

380 381

Naita omushatja atabaile.

382

Inywe aba Nsheshe na Kailongp. Hulila! Ninduga lhangiro kwehoola.

383 384

Omushaya wange akaja ali omoi, lhangiro nagitwalamsa omwendai."

385

380. lost: literally, "killed," i.e., "been bereaved of." 380-382. STANZA alternately in ABA formed by contrasts between lines composed as "I have lost" + noun phrase (A'S: 380, 382) and lines composed as "I have been robbed of" + noun phrase (B: 381); in AAB formed by contrast between lines composed as verb + substantive relative clause (A'S: 380, 381) and a line composed as verb + direct object + adjectival relative clause (B: 382).

Ktichwenyanja

125

s\ white haired plant. Shelter jrom the rain, Shade from the sun. ] have lost what must not be lost. I have been robbed of what cannot be spoken. I have lost my husband who went to war. You of Nsheshe and Katlon^o. Hear! I come from lhangiro with revenge. My husband died as one. But in lhangiro I tnade nine go with him.'

The following is my interpretation of the way compositional finalization is achieved in Kacbwenyanja. QUALIFY: How the hero and his heroic bride are married (1—104,2) Qualify: The hero and his present wives are described. (1—15) Call: A dream calls the hero to find a new wife. (16—29) Prepare: His wives reluctantly prepare his journey. (30—39) Travel: Hero travels, stopping for beer at the palace. (40—77.2) Engage (-): Hero meets and proposes to two women; one refuses and asks him to choose. He chooses her and she asks him to identify himself. (78-98.2) Reveal: He recites his self-praise. (99-104.1) Engage (+): She consents to marriage. (104.2) CALL: In a few days, drums sound. The hero must go. (105—118) PREPARE: Omens foretell disaster. (119-150) TRAVEL: The hero sets out and reaches the battlefield. (151-152) ENGAGE (-): How the hero is killed. (153-185) Call: The hero taunts enemy warriors. (153—158) Engage (-): The hero kills four enemy warriors. (159—164) Reveal: Littleman appears. (164.1—173) Engage (+): Littleman kills the hero. (174—183) Comment: Littleman takes the hero's penis as trophy. (184—185) REVEAL: How the heroine learns of the hero's death. (186-217) Qualify: A domestic servant is introduced. (186—188.1) Call:0 Prepare: Nyakaandalo prepares to receive the hero. (189—190) Engage (-): She asks returning warriors but they lie. (191—199.1) Reveal: She meets a stranger from another kingdom. (200—205)

126

The Powers of Genre

Engage (+): She learns the truth from him. (206—217) ENGAGK (+): How the heroine avenges the hero's death. (218-357) Call: Nyakaandalo responds with grief. (218-227.1) Prepare: She plans revenge and dresses. (228-243.1) Travel: She goes to enemy territory, pausing at the battlefield to honor the hero's corpse. (244—248.1) Engage (-): She receives proposals but the men's recited self-praise disqualifies them. (249—267) Reveal: Littleman's proposal reveals him; she accepts. (268—287) Engage (+): They marry and she murders him. She and her servant kill his siblings, then return. (288—357) COMMKNT: The heroine's soliloquy at the hero's grave. (358—385.1) The core of epic logic is the call, which motivates and ethically frames a protagonist's pursuit of a two-part confrontation. Muzee's performance of Kachwenyanja easily achieves the compositional finalization of a classic Haya epic. As illustrated in chapter 7 (in this volume), which contains a detailed exegesis of this ballad's theme, the bard greatly elaborates its compositional form by weaving into it that of another genre, the self-praise recitation. But that is a level of complication best left for that context. The bard does omit the call in the reveal segment. The predicted omen of the hero's death (line 148) never arrives. I believe the omission is purposeful: Nyakaandalo's devoted love motivates her quest to know. The interpretive power of genre is founded on the achievement of similar patterns of compositional finalization in a large number of texts. The epic ballad Ruki^a also involves an important woman and the death of a socially prominent man, but they act: on the ethical precepts of patrilmeal clans rather than those of the royal state. It is also widely known in Hayaland.

127

Ruki^a I begin to play the epic of Rukiza. Mugasha Ibibi. I am Mugasha, Justinian Mugasha. Listen to Ibibi. Listen to Mugasha. Listen, let me tell you. Be listening, let me tell you. Be listening, let me tell you.Let me tell you of Rukiza Mbibi, Splitter of tnukoni wood; it dries. Rukiza's father orphaned him still in the womb. I lis mother carried him within. He developed, Rukiza. Fie was born, the Muganga. He nursed and he was weaned, the Muganga. He played with the children. My friend, my friend, my friend, my friend, As he played with the children, Mbibi, As he grew, he began to think, "I'd like to go and see The cattle that my father left me and The place that they were pastured."

1

2 3

4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11

Coming to the fallow fields he found The fields pressed in And the cattle overstepped their bounds.

12

He turned homeward; he returned. He spoke to his mother. He said, "Mother I must emigrate. He said, "I found my cattle lack a proper pasture."

13

4.1. Mbibi is the name of the hero's mother or hts father's mother according to singers and many critics. The name often accompanies or substitutes for Rukr/.a's name. According to Cory and Ilartnoll (1945), it is the name of the (male) founder of the Baganga clan. 5. Mukoni wood is used in walking sticks (enkoni) and implies strength and violence. 7.2. Muganga (pi. Baeanea) is Rukixa's clan.

128

The Powers of Genre

His mother said, "You should not go before you've married, Ijong-lived-one" They were done; they made a marriage pact.

14 15

He married, the Muganga. When he had completed the marriage ceremonies, And when the wife had emerged from seclusion, the l^ong-lived-one, He said, "Mother, I spoke of emigrating." He said, "Let us emigrate and go." His mother refused.

16 17

He left her eight hundred cattle. Bulls, he left her one whole hundred.

18 19

He left her herders too. He emigrated, the Muganga of Ilundu.

20 21

He came with Baganga, And the Baganga were many, The Baganga of Ilundu.

22

With Honey-bee, a Muganga,

24

23

14. Long-lived-one: Nyakutununta, related to entununsi, a beating heart (see below, line 151), epithet for a living person who sustains and is sustained by family. The hero's identity takes shape within a web of kinship. We learn of his father, his mother, the other children of his lineage, and in another version, his grandfather as well. Kin attachments also introduce Mugasha (below, p.l 47), who, like Ruki/a in another version, miraculously speaks to his mother from inside her womb. This initial emphasis on kin contrasts with the opening of Kachwenyan/a (1—6), in which the hero is described territorially, using place names and descriptions. Divergent ways of qualifying heroes place them in disparate ethical spheres and create different expectations and rationales of action. Cattle appear within a matrix of kin: the hero inherits herds from his father—contrary to actual practice in the traditional liaya state. His concern for their needs in land and food echoes kinship principles, which regulated the distribution of these resources through the institution of the patrilineal clan. The king's ethics of cattle are portrayed quite differently (86) and are consonant with the structures of the state. 18. The symbolic combination of kin and cattle continues in Kuki/a's generous bequest to his mother and his continued care for the herds still in his charge. 24. Clansmen's names evoke aspects of home and family. Honey-bee (24) insect society represents domestic unity, as in a folktale in which bees rescue a woman who has been driven from her home by wild animals (Seitel 1980: 219-224). Elephant-grass (26), a type of bamboo, and yojwe grass (28.1) are used in house construction, the former in framing, the latter as periodically changed carpeting. The magical connection between person, house, and family later becomes central to the plot (149). Private family matters are revealed in Impotence (30.2), with his cohorts, Does-not-penetrate (30.1) and Water-of-yam-leaves (30), which is food eaten to stave off starvation. Proclaiming them as personal names seems a strategic

lluki^a

129

He departed Ilundu of Lukaile. With Elephant-grass Nyakilika, himself a Muganga, He departed Ilundu of Lukaile. My friend, my friend, With Yojwe grass Ilolwa and Stinging-flies of Buhunga, Herself a Muganga woman of Oundu,

25 26 27 28

He came with many Baganga. With Water-of-yam-leaves, With Does-not-penetrate, With Impotence, Themselves Baganga. They departed Ilundu of Lukaile. My friend, and with Water, Herself a Muganga woman of Ilundu, With Squash plant, a Muganga woman, He departed Ilundu of Lukaile.

29 30

My friend, my friend, He came to Karagwe. He found wilderness spread before him; He finds lions roar. He says, "I'll not build here Lest lions eat my catde." Pressing on, he migrated. In Ruhija in Kihanja He finds. . . Villages push against each other. He lacked a place to pasture cattle. He migrated on, Mbibi.

31 32 33 34 35

36 37 38

39 40 41

When he reached Ihangiro of Nkumbya,

form of self-presentation known as "making oneself small." Such a public stance implies that the speaker represents an unexpected but powerful threat to anyone who would contend with him. This is the posture of subjugated clans in a royal state, and it is also reflected in the figurative comment at the end of the epic, "Shoju grass sticks the foot when short./ When it grows, it thatches a house. . ."(202—202.1). Water (32) can likewise be a symbol of weakness, but can also be powerful (as in Mugasha); like clans, it is associated with agriculture and reproduction and is ubiquitous, a theme also articulated in concluding commentary (194—195). Squash plant (34) evokes associations of fertility and bodily desire (as in the ballad Kaiytila: 1.3) and seems another expression of unpretentious strength. 1 am unable to supply associations for Stinging flies (28.1). 41. Mbibi refers to Rukixa; see note to '1.1. Nkumbya is the founder of Ihangiro kingdom.

130

The Powers of Genre

He finds pastures unfold and multiply. My lord, my father,

42 43

When he reached Kabaale he inquired. He said, "By whom is this land ruled?" They said, "It's ruled by Ruhinda." Mounds-for-him-raised, the iUder, Spits in a bulls born, s\nd Semiroyai ones of Ihangiro wash all night,

44

45 46 47

He then took cattle. He then took four-and-four, eight bulls. He added two milking cows.

48 49

He said, "Go on my behalf, salute Ruhinda,

50

Mounds-for-him-raised.

Say, 'He has emigrated, Rukiza of Kilomba

51

LJon of the Muganga, Cures-others cures not himself? Say, 'He seeks a place to settle.'"

52 53

They came and they brought those -words. They greeted his presence with them and they spoke them truly.

54

He asked them, "Where is he?"

55

They said, "My lord, he is in Kabaale." He said, "Let him dwell at Kabaale in Mubunda. Be that place his for cutting banana leaves."

56 57

44.2. Ruhinda: The Bahinda dynasty ruled a majority of prccolonial Maya kingdoms. This King Ruhinda may represent Its founder in the kingdom of Ihangiro. 45. Mounds-for-him-raised is a praise name that refers to great amounts of royal tribute. 46—47. Spits . . . wash all night: This praise is said to represent adulation evoked by the king, as do mounds of tribute. Horns arc said to have been used as royal water vessels held by servants. Royal saliva would be protected to prevent its use by sorcerers. The sign of spitting conveys a status relationship here, as it does in Mu&asha (99), there with an insulting meaning. Semiroyai status (pbu-fuld) accrues to the meir.bers of a subclan that gives a bride to the king. Semiroyalty could practice forms of etiquette and self-display denied to commoners. 52. Cures-others cures not himself is a proverb used to praise the ethic of care embodied by Rukiza. It turns on the pun oku-ganga "to treat (for illness)" and Ba-ganga, the name of Hukiza's clan. Rukixa's name itself may be a pun on oku-ki^a "to cure or make well." 57. Cutting banana leaves is a metonym for domestic hfc based on the many homely uses the leaves serve—plates, platters, cups, cooking vessels, and others.

llukisy

131

My friend, drums sounded from the Calling-place.

58

People gathered.

59

He said, "Go, and return when you have built cow-byres And dwellings for the l^ong-lived-one" They came to Rukiza, Rukiza Mbibi. They constructed houses for the Long-lived-one. Cattle-byres they built. The work was done. When they happened to go and cast their eyes— One happened to go and cast his eyes—

60 61 62

63

He went and he saw Rukiza's sister. My friend, my friend, They traveled and they went, They reported to King Ruhinda. They said, "But at Rukiza's We saw a maiden— Perhaps his daughter Perhaps his sister— But she was not beautiful— Only as the sun!" King Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised, sent matchmakers. Rukiza addressed them, saying, "She is my sister.

64

65 66

67 68

If he wants to marry her, Let him furnish cattle. Let him furnish calabashes of beer: four-and-four, eight of them Let him present mead: two pots." They brought them to the luong-lived-one. He said, "Return and tell him this: Address him, say, 'Go and give four cows in milk. Return and present two steers. My friend, then you've made the bridal payment, then you've completed it.'" He made the bridal payment, he completed it.

69 70 71 72 73 74

58. Calling-place: lhangiro's royal drums were sounded at the ljubungo, literally, "dung heap," the same word used to describe the place of Rukiza's imaginary transgression (84). I am not sure how these closely juxtaposed uses are associated; perhaps they are as royal assets (manure and drum) that proclaim themselves from afar (by smell and sound). 66.4. Only as the sun! is a hyperbole that reveals the irony in the previous line. 70.1. Mead is beer made from honey. In requiring beer and cattle in bridcwcalth and then more beer for the prenuptial fete (kasikf) Rukiza enacts his status of clan patriarch.

132

The Powers of Genre

But he returned to this, Rukiza; He said, "When the moon is new, Let him bring beer, Four-and-four, eight calabashes." He said, "Let him present mead, Four-and-four, eight pots." He said, "Let them come and stay the night at the prenuptial fete. At sunrise let me come and bestow my sister And let him marry her, all you Baganga!" They went and they ripened it.

75

76 77

78

79

It fermented, and they brought it. They stayed the night at the prenuptial fete. The sun rose and he married her. It had been one year since the bride was married. My lord, my father, she emerged from her seclusion.

80 81

They came and accused him behind his back. They said, "But father, King Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised, Rukiza oversteps the bounds. Rukiza oversteps the bounds.

82

To show how he oversteps the bounds, Rukiza— Milk, he pours on the dungheap.

83 84

Butter, he plasters on the walls."

85

Ruhinda grew angry. He said, "And those, the ones my father left me! And father never poured milk on the dungheap. Butter, he never plastered on the walls."

86

He said, "Go sound the drum at the Calling-place." It spoke.

87 88

78—78.2. Rukiza's zeal in enacting clan-regulated wedding ceremonials represents the concerns of a clan patriarch. It is surpassed only by the careful preparation of a grotesque wedding party to arrange and complete a marriage in Mugasha (lines 121—124). Both heroes represent and defend the ethics of clan. 82—87. The actions Rukiza is wrongfully accused of offend royal ethics of cattle holding. His profligate acts deny symbolic, exchange, and use values of cattle and their products, which support patronage and, in some degree, the state itself. Note the ethical and linguistic parallelism: the (false) report of Rukiza's exceeding the bounds evokes the king's defense of the royal ethics of cattle ownership; while Rukiza's observation of cattle exceeding the bounds (12.2) evokes the patriarch's kin-like ethical concern for their welfare. Both are calls to action; they motivate and frame the events that follow

Ruki%a

133

He said, "Tomorrow seize them all, The long-horns and the spotted ones, The blacks and the grays."

89 90 91

My mother, my mother, One man went out from among them He traveled in the night. Before dawn, my lord, my lather, He found them milking. They were at the cattle fire.

92

The little man was poorly dressed, My lord, his leather cloak was badly tattered. His penis, he covered with his fingers. "You man, where are you going?" He said, "I'm going to see Rukrza." They said, "Rukiza has some tie with you?" "Rukiza is my blood brother." "A blood brotherhood! Where did you pledge it?" He said, "At Lukokwa and Lulambili."

94 95

93

96 97 98

They tried to think of what to do with him but couldn't. One among them left. He went and told Rukiza.

99

Rukiza had not yet risen. He slept with his wife Luhunge, Forbids-the-hafted-knije Arm that embraces undaunted warriors.

100

90—91. Long-horns, spotted ones . . . are part of an extensive set of terms for describing cattle. 93.2. Cattle fire is a campfirc whose smoke is used to fumigate the animals, reducing the number of their insect pests. '['his episode is the second part of epic's principal call. Ruki'/a grants the man's request to sec him, although the basis of his claim is never verified. I Its assertion of blood brotherhood—a voluntary, socially created form of kinship—is sufficient to touch the patriarch's ethical sense. In some versions of Rukixa, the man's presence is announced by laughter of children, for whom nakedness elicits amusement. As an instrument of the ethical appeal, children embody kinbased, clan ethics, as the drum that summons a warrior to a king's service embodies the royal state in Kachwenyanja. 99. Rukiza's clansmen cannot resolve the: contradiction between the man's apparent low status, which argues against letting him see Rukiza, and his claimed blood brotherhood, which argues for it. The patriarch upholds the precepts of kin without question. Note that Rukiza leaves the embrace of his praiseworthy wife to answer the call, as does the royal warrior in Kachtvayanja (108-118).

134

The Powers of Genre

My lord, my father, They told him. I le arose and he stood outside under the eaves. They brought water to wash and they left.

101

He said, "Quickly, go and bring him to me." When he saw him at the gateposts, He said, "Bring a leather kilt and cloak and dress him."

102

"You sir, how came you?" He said, "How to tell you, Father Rukiza?" lie said, "I left them saying you overstepped the bounds,"

104

He said, "saying butterfat, you plaster on walls. Milk, you pour on the dungheap. He said, "Ruhinda Mounds-for-bim-raised He said, "has ordered all the drums to sound."

103

105 106

Rukiza Mbibi

107

Took Water-of-yam-leaves, He said, "Go and set the shoju grass aflame." He said, "If he is a Muganga Let him grow today." He set the flames, my lord. Wherever fire passed, my lord,

108 109 110

The shoju grass was growing. My friend, he took Honey Bee, The Whiter, He said, "If you are a Muganga,"

111 112

He said, "If they strike you, bite them." He said, "If they flee you, buzz them, all you Baganga."

113

He took Water-of-yam-leaves and Docs-not-penetrate and Impotence, He said, "Surround them on each flank." He said, "Be it there you intercept the cattle of the Ijong-lived-one."

114 115 116

Cattle went to pasture and they returned. Himba appeared on the opposite river bank.

117

They watched the cattle descend. The invaders came to seize Rukiza's cattle.

118

108.1. Set the shoju grass aflame: After being burnt in seasonal fires that control vegetation on intervillage lands, shoju grass begins to grow again and pricks the foot (sec line 202). 117.1. Himba are clans whose occupational specialty is cattle herding. They are allied with ruling I Imda clans in several interlacustrine kingdoms.

Rnki^a

135

Sboju grass covered their legs. My friend, Honey Bees buzzed and killed them.

119

He himself stood on a hilltop, Mbibi.

120

When he put one arrow to the string, It killed four hundred and ninety-eight. The second killed three hundred and seventy-two. The fourth killed one hundred and five. And Water-of-yam-leaves' men were also killing.

121

There remained one man.

125

122 123 124

From that man he took an eye, He said, "Go and tell Ruhinda. Go and tell Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised Say, 'Send a few, and he'll kill them. When you send many, then •we'll fight!' All you Baganga!"

127

Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh

128

He went and he told Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised. Ruhinda sounded the drum at the Calling-place. They also returned, and they made drums speak, the men of the Long-lived-one. My lord, they truly made the spears and arrows fly.

129

126

130 131

There remained one. He cut off his hand. He said, "Go tell Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised, Say, 'Send a few, he'll kill them. When you send many, then we'll fight!' All you Baganga!"

132

They went and told Mounds-jor-bim-raised. One man stepped forward, an elder.

134

He said, "Oh king, do you wish to rule the land, Or do you wish to rule its people?"

135

133

118.1. Sboju grass covers their legs, lacerates them, and impedes their march. 125.1. Ruki/a's mutilation of the remaining royal warrior is a statement couched in a violent discourse of the body. Sparing the enemy's life, he inscribes him with a defiant message to the king. A similar message framed in the somatic discourse of clans, but seen from the opposite side of the battleground, appears reprehensible and ethically foreign in Kachmenyanja. 184—184.1, 216—217). 129.1—131. The king and the clan patriarch summon more troops. 135—135.1. The king's advisers at the court, the balarnata, were drawn from commoner clans. In clan-accented discourse here, as m 1 lava folktales, they appear as voices of moderation. Separati

136

The Powers of Genre

He said, "I wish to rule the land." lie said, "Then let Rukiza of Kilomba be, Lest he finish off the land And finally come and kill you as well."

136

He let him be, Ruhinda did, Mounds-for-him-raised. A year passed. The woman became pregnant.

138

She bore a child.

139

137

She bore a second child. A third child She bore—the royal heir.

140

That child, When he was weaned,

141

Ruhinda said, "Now tell me truthfully, my wife: That Rukiza, My men—how was he killing them?" The woman said, "Now, I would tell you," "But I refuse to tell, lest you kill Rukiza."

142 143 144 145

She said, "And on him who kills Rukiza, Before twilight of that day will I take revenge." He answered, "But we two have children, my wife. Rukiza—why would I kill him? Now that so many years have passed."

146 147

She said, "That Rukiza, Rukiza Mbibi, My friend, Rukiza's heart is in the roof peak of the house. The other is in the fire of die Spotted bull. The beating flesh alone dwells in Rukiza's breast."

148 149 150 151

the control of land from the control of people articulates a division between clan and state. The state is founded on the control of capital in land and cattle. Clans regulate behavior that maintains properly balanced relationships between groups of people, between living and dead, and between society and the natural environment. The advisers remind the king. 140. Kxogamy and patriliny can make women dangerous mediators of clan boundaries, as producers of children for potential rivals and conveyers of inside information that could bring harm to their clans. This concern appears here in a context defined by clan and state. 149—150. Ruktta's magical hearts arc located in places that proclaim the association of home, cattle, and body within the unity of clan. The roof peak of an old-style 1 laya house (msonge) is formed by the top of the central pillar of the round dwelling, the apex of its conical or onion-shaped roof. At the base of the pillar is the hearth and central living space, the most interior space in family life. Rukiza's heart lies at the core of family. His other magical heart lies in the cattle kraal in the fire that warms the herdsmen before sunrise (93.2) and keeps the cattle healthy and free of insect pests.

Ra/ki^a She said, "If they would let an arrow fly, And it fall into the roof peak of the house, And another fall into the fire of the Spotted bull Then Rukiza you have killed."

137 152 153

Women, women are betrayers.

154

When dawn's first rays appeared,

155

They opened chickens, and they found it's in the roof peak of the house. The other is in the fire of the Spotted bull. 156 My lord, my father, they augured hard.

157

They studied entrails and they found it's in the roof peak of the house. The other is in the fire of the Spotted bull. My lord, my father, he did not sound the drum. They sent the message by word of mouth, oh l^ong-lived-om.

158 159

He said, "You two, 160 Go, arrive there in the early morning before they've unlocked the doors. Let fly and let it fall into the fire of the Spotted bull, 161 The other let fall into the roof peak of the house." My friend, they came early. Behind them were many others. They let fly and it fell into the roof peak of the house.

162 163

The other fell into the fire of the Spotted bull. My friend, they stood at the fence. They called him.

164

When he did arise, Mbibi, My lord, and come into the hearth room, He collapsed and fell.

165 166

There, under the eaves, my father, with his bow, Putting arrow to string, Letting fly—

167 168

154. Betrayers: This proverbial statement articulates a male view of a result of the contradiction between exogamy and patriarchy. It is used as an aside here. 155-158. Augury was one of the duties performed by particular clans at court. Here chicken entrails are consulted. 159. The lung does not use the drum to summon his subjects lest Rukiza be warned by its roar. 166. In a version of this epic sung by the bard Kishwa, the clan patriarch recognises the imminence of his death and orders his followers: "Spread my leather cloak for me in the forecourt,/ Ix:st they pierce me and I spill out upon the ground./ Bring fresh milk for me,/ 1-cst they pierce me and I spill out blood." I le enriches the social and symbolic embodiment of nonroyal cattle ownership.

138

The Powers of Genre It did not reach the gateposts of the forecourt.

One standing there, my friend, at the gateposts of the forecourt Shooting an arrow—

169 170

My father, and it fell. My friend, it fell into his chest, It fell and severed his life serpent, My friend, and his heart it split.

172

Rukiza Mbibi collapsed and he fell.

173

His cattle they seized and they brought. They found those of king already pastured, already settled down.

174

171

The wife, my father, as she stood there, And happened to cast her eyes, Passing beyond the fence, She went and she saw the grays.

175

She did not cry a lot. She did not speak. She was still. She thought, "Truly, I spoke And the king killed my father's child."

176

177

She made the bed and she lay down. The moon had reached its fullest phase.

178

She thought, "Now . . ." She thought, "my husband . . . Rukiza . . .

179

Ruhinda, Mounds-for-him-raised—" She thought, "let me tell you—" She thought, "he killed my father's child."

180 181

171.1. The word for life serpent is enkorantima, which also refers to a black, poisonous snake. An individual's spiritual essence or soul is envisioned as a snake (en/oka), which is an agency of thought (Kitekek: 209) and desire (Kitekele. 210.1, Kaiyu/a: 284) and feeling (Kayulcr. 379). Snakes are associated with spirits and may be used as vehicles for praise of another (hfcbali Oluga: 38) or of oneself (Kaitaba: 496). A snake is born in each individual person, dwells within, motivates feeling and action, and dies with him or her or separates from the mortal body as an immortal spirit, according to some. It is often called lugondo "spotted one" (Kaiyula. 284, 383), which is the same word for "spotted bull." These meanings converge in Ri/ki%a (150, 153, 156, 158,161, 163) when the 'T'ire of the Spotted Bull" becomes the dwelling place for the hero's heart. 175.3. She saw the grays: Seeing Rukixa's cattle mixed in among the king's, the woman infers the events that brought them there. The cattle, like the woman herself, have become vehicles for information, public and private. Cattle and women move through society in symbolically rich exchanges of productive value. The virtues they embody can construct, alter, and ultimately destroy ties between social groups. The orbit of this woman's life, like Rukixa's, is defined by cattle.

Rukiza "Now I would go and would incise you magically. Come, rule Kihanja, Rule Zinzaland, Rule Karagwe.

139

182

And Bugabo w^ill you rule, and Kiziba."

183

He agreed Ruhinda, Mounds-jor-him-raised He walked out to the bath enclosure, \jong-lived-one. She cut him all over, on every segment. She said, "Lie back,

184 185

I would also cut you on the throat."

186

When he'd lain back His voice box she took from him whole. She slipped through the fence. She came to Rukiza's dwelling. She said, "How shall I tell them?"

187 188

She found him, Rukiza, not yet buried. They buried him the entire night. She said, "Wander, O Baganga." She said, "King Ruhinda murdered

189

My father's child. And I in revenge I left him murdered."

191

My friend, the Baganga wandered.

192

On the river, and today • . •

193

190

181.1. Kukixa's sister lures the king into a vulnerable position. She entices him with the magical means to rule more land. Her identity as a clanswoman has been reestablished by her brother's murder and her decision to pursue revenge through blood feud. Note that she influences the king through his desire for land, similar to the way the clan advisers (balamatd) influence him to stop sending men to their death (135). In a contrasting set of events, the widow of a state warrior lures clansmen to their doom through their desire not for land but for sexual pleasure (Kachnienyanja. 304). Seen through the clan eyes, kings are land hungry. Seen through the eyes of the state builders, clansmen arc ruled by base appetites for pleasure and reproduction (this is also an underlying theme in the ballad Mbali Qlugd). These ethical judgements seem to be based on conflicting institutional practices governing land tenure and marriage. 186.2. Voice box: Slashing or cutting out the larynx (amalaka, plural of eilaka—voice) seems to be a formulaic way of slitting the throat. See Kachivenyarya: 312.1, 331.1, 351.1, 353. 188. This rhetorical quandary about bringing bad news echoes the words of the near-naked messenger to Rukiza (104.1). 189—191.1. Rukixa's sister made good her promise to exact revenge before sunset on the day of his death (146—146.1). The Baganga engage in ritual lamentation all night.

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There's no place where the sboju grass won't grow, And still it wanders, All you Baganga. There's no place where the elephant-grass won't dwell And still it wanders. Honey-bees, And still they wander, Baganga. Their wandering so, And the king's killing Rukiza— Happened because of women. Happened because of his sister.

194

195 196

197 198

For women are betrayers. It was one who killed Rukiza Mbibi. It was one he used to kill the Splitter of mukoni wood; it dries.

199 200 201

Shoju grass pricks the foot when short. When it grows, it thatches a house. All you Baganga!

202

194-196.2. Sboju grass, elephant-grass, honey-bees arc symbols of house, family, ubiquitousness, and strength of the downtrodden.

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Rukiza achieves compositional finalization by repeating certain episode types; these adjacent segments have parallel narrative functions. In the epic ballad genre, this kind of repetition most often occurs with qualify segments. Composed of embedded narrative moves, they seem to be optional in performance; a bard may thus begin his tale at several points: at the beginning of an initial qualify segment, at the beginning of a second, a third, or (infrequently, but possibly) at the call itself. This version of 'Rukiza, sung by Justinian Mugasha, has multiple qualify and call episodes, as do all versions of the epic known to me. Its doubled call emphasizes opposing ethical systems: one call is addressed to a king, and the other to a clan patriarch, Rukiza. QUALIFY (1): How Rukiza and Ruhinda become neighbors. (1-62.1) Qualify: Rukiza is born and grows. (1—8.1) Call: As a youth, he finds his cattle lack pasture. (9—12.2) Prepare: His mother will not emigrate, so he leaves her with cattle and servants. (13—21) Travel: He sets out with many clan members. (22—34.1) Engage (-): The pastures he comes to are unsuitable. (35—41) Reveal: Pie finds good land; it is Ruhinda's. (41.1—47) Engage (+): He sends gifts; the land is given. (48—62.1) QUALIFY (2): How Ruhinda married Rukiza's sister. (63-79.3) Call: Ruhinda is told of Rukiza's sister. 63—66.4) Engage (-): He sends matchmakers. Rukiza requires cattle. They are given. (67—74.1) Engage (+): Then he demands drink for a prenuptial ceremony. Ruhinda agrees and the marriage occurs. (75—79.3) CALL (1): Ruhinda's men slander Rukiza, saying he treats milk and butter as of little worth. The king decides to confiscate the cattle. (80—91) CALL (2): One man comes to warn Rukiza. He is in tatters and claims blood brotherhood with the clan leader. (92—106.1) PREPARF: Rukiza deploys his clansmen. (107-116) ENGAGE (-): Rukiza defeats the king's raiding parties. (117-137) REVEAL: After several years, Rukiza's sister reveals the secret of his invincibility: his magic hearts. (138—154) ENGAGE (+): Archers pierce Rukiza's hearts and he dies. (155-173) COMMENT (1): How Rukiza's sister avenges his death. (174—186.2) Call: Rukiza's sister sees his cattle mixed with Ruhinda's. She surmises his death. (174-177) Prepare: She plots revenge by offering magical medicines to her husband. (178-183) Engage (-): She incises his body. (184—185.1) Reveal: Ruhinda reveals his throat. (185.2-186.1)

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Engage (+): She slits it. (186.2) COMMENT (2): She returns to Rukiza's house and participates in the burial. Rukiza's clan becomes landless. (187—192) COMMKNT (3): The bard comments on landlessness and betrayal (193-202.2) The request by a destitute, half-naked man on the basis of claimed blood brotherhood does not seem as central to the action as the principal calls in other epics; for that matter, it does not seem as central to the action as the slanderous call (1) addressed to the king. It is nevertheless absolutely obligatory to a performance. Other bards see some of the details in this episode differently. In one version of Rukiza, the man appearing in the cattle kraal has come as a traitor. He ultimately marries Rukiza's sister and conveys the secret of the three hearts to the king. In the present one, like most others, he betrays the king, warning Rukiza of the impending attack. But all bards see his clothes in tatters. lie stands in the cattle kraal covering his penis with his hand. In most versions I know of, he claims to be a blood brother of Rukiza—though not in the one in •which he marries the clan head's sister. The patriarch grants him an audience and provides for him, but his standing as a blood brother is never confirmed in any version. In most versions (but not in this one) the half-naked man's presence is announced by the laughter of children, another evocation of the reproductive function of clan. The call to the clan patriarch frames the principal conflict with the theme of kin-based alliance. The battles—Rukiza's immediate victories and his ultimate defeat—are set in motion by the erroneous report to the king and the latter's outraged response. Each call propels its protagonist into confrontation. And each call articulates ethical knowledge: the value the royal state places on cattle that maintain alliances and the value a clan-based society places on assisting kin, no matter how distant they may be. One might challenge my compositional interpretation of the vengeance sequence as comment, when I have treated a similar move in Kachwenyanja as engage (equilibrium). This seeming inconsistency in fact indicates the creative flexibility in compositional logic and its functional interdependence with theme. Rukiza's sister's murder of Ruhinda could have been construed as the second of two confrontations, the one that leads to narrative resolution— engage (equilibrium). In this alternate analysis, the sister's seeing and interpreting the presence of Rukiza's cattle in Ruhinda's herd would become a revelation of Rukiza's death (reveal), rather than the call of a move embedded in the comment episode, as it is now. If this analysis is possible why do I not choose it? I construe the move as comment first because of its function with respect to the plot as a whole, in which it does not significantly alter the narrative res-

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olution but merely qualifies or adds significance to it. As comment rather than the achievement: of narrative equilibrium, Ruhinda's death is less significant to the narrative than that of Rukiza. Compare the manner and significance of the death of Littleman and his kin with that of Kachwenyanja: these seem more nearly equal in weight. In its present form, the narrative does not elevate the king's death to thematic parity with that of the clan head. The central, heroic themes of cattle, clan, and king arc finalized with Rukiza's death, which brings state monopoly in cattle ownership and landlessness for the clan; Ruhinda's death seems only a matter of personal and family revenge. A second reason for construing the vengeance sequence as comment rather than as confrontation that leads to equilibrium is its nonobligatory status. The four versions of Rukiza in my collection suggest that the sequence is, if not wholly optional, at least reducible to one or two lines. The possible ambiguity of the king's death does not call the generic compositional pattern into question, for both possible constructions are based on its logic. The ambiguity is rather an additional tool for exploring the narrative and thematic significance of particular acts. Compositional ambiguity also occurs in some proverbs. In these too, thematic emphasis changes with alternate ways of construing compositional logic.

Distribution and Hierarchy of Themes in llaya Epics The world of epic narrative is a symbolic projection of social reality, often through inversion, metaphor, hyperbole, or other acts of aesthetic imagination. Social practice is not necessarily represented directly in narrative action. What is represented in themes is the knowledge that informs and is developed by social practices. And in narrative as in life, knowledge that directs action has cognitive, ethical, and affective dimensions. By manipulating fictional elements, imaginative discourse can reproduce both understandings and feelings associated with institutional practices—or opposition to them. These institutionrelated themes are dominant in epic discourse, and they are invariably to be found in the call. Much of my approach to theme developed through proverbs, folktales, and epics is gratefully acknowledged to have been adapted from the distinctive feature analysis of structuralism and related approaches—except the part relating to the genetically favored compositional unit. As the locus of dominant themes, this favored unit anchors the analytic method to systematically chosen points of contrast within the analytic universe of a carefully defined genre. The favored episode identifies a locus for a contrast-within-a-frame analysis comparing thematic content between texts, just as the segmentation

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of compositional form defined loci for contrast-within-a-frame analysis of stylistic usage. The role of institutions in shaping aesthetic representations has been attended to at least since Malinowski's (1948) conception of myth as "charter." Modern critics whose approaches vary as widely as those of Beidelman (1986), LeviStrauss (1967), and de Rougement (1956) have all observed and commented on die close association. The present method identifies institution-related themes by combining analytic methodologies, and it reveals thematic hierarchies by applying a simple rule of thumb: Genetically favored episodes articulate dominant themes; the same episode type in embedded moves articulates subordinate themes, which modify dominant themes and lend them symbolic force. For example, a dominant theme is articulated by the royal war drums in Kachjvenyanja's principal call, which invokes warrior ethics in a state military. Institutionalized warriorhood provided crucial support for the monarchy and weakened the power of clans. The king conscripted warriors into battalions by region rather than kin group, and he rewarded individual valor with battle-won booty and other royal beneficence. Warriors proclaimed their individual deeds and identities—the basis of reward—in poetic recitations (eby'ebusp) before the king and at other high-spirited occasions. In warriorhood, the state gained a monopoly in military power, which patrilincal clans formerly shared and used against one another in blood feuds. The call of war drums articulates the epic's central theme. Ethics thematized in other calls complement and enrich it. The warrior's response to the call of the dream in the opening scene marks him as a knower, one who can interpret significant messages. But more than that, the dream qualifies his future marriage: Based solely on romantic attraction, the protagonists' union will occur outside the institutional practice of clans. As opposition to clan ethics, the dream-marriage complements state warriorhood. A successful warrior has the virtue of ekitimva, "fearedness," a reputation for strength and valor in service to the king. Instilling fear can be a public verbal display, as when Kachwenyanja taunts enemy warriors at the beginning of the battle scene. This secondary call magnifies the hero's social persona and sets the stage for the battle that follows. His rejection of blood brotherhood here articulates an antikinship ethos. Nyakaandalo's response to the call of the hero's death enriches the thematization of the bond between king and warrior. The killings she commits on Kachwenyanja's behalf are like those he performed for the king. She becomes a warrior's warrior. The metaphoric ratio of these allegiances indicates the fierce loyalty of their heroic romance and also connotes a warrior's affection for a king to whom he dedicates his life. What is implicit in the Muzee's version, the conflict between monarchy and clans, is explicit in the version by the bard Habib Suliman in a performance of

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the epic cited by Mulokozi (1983). In that text, the king's call summons the famed warrior expressly to put: down a clan revolt. The same institutional strife is articulated in the doubled principal call of Ruki^a, but the conflict is between property owners rather than warriors. A slanderous call to King Ruhinda evokes the ethics of royal cattle ownership by decrying their desecration. The clan leader's alleged profligate treatment of milk and butter flaunts their value; it hyperbolically denies scarcity as the basis of their exchange in state building. The king must find these imagined practices morally offensive, threatening, and worthy of punishment. The call to the clan head articulates ethics of kin-based solidarity with similar hyperbole. It comes from a character personifying social disadvantage—a man destitute, nearly naked, found in Rukiza's cattle kraal. His pitiful plea bases its standing on the most tenuous km attachment, the fictive tie of blood brotherhood. Haya blood brotherhood was both metaphorically and metonymically consanguine—it instituted exogamy between the children of blood brothers and was established by each man's swallowing a drop of the other's blood applied to a coffee berry. The clan patriarch Rukiza readily accepts responsibility to provide for the lowliest of persons who claims to be of his blood, no matter how tenuous the link. Note that truth is absolutely not an issue in either call. The appeal itself is sufficient. King and patriarch are ever ready to enact the virtues of their roles. This, Maclntyre (1981) reminds us, is heroic society. The three secondary calls in Rukiza deepen the significance of the primary calls and sharpen their ethical contrasts by portraying cattle in different institutional frameworks. In the first call of the epic, the clan leader sees his herds exceed their pasture and responds by planning a quest to find them room, even though it means leaving his mother and homeland. His treatment of the herds embodies the ethics of familial care; he acts as a parent, a good shepherd; his virtue is to provide for their needs, as he will provide for the naked, tenuously related kinsman calling from his kraal. The king, on the other hand, receives a call about the beauty of Rukiza's sister that implicates, and soon leads to, an exchange of cattle in marriage. The narrative sequence affirms the royal practice of exchanging cattle and commoner women to build alliances. The king sees this practice threatened by the clan leader's imaginary desecration and devaluation of milk and butter. The final subordinated call comes to Rukiza's sister when she sees her brother's cattle mixed with husband's, and she thereby knows the clan leader is dead. The semiotic function of these cattle in the narrative action as exchange and communication parallels her own role as token and unwitting informer. This brief comparison of two well-known Haya epics reveals a hierarchy of thematic significance built according to a simple rule: The principal plot of a narrative is framed by its central themes. Generic composition directs informed

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interpretation to the episode where a plot's dominant, framing themes are clearly articulated. It is the same rule at work in proverbs, where a ratio articulated in parallel and opposed propositions finalizes the conversationally relevant theme. This simple, commonscnse convergence of dominant themes and favored compositional elements will become the basis for an analysis of the degrees to which different genres develop, apply, resist, and are penetrated by power. But before addressing this question fully, I wish to introduce the symbolically fecund and enlightening figure of Mugasha, the fisher god, lord of wind, rain, and aquatic animals, and a prominent spirit in traditional religion, mythology, and epic balladry. His passionate career teaches entertaining lessons about institutional hegemony in narrative genres; it probes profound and creative social differences in traditional society; and it shows how genre can chart the effects of these differences on artistic expression.

Mugasha in Two Generic Worlds The basic plot of the epic ballad Mugasha is substantially reproduced in one particular myth, and a comparison between plots—actually, between their contrasting final episodes—provides a clear way into understanding differences between genres in the characteristic ways they achieve thematic finalization. This epic, like Kachwenyanja and Ruki^a, is well-known in all Haya kingdoms where bards perform. Its eponymous hero—apparently a much-beloved deity, the personification of productive energy and peasant style—is also a protagonist in several myths in Hayaland and its neighboring states. The epic call addressed to the fisher god Mugasha insults him, and he responds with indignation. In Mugasha and in other epic ballads, like Ruki^a, the affront can be called oku-saya, "to belittle, to treat something as low status." In the favored episodes of both epics, a principal protagonist is called on to redress an attack on his social identity. Conflicts about social status may occur a within a single system of value, when parties wrangle over matters of degree. Epic indignations, however, arise from the clash of ethical systems. Mugasha's anger represents unresolved resentments, and the ballad exults in the lowly god's victory—even if it is only partial—over his social superiors.

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Mugasha Bahyoza, Hear the Epic of Bitankwama, IJttle Feet of the Kafun^i Bird,

1

Nyabule^a, the Never Envious, Kashasila, Restrains the I'irst, Thorns Block, Pathways, The Wrathful, Majambwe, Bull of the Heart-Tormenters, Speaks from the Womb, Comes from Mutoi^i,

2

Defter of Mediations. Water's Surge Smashes Everything, Surges in the Wood, Slnd as well Surges in the Tree of Menstrual Pain, Makes Bellows Breathe on Great I^ake l^welu. He refused: "I do not make my bellows breathe in town. " Go slowly, Majambwe, Bull of the Heart-Tormenters. That day I saw: He spoke to Nyambubi, "Mother, push. Give me birth. But fear, and I'll burst your side

3

4

The Defter of Mediations."

1—1.4. Ilabib Suliman addresses the Bahyoza, the name for residents of the Kyamutwala kingdom, where the famous bard from Ki/iba often performed. Lines 1—3 are praise names associated with Mugasha and other spirits. They are quoted from the self-praise poetry (eby'ebugo) that spirits recite with characteristic styles when they possess mortals. Bards use and conserve this knowledge. L'/ven though there is an organisation of spirit mediums, the names and praises of spirits are not standardised. Bitankwama: possibly "Thcsc-(insulting words)-do-not-botherme," a name that fits Mugasha's style. Nyabuleza and Kashasila are female spirits, whose relationship to childbearing is probably invoked here. Never Envious (of another's child), contrasts with Mugasha's aunt (78). Restrains . . . and Thorns Block Pathways are images of difficult childbirth. Ishumi (1980) reports a new mother is traditionally congratulated "there are no thorns." Bull of the Hcart-Tormenters signifies the strongest of the Bachwexi spirits who possess humans; it is praise for Mugasha. 2.6. A mugege, or Tree of Menstrual Pain, is used in medicine for vaginal bleeding; engege is menstrual pain. The tree is also used to make charcoal for ironworking. 3. Lwelu is the [lava name for Lake Victona/Nyan/a, probably from okw-ela, "to be white" referring to the reflection of sunlight and sky in the water. Lines 4—10 describe Mugasha's difficult birth, from his speech inside the womb to the midwife's unsuccessful treatment.

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Nyambubi pushed. But it had no effect. She rushed here and there. Nyambubi was jerked into a frenzy.

5

Those around her said, "Get midwives." They brought Galengaine, Pretty packet, }^ong necked calabash from Mugunda. The healer picked Whitener and Benefactor at the fence.

6

She spoke to Nyambubi: My child, bear down. Give him birth. The one -who -will end your childlessness is Mugasha." On that day Nyambubi pushed. But it had no effect. She rushed here and there. On that day, she was jerked into a frenzy.

7

On that day I saw The healer left the hearth room, Her right hand holding as she came a hornful of tobacco. Her left is busy too as one who makes kilangi extract. The healer was confounded, "What shall I do, my child?"

8 9

10

11

She said, "Bear down harder still." 12 They applied all the birthing medicines But they had no effect. The kind to lick and the kind to sniff, The kind whose leaves they strip and throw in the hearth's flames, the Kin of the Peaceful. On that day they did them. But they had no effect. The healer was confounded, "What shall 1 do my child?"

13

I saw her on that day:

15

14

5.3. Frenzy: Mugasha's mother's state is like being jerked about in a lively dance. 6.2. Pretty packet, Long necked are praise for the midwife's appearance. Lines 11—18 describe mother's plight and midwife's despair. 12.4. Kin of the Peaceful is a praise name for women, people associated with Nyakalcmbe, "The Peaceful," a women's agricultural spirit and the wife of Mugasha.

Mugasha

149

She left the hearth room,

Her right hand holding as she came a hornful of tobacco. Her left is busy too as one who makes kilangi extract. She said, "My powers! My powers! My powers!" On that day the healer stood confounded, "What shall I do? My powers!"

16 17 18

We said, "Elder, what has happened?" She said, "My children, hurry! Quickly, quickly! Pray at a spirit shrine for help, my children.

19

Go to Wamara, Swaying One of Nyante, Long of neck, with rings of wrinkles, Set Right by Tribute, Tiny Egg of hndisa Bird, He came from Zin^aland. Pray to He grows not weary when resolution is far, Tired in the back, It carried those who don't drop down, Relentless one, Sheep of the White Region, my children." She said, "Go to the Swaying One of Nyante, Long of neck with rings of wrinkles" We took gray goats and white sheep.

20

On that day we brought tribute to Wamara, Swaying One of Nyante, Long of neck imth rings of wrinkles. Set Right by Tribute We brought tribute to the Brother of the Hindu, Arm that Conquers,

21

22 23

24

In linos 19—23 spiritual means are sought to birth Mugasha. Although Wamara eventually assists in this, the high god's praise expresses semantic opposition to Mugasha. His swaying gate and long neck -with rings of wrinkles evoke the style and appearance associated with aristocracy, as Mugasha's style and appearance evoke the peasantry. Wamara is Set Right by Tribute as a king, while Mugasha pumps his bellows (3) as an artisan. Wamara's appetite for tribute is punningly proverbial: Wamara tamanva "Wamara is never finished" (cited in Shmidt 1978). Wamara comes from the south, in Zinxaland, while Mugasha comes from the north in the Sessc Islands of Uganda. Nyante is Wamara's mother, 21—21.2. These praise names for Wamara are said to refer to serpents associated with him, who carry one another on their backs, as mothers do children. Lines 24—24.4 suggest that the bard augments Wamara's praise names with those of other spirits. Arm that Conquers and Embracer of Warriors echo feminine praise in another context

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Hmbracer of Warriors, Buttocks [Billed with Sweet banana Mash, Sewing A-ivl. On that day the healer was confounded, "What shall I do? My powers!" I saw on that clay: The Sivaying One of Nyanle said, "My children!" He sent Harbinger, child of Kayango, By Misfortunes cursed. Fie said, "Go and fell a rnusharnbya tree, the Stretcherbearer. Carve from it small paddles nine. Fell the well-placed mulinzi tree. Carve from it a small canoe. Put these in a spirit house," He said, "For the child fisherman of Ishulaine Bugunda" The healer on that day brought them quicldy, quickly. They made the payment. I saw: He was born, Nyatende. He came down. He chanted his praise. I le brought it from within. He said, "Hurry to Kishanje of Kalasha at Mutailenge's Go to Ibebe's at Bwcza. Go tell Uncle Food-for-thc-road Never-arrives He should hurry quickly, quickly To Nyatende Mugasha." He said, "Uncle Food-for-thc-road Never-arrivcs Run quickly, quickly

25

26 27

28

29 30

31

32 33

34

(Ruki^a: 97) and Buttocks . . . (24.3) echoes praise for the spirit of Rain (in the epic ballad Mu hater. 212). 27—30. The ritual preparations for Mugasha's birth construct and equip his spirit house, or shrine. Wamara speaks through a spirit medium. Harbinger, literally, "preccder," is Wamara's helper and guardian of the boundary between Bachwe/1 and living mortals.

29. The child fisherman is Mugasha. 31. The miraculous child speaks at birth. One of Mugasha's names, Nyatende (31.1), is also that of his mother's sister. It refers to sheaves of crops, apropos of his association with fertility. lines 33—37 suggest ;m episode developed more fully in a version from southern Ilayaland (in Muloko/i 1986). In the southern version, Mugasha journeys to the Sesse Islands to reclaim his rightful kingdom from the usurper Katanda ("I''ood-for-thc--road")bcforc returning to marry the high god's daughter.

Mugasha

151

I would send you to Kiziba. Go for me to Ntumwa Magembe at Nipelasho's in Kaigoma." He said, "Have them transport for me a canoe of eight seats. The ninth is horn." They went and set it down at Nyakilembeka landing. When they had set it down at Nyakilembeka landing— I saw on that day— He said, "Uncle, run quickly, quickly."

35

His uncle came and spoke to the child in his cradle. He left.

37

The child went and he sat among the pillars of the antechamber. fie raised his hand. I saw the Trapper on that day When he had raised his hand,

35

38

I saw all the people were confounded. He said, "Give to me my paddles nine, carved as I was being born." They brought nine paddles. He clutched one paddle. He said, "This paddle's mine. I'll make a crossing."

39

He emerged into the forecourt, They said, "He'll fall." They saw him walking everywhere. That day the child reached the cattle road. His mother Nyambubi emerged that day as well. She stood amazed. People left the village. They went ululating and singing, Answering one another, the Kin of the Peaceful They sing, "The joyful one grows joyous." They respond, "She grows joyous in her reign." When they had walked with him to Nyakilembeka landing, The child summoned Rushing Water of the Lake,

49

41

42

Whirling Child of Urn b-Twister.

37.4. Trapper (of fish) is a praise name for Mugasha. 40. A cattle road is located at least 30—40 yards from a dwelling, at the end of a forecourt. It is wider than a footpath. 41.2. Kin of the Peaceful are women. 41.3. "The joyful one grows joyous . . . " are words of a women's song at weddings.

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He said, "Whistling Wind Blower-of-cold, I-never-miss-a-doonvaj,

43

Silent Runner Lightning Flash." He summoned Thunder. He called the winged Nshungu wind of Lwabulungu, Great horns lie back across the shoulders, Bad news brought by a traveler, Puller-of-fish-lines.

44

He said, "This very day I'm wanting to be traveling. This day on Great Lake Lweru, I would go and fish enkuyu, Big eyes skyward like a forgetful debtor" He said, "Empala fish, the Long-horn mkoma mujungwi^i, I'll catch this very day. I'll catch bukeije and bukokalongp"

45

I saw the Trapper on that day.

47

I saw his canoe float out into the middle of the lake. His mother Nyambubi clapped her hands. She spread her palms. She summoned the Sun I-have-shone and the Sun He-who-creates. She said, "My child roams, and I await what comes like upper teeth." I saw: The canoe came back to Nyakilembeka landing.

48

Out in the middle of the lake Mugasha spent eight years. In the ninth he summoned Rushing Water. He said, "I^ake-Diveller, Puller-of-fish-lines, I'm wanting: I would go to where I first set out, I would travel and see my mother, who gave birth to me, I would see her, who pushed for me." When they had paddled on that day, the Trapper, He said, "I would go and see my mother, who gave birth to me.

46

49 50 51 52

53 54

43.1. Silent Runner praises lightning, which in traditional belief is silent and relatively harmless; thunder is thought to make noise and do damage. 44. Nshungu is a strong seasonal wind that brings cloud formations resembling the long horns of Ankole cattle. 45.2. A forgetful debtor avoids looking his creditor in the eye. 46. Empala is a catfish whose whiskers swing about like the long horns of an aggressive bull. 49. Mugasha's mother invokes the Sun in two personas: the heavenly body and the Creator's child. 49.1. The emergence of the upper teeth of an infant before the lower is an extremely unfortunate sign. It becomes an image for any grave misfortune that may befall a child and its mother.

Mugasha

153

I would see her, who pushed for me." From out in the middle he saw rune women.

55

They were drawing water at Nyakilembeka landing. He said, "Among those women I cannot tell the one who gave birth to me.

56

I cannot tell the one who pushed for me, Mugasha." He was confounded on that day, the Trapper. He sat there confounded.

57

When he saw the nine women,

58

He made a man's plan. He jumped from the canoe. He threw himself into the lake, Mugasha. He threw out his arm.

59

He called, "Come save me—-water's swallowing me!" That day they were confounded. On that day, Nyatende and Nyambubi: There was a woman they call Nyatende, The sister of Nyambubi iyo o

60

A woman they call Nyatende, Sister of Nyambubi

61

That day she spoke to Nyambubi, "Child of my mother, ancestral spirit Help me place my feet for mercy's sake! Let me grab hold of my child iyo-o." She said, "Let me grab hold of my child, This very day, me myself. You know if an only child should die:

62 63

57. I have substituted the word "Trapper" for omukaikulu, which means "elder woman" (referring to the midwife) and which is apparently a mistake here. 59.1. Mugasha's being swallowed by the water is a laughable ruse. . . . The dotted line marks a splice between two versions of Ilabib's Mugasha. The Tracy recording contains a non sequitur caused by the singer's merging the two test incidents that immediately follow one another. To present the full story, I have inserted the missing episode from a recording of ITabib made by Mukama Lukamba. 60. Mugasha's childless aunt starts out as though she will succeed in becoming known as his mother, but her dedication is not sufficient and she fails. The women argue. 61.3. Child of my mother and ancestral spirit are terms of address that convey both intimacy and respect. Mugasha's aunt asks her sister's help in a difficult task.

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It kills the one who bore it; It brings us haunting; It returns and brings us nightmares." Mugasha's aunt, my mother, waded out into the water. It reached the nipples of her breasts. That day the woman backed out buttocks first. The woman raised her hand like one who curses. 1 saw her speak to Mugasha. She said, "It was not I who gave birth to you, O dear, not I, who pushed for you. The water shall not swallow me, Mugasha!" The woman backed out buttocks first that day. Because Mugasha had no one to take him from the lake that day, lie left the lake himself And returned to his canoe. When it reached the shore They were fighting over fish, the Kin of the Peaceful. Kin of Squatting and iron, You know, Kin of the Hoes Ruled by Kabagala, They came to fight. They quarreled over an enkuyu fish, IMg eyes skyward like a forgetful debtor. This one said, "It was I who gave birth to him." That one said, "It was I who pushed for him." This one said, "If you're the one who gave him birth, then when he fell into the water. Why didn't you grab hold of him?" That one said, "And when you went to grab him, Why did you back out buttocks first?"

64

65 66

67 68

69

70

liwewe yo-o

71

63—63.1. This belief about the unsettled nature of a deceased child's spirit is commonly known. 65. Mugasha's aunt's gesture, hand raised with palm outward, usually requests a spirit's help in redressing a wrong. 69. Squatting or sitting with knees raised is women's characteristic posture for such gender-related acts as giving birth, lovcmaking, urinating, cooking at the hearth, and doing agricultural labor. 69.1. Kabagala is a small, heart-shaped hoe that women use to weed crops. It is regarded by some as the earliest form of hoc and therefore the ruler of other hoes. This praise is frequently used about women.

Miigasha

155

Wamara happened to be there that day. He gave them the copper spear of Kagolo.

72 73

Missile of Despair, Speaker of Angry, Dry Words, With Stiffened Elbows." Adorned with beads all over except the palm,

74

Of the Left-handers, Of the Water Oracle; He drank it—he spilled it, lie built it—he burned it, Confronter of Warriors, Wamara said, "You nine women, as you are here, Decide this, my children," He said, "If a warrior woman comes arid spears Mugasha and kills him

75

76 77

I'll give her nine children." I saw: The women all fell into bewilderment. Mugasha's aunt said, "Just let me impale Mugasha and kill him. They'll give me nine children. These cannot be outweighed by Nyambubi's one child."

78

When she raised the spear above her head, Nyambubi seized her arm from below.

79

She said, "This thing won't kill my child for me! It wasn't I who brought it childlessness." That day he was astonished, Majambwe the 'Trapper. I saw those present.

80 81

In lines 76—81.3, Wamara offers nine children to whoever will kill Mugasha with a copper spear. Mugasha's childless aunt accepts and tries to hurl the spear, but Nyambubi prevents her, revealing that she is Mugasha's real mother. 73. Kagolo is Wamara's son. Mis praise alludes to his hot-headed and warlike behavior, whic spirit mediums embody when they are possessed by him. 74.1. Dry words are strong and effective, as opposed to 'wet' words, which are weak. /4.2. Stiff Elbows probably reflects his demeanor as a possessing spirit; it seems to reinforce in gestural language his extreme and immoderate behavior. 74.5. The water oracle (Byantabu^i) is associated with this spirit (its name comes from oku-tabula, "to make water bubble up or forth"). Byantabu/i also echoes the name of the place where Kagolo acquired his characteristic way of talking (154.3). 75. Drank it, spilled it, built it, burned it, refer to the episodes of myths about Kagolo and Wamara.

156

The Powers of Genre

They said, "Nyambubi, you win the case. There is no woman who'd kill the child she bore. Nyambubi, the child is yours." They gave her an enkuyu fish, Big eyes skyward like a forgetful debtor. They said, "Mother's sisters should not leave empty handed." I saw them give her bukeije and bukena fish.

82 83

On that day, Nyatende, Trapper, Water-dweller. Mugasha.

84

When he had found the mother who had borne him, the Trapper, He returned to Great Lake Lweru. He took hold of his canoe. He passed by Kishanje village of Kalasha at Mutailenge's house. He alighted at the home of Ibebe at: Bweza. I saw: he passed Rubafu at the waters of Nyamataba. At Kanyabagwa beach, Nyatende, the Trapper. I saw: he passed Kyahu island of Nyakwezi. He cast his eyes towards Bitterness Marsh, Mugasha.

85

That was when he saw eight maidens. The ninth was Lwanyaibungo, Eull of the Pretty Kalaito. The maiden was the daughter of Wamara, Swaying One of Nyantc, Long of Neck with Rings of Wrinkles, Set "Right by Tribute. She'd gathered straw: four and four, eight bundles; The ninth she clutched in her hand; The tenth she pressed underfoot. The child was surprised by Whistling Wind, Elower-of-cold, 1-nevermiss-a-doorway. That straw, the Wind strewed and strewed about.

86 87 88

89

90 91

82. I'or Big eyes . . . forgetful debtor sec note to line 45. 84. Nyatende refers to Mugasha. 88.2. Bull denotes leadership and preeminence and is used in praise of the maiden—she is the most pleasing among maidens, like deep red wild figs, the kalaito fruit. Her stature is parallel and opposed to that of Mugasha, who is called the Bull of the Heart's Tormenters—first among the Bachwczi possession spirits (1.6, 94.1). 88.4-88.6. Praise of the god Wamara, sec notes to 19-23.

Mugasha

157

She pressed and pressed it together with her skirt. But it had no effect. She sat down on the ground. She swore, "O father! Swaying One of Nyante." The maiden on that day was confounded. Her companions ran, they left her. She sat there confounded.

92

93 94

She'd not gotten the words out of her mouth

When suddenly Nyatende appeared, Bull of the Heart-Tormentors. Speaker from the Womb, Comes from Mutoi'^i,

95

Defter of Mediations. Fie said, "I am the only child. / ended my mother's childlessness. "

96

The maiden on that day sat there confounded. "Maiden, I would court you, I would marry you."

I saw: She said, "You are not one to marry me, Litde fisherman of Ishulaine Bugunda." She said, "Die without issue! You stink!" That day Mugasha had tied on his cloak of dried minnows. I saw on that day. The maiden spat. Spittle scattered. She said, "I swear to you Mugasha: Rather than have you marry me I'd sleep with my mother's child, Kagolo." She said, "Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle,

97

98 99

100

Lyanyaibungo has been gathering straw to place on the floor of a dwelling. Work of this kind comes under the category of "to make things pleasing" a knowledge especially associated with marriageable young women. The call in the principal plot of the epic. Mugasha meets Lyanyaibungo, identifies himself with praise, and proposes to her. She answers him with language and gesture that signals her contempt for his low status. For her, the defilement a union with him would bring is tantamount to sibling incest. Mugasha vows he will marry her, implying that the shame of his failure to do so would be tantamount to maternal incest. 99.5. Mother's child is a way of referring to one's sibling (here, a brother) with affection.

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The Powers of Genre

Missile of Despair, Speaker of Angry, Dry Words, With Stiffened lllbows. " She said, "Adorned with beads all over except the palm,

101

Of the "Left-handers, Of the Water Oracle. " The maiden on that day sat confounded.

102

I saw on that day: He spoke, Nyatende,

103

Little Feet of the Kafun^i Bird. He said, "Maiden, this very day

104

If I should fail to marry you I'd lie with my own mother, Nyambubi." He summoned Rushing Water. He said, "Rushing Water of the Lake, Whirling Child of Umb-Tivister," He said, "Go inside the Mugoma rocky outcrop. Sound my great drum—They-die But-they've-been-told." lie \vent and sounded They-die But-they've-been-told,

105

106

Roaring Di-di-cii, Roaring De-de-de. Roaring Di-di-di, Roaring Dc-cle-de. I saw that day They-die But-they've-been-told, Roaring Di-di-di, Roaring De-de-de. I saw it speak, They-die But-they've-been-told, Roaring Di-di-di. There attended on that day nkuytt fish, Big eyes skyward like a forgetful debtor.

It said, "You marry her, Mugasha!" There attended eel.

107 108

109

110

105. They-die-but-they've-been-told is the name of Mugasha's drum. 106.1. Roaring translates ngu, a conjunction sometimes used to introduce indirect discourse. I fere its repetitive use seems onomatopoetic. Mugasha's drum brings his minions. Uach praises itself and endorses his marriage quest They help him plan the wedding. For each ritually prescribed article the aquatic minions mention, Mugasha proclaims a substitution. The wedding party then proceeds to Wamara's palace, frogs leading the way.

Mugasha

It said, "You marry her, Mugasha!" I saw on that clay. I saw the empala fish, \jong-horn enkoma mujungn^i. It said, £CYou marry her, Trapper!" Hippopotamus Smasher of 1 j>ng Canoes Old Man of (be Waves, It said, "You marry her, Mugasha!" I saw frogs and bukena minnows Saying, "You marry her, Trapper!"

159

111

112

Up and spoke the nsenene grasshopper. It said, "I am \jvakymge and } aga^a My head is a thin straw; my foot is njulujunga. I'll fall four and four, eight days in Kyamutivala. The ninth will be a time for bushel baskets. You marry her, Trapper!"

113

Thunder, lELssential Warrior, He said, "You marry her Mugasha!" He said, "If you didn't marry Lyanyaibungo, Mugasha, Where could we go, Trapper?" I saw on that: day. He was confounded, Mugasha.

115

I saw on that day. He looked at the empala fish, }jong-horn enkoma mujungwi^i, And at bukena minnows. I saw on that day: The enkalongo fish as well, It said, "You marry her, Mugasha!" I saw on that clay. Up spoke the locust, He said, "/ am the sharpening stone, I-aver of the Mountain Pass." On that day I saw

114

116

117

118 119

120 121

113. Ensenene grasshoppers arc caught, dressed, cooked, and eaten as a great delicacy that comes once a year, during the short rainy season. They arc usually caught singly with the hand. The tasty grasshopper boasts that there will be so many as to be scooped up in large baskets. 116.1. Where could "we go is a question that speaks to the virtue and shame invested in the events. The lowly fisherman acts on behalf of many.

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The Powers of Genre

He asked them . . . I saw on that day . . . He said, "You who've come, tell me—to marry at the Swaying One of Nyante's, what kind of brideprice do they give?" That day they told him, "They give cattle, my lord." He said, "Take hippopotami." They said, "But my friend, what about sheep?" He said, "Take crocodiles." On that day, Mugasha. I saw him say, "But my friends, what else do they do?" That day they said, "Butterfat for the bride." He said, "Take bukena minnow scales. Fill a snail shell with them." They said, "Bring a bedsheet for the mother's sister." He said, "Strings of dried bukanda fish." I saw that day. They said, "Iron pruning tools?" He said, "Bring large perch." I saw that day, Mugasha. They said, "Cattle?" He said, "Bring hippopotami." They said, "A sheep?"

122

123

124

He said, "lake a crocodile." That day he sat confounded, Nyatende Bull of the \\eart-Tormenters, That day, the Swaying One of Nyante was surprised by frogs, jumping and jumping. They sang, "They'll tell of this." They said, "They'll tell of this. They'll tell of this. They'll tell of this." They said, "What did I say to you, Father Grunter?

126

I said, 'Free me from a trap and I'll free you.' What did I tell you my blood brother? 1 said, 'Free me from a trap and I'll free you.'"

127

125

121.3—124.3. Cattle are used for brideprice. A white sheep la usually to be sacrificed to a clan spirit. Butterfat is spread on a bride to make her shine with beauty. A bride's mother's sister receives a gift also, as was alluded to above (83). 124.4-127. The frog's song and the events it alludes to apparently come from a folktale, but 1 have not been able to find the one.

Mugasha That day when I looked into the antechamber, I found the enkolongo making a courting speech.

161 128

The spear that enkolongo held on his shoulder, Is the spike that's now stuck on his back. The maiden of the hafted knife was eel. She'd spread on so much butterfat for sleekness That today to grasp an eel, you first must pat some mud. The elder who made the courting speech was enkonlongo.

129

130

The spear he held on his shoulder, Is the spike that's now stuck on his back. I saw on that day:

131

The Swaying One of Nyante He said, "Before I'd give a daughter to Mugasha, I'd drink from the spear of Ndekezi." He sent all these things. But they had no effect. I saw Mugasha on that day: He sent Hailstones, child of Earthquake. On that day I saw Warnara,

132

Swaying One of Nyante: He said, "Give her to him. Let her go and marry him, The bull of Nyambubi." When they handed her over to them, They set her down on Nyakilembeka landing.

133

There they met Nyatende Mugasha.

134

He said, "And you, welata, Rushing Water of the Lake, (ljuller)-of-fish-lines"

135

The aquatic wedding party is treated roughly by Wamara, who vows his daughter will never marry the fisherman. Mugasha sends large hailstones and buries Wamara to the armpits (a detail from Ilabib's later version). Wamara hands over his daughter. The water animals take the bride to Mugasha. 128.1. On the day before a bride leaves home to live with her husband's family, an elder representative of the husband's clan comes bearing a spear to make a speech. The fish who performs this act here is a kind of catfish, whose spear Wamara fused to his back. 129. The maiden of the hafted knife is a young girl who accompanies the speech-making, spear-bearing elder. I ler cultural butterfat becomes natural slime by the power of Wamara. 131.3. Drink from the spear of Ndekezi is a proverbial expression for committing suicide. The phrase refers to a poison ordeal administered by a medium of the spirit Kimuli. 132.8. The bull of Nyambubi refers to Mugasha.

162

The Powers of Genre

He said, "Whirling Kamengo of Umb-TivisterKabantende, I welcome you from your journey, welata." They said, "Indeed."

136

He said, "And when you got there, did you meet Kagolo, Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle, Welata?" They said, "We did not meet him there, my lord." He said, "Paddle swiftly! Don't you know Kagolo's coining to churn the lake up, With the children still in the middle, Welata?"

137

Ya-ya Ya-ya Ya-ya Ya-ya Ya-ya Ya-ya

139

He went and he married her. He stayed inside with her four and four, eight days. Then suddenly appeared (at Wamara's palace)—Kagolo, Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle, Missile of Despair, Speaker of Angry, Dry Words, With Stiffened Elbows.

140

On that day when he had come, He said, "Where is she, our child Lyanyaibungo?" Her father said, "The Trapper took her." I saw his father confounded on that day. He said, "My child, I have nothing, Nothing to compare it to." Kagolo said, "Give me my bow."

138

141 142

They gave him one of the mushambya tree, Stretcher Bearer. They gave him one of the coffee tree.

135-138.3. These lines are spoken in a rapid recitative. Welata is supposed to be a word in the Ganda language. Mugasha speaks Ilaya with a Ganda accent and uses some Ganda vocabulary, because he comes from the north, from the Sesse Islands of Uganda in Lake Victoria/Nyanza. Mugasha takes his bride home and stays inside with her for eight days. Then her brother Kagolo returns. lie arms himself and goes to fight Mugasha. 139. These vocables arc sung in the melody of a fisherman's paddling song. 142-142.1. I have nothing, nothing to compare it to, a confession of defeat: Wamara's rhetorical inability to make comparisons is equated with his lack of physical mastery. 142.3-142.8. mushambya . . . coffee tree . . . mukanshe . . . In the later version, Habib

Mugasha

163

He took it. He strung it. He took a bow of the mukanshe tree. He went with eight arrows in his quiver. The ninth went in his hand, saying clacking words. In the places where he passed were plantain banana plants. They became raphia palms. When he reached the main road, Mushunshu plants became bijeela.

143

On that day I saw: Kagolo came to the great lake Lwelu.

144

He called, "Mugasha, corne carry me. I would go and see our child Lyanyaibungo Bull of the Pretty Kalatto." Mugasha looked over with one eye. He said, "There is Kagolo of the Spirit Shrined He got a cloud of lake flies and hid inside.

145

Kagolo let fly eight arrows. They fell into the lake. The ninth caught Mugasha in the leg. He was startled: "I've been pricked by the spike of an enkolongo"

146

I saw Kagolo on that day. Confounded was he, Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle. I saw on that day: He was confounded, Kagolo, Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle. Missile of Despair, Speaker of Angry, Dry Words, With Stiffened Elbows.

147 148

I saw on that day: His own leg—the Trapper lopped it off.

149

150

151

describes how Kagolo tries an even greater succession of bows, but each one breaks under his strength. 143-143.3. Kagolo's power to alter natural species recalls that of Wamara. 145. Looked over with one eye. To look at a person briefly, with the head turned making one eye prominent communicates an unfriendly disposition.

164

The Powers of Genre He threw it in the lake.

He went inside the Mugoma rocky outcrop. He took out Lyanyaibungo, ~Bull of the Pretty Kalatlo. He said, "Come I'll take you. Your people have followed you. I cannot marry you. I've been disfigured in my leg, Nyatende (Rutt of) The Heart-Tormenters. " I saw on that day:

152

Mugasha paddled. That day swiftly, swiftly. When he had paddled about two miles: He saw that day— There he stopped, confounded. He felt great pain. I saw on that day: His leg, the '1'rapper— He summoned Thunder, Ussential Warrior, that day. He said, "Be quick! I would meet Kagolo at the landing. He'll have nothing to compare it to." [False start: When he let loose a single bolt that day He hit him on the head with an oar] On that day he let loose a single bolt. Kagolo plunged into Kabyantabuzi rock. I saw him sink down that day, his legs and backside . . . When only his head was left above the rock, When Mugasha came, He said, "You, Kagolo," He said, "I—Nyatende—have come. An only child, I ended my mother's childlessness. " He said, "I—the Ashy-colored one—have come, One who jumps about."

153

154

155

156 157

154—154.1. [When he let loose. . . |: apparently a mistake, quickly corrected. 157—157.1. Ashy-colored one . . .who jumps about arc praise names of Mugasha. The dominant criteria for a good appearance are the opposite: a smooth, well oiled skin and a smooth, unhurried gait. These negative values are a style of self-praise which "makes oneself small" using un-heroic descriptions with ironic intent; this is consistent with Mugasha's social status.

Mugasha

165

And he said, "I—Kagolo—have come, Of the Spirit Shrine, Of the Water Oracle, Missile of Despair, Speaker of Angry, Dry Words, With Stiffened Elbows. Adorned with beads all over except the palm, Of the Left-handers, Of the Water Oracle." I saw that day: Kagolo had nothing to compare it to.

158

159

160 161

He said, "You, Kagolo! Get up, let's fight." He refused. He said, "Ti ti ti ti ti ti ti ti." The paddle hit Kagolo's head. He said, "Come out, let's fight I—the Trapper—have come."

162

He said, "Ti ti ti ti ti ti ti ti." I saw on that day: Majambive, 'Bull of the Heart-Tormenters, Speaker from the Womb,

163

Pie comes from M.utoi^i, 'The Trapper. His paddle hit Kagolo's head. Kagolo flew out of Kabyantabuzi rock. He told him, "Whoever hits your eye—you hit his nose." Mugasha had one leg to stand on. But to this day Kagolo never has found a word to say. Nyatende Mugasha.

165. Whoever hits your eye . . is a well-known proverb.

164

165

166

The Powers of Genre

This text is a compilation of two performances by Habib Suliman. Lines 1-59.2 and 78-165.3 were recorded by Hugh Tracey (1950), and lines 60-77.1 were recorded by Mukama Lukamba in 1980. The inserted lines correct a mistake by the singer in the earlier recording. The wording of many lines in the two performances is remarkably similar. The singer's 1980 performance began with a line almost identical to 59.1, "Come save me—water's swallowing me!" The compositional logic of Mugasha has a number of optional qualify sequences. In other versions of this epic there are even more than the three in this performance QUALIFY (1): Flow Mugasha was born (1-31.2) Qualify: Mugasha's praise. (1—3.2) Call: He calls from his mother's womb for birth. (4—5.3) Prepare: A well-known midwife is summoned. (6—6.3) Engage (-): She works but without result. (7—18.1) Reveal: Wamara reveals the necessary ritual acts. (19—30.1) Engage (+): They are performed, and Mugasha is born (31—31.2) QUALIFY (2): How Mugasha, it seems, began to reclaim a kingdom. (32—50) Call: (apparently missing) Prepare: Mugasha orders canoes prepared. (32—39.4) Travel: The infant toddles to the shore. (40—46.2) Engage (-): His mother objects, but he sets out. (47-48) Reveal: She prays to Kazoba. (48.1-49.1) Engage (+): Mugasha returns. (50) QUALIFY (3): How Mugasha found his forgotten mother. (51-104.2) Call: Now grown, Mugasha -wants to know who his mother is.(51—54.1) Engage (-): Feigning drowning, he calls for help. Flis aunt starts to save him but backs away in fear. (55-70.3) Reveal: Wamara proposes that any woman who spears Mugasha will be given nine children. (71-77.1) Engage (+): The barren aunt tries to kill him, but Mugasha's mother stops her, revealing her identity. (78—80) Comment: Fish are distributed according to kin relationships. (81—84.3) CALL: Mugasha meets, greets, and proposes to Lyanyaibungo; she refuses and insults him in return. (85—104.2) ENGAGE (-): flow Mugasha married Lyanyaibungo. (104.3—139) Call: Mugasha summons his minions. (104.3—109.1) Prepare: They attend and prepare wedding gifts. (109.2—124.3) Engage (-): The animals propose a marriage to Wamara but are abused by him. (124.4-132.1) Reveal: Mugasha sends the weather he controls. (132.2—132.3) Engage (+): Wamara agrees to the marriage. (132.4—132.8) Comment: Mugasha worries about Kagolo. (133—139)

Heroic Society in Interlacustrme Africa

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REVEAL: Kagolo, Lyanyaibungo's brother, returns to Wamara's house from a journey. (140.2 -140.7) ENGAGE (+): How Mugasha fought Kagolo. Call: Kagolo learns of his sister's marriage. (140.8—142.1) Prepare: Kagolo obtains a weapon. (142.2—142.8) Travel: Kagolo travels so fast he changes nature. (143—143.3) Engage (-): He shoots an arrow into Mugasha's knee. Mugasha cuts off his own leg and sends the new bride back. (144—152.8) Kngage (+): Mugasha beats Kagolo until he cannot speak. (153—164.1) Comment: Mugasha's proverb and the bard's comment. (165—165.3) The principal call consists of two proposed exchanges that are rejected by the high god's daughter—greeting and marriage; for many Hayas these exemplify the conflict between king and clan. Clan ethics specify symmetry in exchanges of salutations in greetings and women in marriage. But state etiquette prescribed that royal relatives receive greater deference from commoners in greeting (Dauer 1984). The exchange of women was also asymmetrical: Men of ruling clans could marry women of nonruling clans but not the reverse. This moral strife flashes at the horizons of this epic world. Mugasha and Wamara are both Bachwezi, mythical rulers who disappeared just prior to the Hinda and Bito dynasties, the royal families in several eastern African societies well into the twentieth century. Having disappeared from the earth, Bachwezi became subjects of a possession cult found in these same societies. Earlier interpretations saw Bachwezi as actual historical rulers, but Berger (1981), -working from sources drawn from the entire interlacustrine region, has convincingly portrayed the Bachwezi as the ideological component of religious institutions that articulated indigenous resistance to state-building invaders; the latter ultimately prevailed and established themselves as the Bito and Hinda dynasties. Schmidt (1978) notes the same conflict between Haya religious and dynastic institutions. Working from primary archaeological evidence, oral history, and structural analysis of myths from royal sources, Schmidt establishes that early state builders embraced Mugasha's cult to gain ideological support for the state. The royal sources portray Mugasha solely as an ally of the Bito and Hinda throne. But epic ballads about the fisher god portray him as a robust projection of peasant ethics and aesthetics. His early co-option as a royal cult figure seems clearly an attempt to control an autochthonous and independent peasantry, which, perhaps like the epic realization of the unruly god, was sometimes allied with the state and sometimes with clan-based religion, and sometimes opposed to them. Semantic opposition between Mugasha and Wamara is strongly expressed in epics. Mugasha comes from the Sesse Islands in Uganda to the north; he sometimes speaks Luganda. Wamara comes from the south—from Zinzaland in the

168

The Powers of Genre

epic Kabundu Gulikiile; and Sukumaland in one version of Kajango. Mugasha rules the water; Wamara, the land. Although in some senses a king, Mugasha is also a commoner. The episode in which Wamara's daughter refuses to greet him makes this point in the strongest possible way; and her out-of-hand rejection of his proposal, "You cannot marry me, you little fisherman. . . . Die without issue. You stink," hyperbolically represents the ethics of endogamy for royal women. Mugasha associates with commoners, frequently appearing in epics as a laborer. He fishes, he chops firewood, he plants squash, and he is praised as a "bellows pumper" and a "friend of potters." His ignorance of courtly custom marks him as an omukigemu, literally, "a person of the banana grove"—what we might disparagingly call a "bumpkin" or a "hick." His unconcerned ignorance and his easy substitution of grotesque for polite forms indicate that he is not only a commoner at heart but a comic and heroic commoner, the kind of hero Bakhtin sees emerging in the interethnic and interclass confrontations of the medieval marketplace. Mugasha is a grotesque of the type Bakhtin ascribes to Gargantua in his study of Rabelais' work. Compounded of diverse occupational and ethnic languages and values, he is an upwelling of rural peasant sensibilities in an urbane setting, a complex embodiment of linguistic babble and belly laughter. Not only does Mugasha resemble the gargantuan type on a point-by-point basis; but he also indicates probable similarities in the contexts that made possible these literary forms. Mugasha is the hero of social difference. Although a ruler of the lake and of water-borne natural phenomena, he is a commoner by craft and by the treatment he gets from Wamara's daughter. He is strongly associated with fertility through his wife, Nyakalembe ("Peaceful-one," patron spirit of women's agricultural ritual), his embodiment of rain itself, and his oft-repeated boast to have ended his parents' childless state. He cuts a grotesque figure, with his cloak of dried minnows, his wedding party of aquatic animals, and, in one version, the fish intestines and fish oil he uses to adorn his royal bride, instead of marriage beads and butterfat. He is a transformer, creating springs and watering places and knocking over great trees. He greets the emissaries of the legendary savior-king Lugomola Mahe (in the epic ballad, Omuti Muhatd) with great bursts of laughter. Yasheka %amn>ata—"He laughed till it burst him." They had found him on the lake shore dancing. Themes that inform these imagined events seem hyperbolically and ironically to represent an ethics of interchange in a secular royal court. This was the vivid present of precolonial epic ballad performance, where disparate groups met and intermingled—royalty and commoners, courtiers and farmers, travelers and locals. Speech heard at court included regional Haya dialects, the languages of traders and settlers from neighboring societies, allusive rhetoric in

Heroic Society in Interlacustrine Africa

169

formal recitations and in friendly or snide remarks, traditional forms of joking, narrative, and poetry. To all this, Mugasha is a hick, an interloper, a robust champion of iionroyal ethics and noncourtly style. The bard, licensed by the ambiguity of art, sang tales that entertained the gathered audience with images of its own heterogeneous and emergent social organization. Although the peasant-king Mugasha is ascendant in the epics, he is ultimately circumscribed by the military power of Kagolo, Wamara's warrior offspring. Mugasha's final comment thematizes the ethic that enabled the diverse members of the audience to accommodate to one another: the old-fashioned, clan-based reciprocity explicit in Mugasha's proposition/'Whoever hits your eye—you hit his nose."

Mugasha in Myth The Mugasha epic ballad is one of several narratives recounted about the fisher god in Hayaland and neighboring societies. In the Haya myth that corresponds to this epic, Mugasha's unwelcome marriage is resolved differently: at the end, he becomes a servant at the palace of his father-in-law, Wamara, creating the ideological charter for a royal cult that assisted in state building. These charter myths (Lwamgira 1949; Schmidt 1978) come from northern Hayaland, the kingdom of Kiziba, where the ascendance of the kingship over local clans seems to have been most secure and where the cult of Mugasha served, for a time, as part of royal ritual (Schmidt 1978). But the fisher god never accepts subordination in any of the epic versions of the narrative I know. These narrative and thematic differences, of course, are created by the differing contexts of performance in a heterogeneous social field. In a religious narrative tradition infused by state power, performed within palace walls near the cultic practice it affirms, the story of Mugasha acquired (or retained) an ending that thematizes subordination. The Mugasha of bardic tradition occupied a different site in a social field of power relations. Not as tightly bound to royal institutional ideology, the epic ballads were more entertainment than didactic instruction. Its patrons, audiences, and performance sites were both royal and common. In this field the bards could envision a more dynamic narrative equilibrium, one of balance and reciprocity rather than subordination. Contested power in epics mirrors a society in which the state was not entirely secure. While it did control the military, the bureaucracy, and cattleholding, it never gained exclusive or even majority right to distribute prime, plantain-producing, homestead land, in spite of its efforts to create feudal landholdings. Clans by and large controlled ownership of this land through inheritance, and they controlled almost all the intervillage land used for annual

170

The Powers of Genre

crops. Except for the state practice of hypergamy, commoner clan ethics regulated domestic relations and the process of human reproduction. Clan power was clearly circumscribed by the state, and epics reflect this. Clans never triumph conclusively in epics. Rukiza's victories over King Ruhinda are followed by his defeat. And even if Rukiza's sister kills the king in revenge, the kingship will live on, perhaps in the very son the sister bore him. Ruhinda's dynastic line, the Hinda, will rule for centuries, while Rukiza's clan, having lost their land, will wander. Similarly, Mugasha's victory over King Wamara is not the final act. Epic ballads envision a Haya heroic society through the genre-supported creativity of a bard, a privileged performer at royal courts as well as clan weddings and other nonroyal settings. His well-wrought calls draw listeners into a complex moral landscape, and with the literary license his immortalizing talent commanded, he portrays kingship as he knows it: politically dominant, but not hegemonic. Although challenged, it survives, and in the end, it still rules. The world of a Haya audience was not that of the epics, just as the world of sixth-century Athens, where the Iliad w&s performed, was not that depicted by Homer. Heroic ages are literary and ethical constructs by which complex societies contemplate their moral order. As Maclntyre (1981) observes, "classical and Christian societies . . . understood themselves as having emerged from the conflicts of heroic society . . . and defined [themselves] partially in terms of that emergence"(123). For a Haya audience, conflicts between clan and king no longer erupted into military encounters, as they do in epics, but ethical disagreements grounded in the practices of the two institutions were present in Haya society even in the late 1960s when I began my fieldwork. Haya epic themes reproduce these differences.

Comparing Other Genres Proverbs As Mugasha myth and Mugasha epic indicate, genres vary in the way they are instruments and effects of institutional power. Characteristic thematic finalizations reflect variations in the sources and levels of power in a heterogeneous social field. Haya proverbs are less bound than epics to sites in the social field that are infused by the power of particular institutions. They have been useful for clansmen arranging marriages and courtiers conversing learnedly. One can declaim them in open meetings, share them good-naturedly in informal conversation, whisper them conspiratorially, or even say them silently to oneself. Accordingly, they articulate a wide range of ethical knowledge, both supporting and resisting institutional power.

Heroic Society in Interlacustrine Africa

171

Proverbial counterstatements often point ironically to discrepancies between institutional ethics and actual social practice. The proverb, "When the ant kills is when he sees his relatives," whispered to me with a laugh by my principal proverb teacher, Godfrey Ngaiza, could be used to critici2e one's own relatives for acting on the basis of self-interest. It shows how appetites can overturn the ethic;; of kinship. The thematic ratio between present food, present family and absent food, absent family articulates an ethic of kinship that can be deployed conversationally by a man of stature in almost no context at all. The proverbs, "They love the wood; they hate the woodsman" and "The salt is tasty; the Abashomwa (those who gather it) stink," portray the failure of reciprocity in exchange relationships, as many proverbs do. But in both proverbs, the ratio of acts and conditions contrasts acceptance in exchange and rejection in hierarchy: A accepts B in an enactment of exchange, but A rejects B in an enactment of hierarchy. Both proverbs point to a lack of reciprocity, the "external" ethic of clans that purportedly informs relationships with non-clansmen, just as "When the ant kills is when he sees his relatives" questions the "internal" ethic of unconditional solidarity associated with consanguinity.

Folktales

The teller of a Haya folktale usually sits near the hearth, the heart of the household (one of Rukiza's three magical hearts was located directly above), and the center of clan practice. I'blktale discourse is usually thoroughly permeated by clan power. Discussion of the proverbs just cited confirms that inside/outside is an aspect of the ethical knowledge associated with clans. As an absolute distinction, it separates outside, nonclan persons, with whom reciprocal exchange is expected, from inside kin, who can count on help from one another on the basis of family ties. As a relative concept, it is useful in attributing degree of familial closeness and obligation. Not surprisingly, then, inside/outside is the primary dimension on which action occurs in the genetically favored attempted mediation episode in folktales. It locates actual clan boundaries in a small group of tales (Seitel 1980: chapter 8) in which a husband in a time of famine kills his wife's mother or his wife's brother. The victims are outside the husband's clan but people with whom a wife feels strong obligations to share. Their peripheral standing, the scarcity of food, and the husband's shameful gluttony cause their deaths. But the boundaries mediated in tales are more commonly physical—the person, the house, the village, Hayaland—and they stand in analogical relationship

172

The Powers of Genre

to one another and to the social boundaries of clan. These boundaries and the narrative themes articulated at each one fictionalize the kind of institutional knowledge used to judge whether a particular person is included within a relevant kin-defined circle of interest—and therefore whether he or she may marry, inherit, be avenged, or receive assistance and support or other applications of clan power. The boundary of the individual body in folktales is a locus for action that thematizes self-control or its absence in gluttony or lust. Self-control is basic knowledge for acting as a responsible clan member. If not controlled, appetites destroy group solidarity. One overcomes them with perseverance. Loss of selfcontrol in the tales brings failure, separation, shame, and even death. In tales the household boundary provides safety from physical danger and from the prying intelligence of neighbors whose awareness of secret, family affairs could cause shame. Villages were originally founded and organized by particular clans. They are islands of human control. Outside this boundary, animal appetites threaten, and human appetites controlled inside the village may emerge—competition among brothers may become murder; love between brother and sister may become incest. Folktales also represent the ethics of the mother-child relationship. The latter is nonclan in a patrilineal society but is encompassed by clan structures. In the tale of the girl in the leopard's sack discussed earlier, as in most tales, the power of the maternal relationship does not oppose that of clan. But it does in "I Shall Be Drinking From Them," a tale of a mother's defense of her unusual offspring from a father, who wants to avert clan misfortune by expelling the "unnatural wonder" (eihano). But opposition to clan ethics is not frequently thematized in Haya folktales. The ethics of the royal state appear in folktales, accented in ways that reflect the inequality, struggle, and accommodation between clan and king. A young son avenges the royal execution of his father by killing the king responsible for it in the tale, "Lusimbagila Bestows on All." The title comes from a repeated song, which sings of a future reciprocity between royal beneficence—actually, execution of the boy's father—and the boy's revenge: ethical ironies in exchange and in the way manslaughter is situated by the two institutional practices (execution and revenge). In several other tales, the king's advisers (baramata, representatives of commoner clans) repeatedly implore, "Stop killing people!" as kings order the deaths of messengers who bear seemingly unbelievably news. But several plots turn on how—in a series of attempted mediations—a young girl is brought to the palace to marry a prince or a king: a thematic affirmation of hypergamous marriages that accorded semi-royal status to wife-giving subclans. In sum, literary themes can be read tactically as instruments and effects of, or as oppositions to, institutional power that suffuses the point in the social

Heroic Society in Interlacustrine Africa

173

field where genres are regularly performed. The distribution of themes between genres reveals differing outside sources of power and differing degrees of penetration, ranging from a royal charter myth, to a hearthside clan folktale, to a bard's epic ballad, to a whispered proverb. Haya epics thematize ethical conflict between king and clan in the call, a dramatic moment of challenge and choice. Haya folktales represent clan ethics and the motivations that support or subvert them in the attempted mediation episode. Both narrative genres develop knowledge for institutional strategies of role definition, alliance formation, and exercise of coercive force. In Haya proverbs, a semantic ratio formed by parallel and opposed propositions defines themes that serve pragmatic, conversational needs: They can be used to support, oppose, or ignore the ethics of dominant institutions.

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Part !! A Genre-Powered Reading of Kachwenyan/'a

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5 Stanzas Need No Rhyme

In this chapter, the interpretive power of genre is applied inwardly, from the collectivity of classic epic balladry to an individual performance text. Reading outwardly in chapter 4 from genre to social organization revealed the ethical construct known as heroic society. Here, the inward application of genre's power reveals an unexpected and valuable insight: the existence of stanzaic patterns. In applying the power of genre in either direction, the fulcrum that provides interpretive leverage is compositional finalization. Generic plot development provides a supporting framework to an oral performer's creativity by making clear the logical points at which elaboration assists listeners' understanding. Generic plot also keys an audience's engaged imagination: It suggests converging patterns of depicted action and linguistic style that produce textual coherence and aesthetic enjoyment. This chapterbegins, therefore, by observing the association between stylistic usage and narrative plot. As in the study of style in the folktale "Have You Not Seen Luhundu?" interpretive method begins with generically predicted junctures in the text, the local finalizations of compositional elements discovered through Proppian functional analysis. These provide the points of application for a contrastwithin-a-frame analysis that identifies a set of stylistic markers. The distribution of this set of features is then plotted throughout the text in the manner of a concordance. This two-part analysis measures the congruence between generic compositional finalization arid the bard's stylistic usage. It tests our construction of generic plot logic and reveals marked junctures other than those predicted by genre. It also reveals uses for particular features other than those directly related to plot, including the creation of the locally completed stylistic elaborations called stanzaic patterns. In the dialogue between plot and style that begins at compositionally predicted transitions, the bard responds to my analytic construction by indicat177

178

The Powers of Genie

ing through usage his own ideas of aesthetic unities. I believe the best way to represent this dialogue is in the chart in table 5.1, the result of contrastwithin-a-frame and concordance procedures applied at points indicated by a Proppian functional analysis. It indicates the location of every occurrence of the set of stylistic features that occur at compositionally-defined junctures in the text. Each strip of the chart represents about fifty sung lines of Muzee's performance. Apostrophes (') that hold places between numbers represent segments within sung lines that comprise poetic and syntactic units in themselves but are not preceded by pauses, as sung lines are. They are numbered as subunits of sung lines, for example, 6, 6.1, 6.2, 6.3. At the bottom of each strip we note how the performance as a whole is compositionally finalized: the segments of the overall, principal plot and the segments of embedded moves. These divisions correspond to those made in the interpretation of Kachwenyanja's plot in chapter 4. Solid vertical lines mark junctures discovered by Proppian functional analysis. Dotted vertical lines represent additional plot junctures revealed through the concordance method: segments marked by the bard, but unpredicted by my compositional analysis. Occurrences of each feature are indicated by an x, except for those in one row, which follow a key given at the bottom of the chart. In this epic ballad, every transition predicted by generic compositional finalization is clearly marked by the narrator. In addition to those predicted segments, the bard sometimes defines smaller passages: repeated actions that together fulfill a narrative function, a descriptive introduction to an episode's main action, or some other division of a represented action into logical parts. When a feature occurs where there is logically no narrative juncture, it may have a solely descriptive, referential function. The distant past tense of the verb, for example, is often the preferred form for narrative asides, which in themselves may or may not be used to mark a juncture. Sometimes, however, the distant past regulates the narrative flow by creating a contrast in a succession of unmarked verbs, as it does in prose narrative. In epics, some members of the compositionally identified set are used to create stylistic finalizations that are more ornate than necessary to indicate contours of plot. These locally completed forms also involve other elements of style. They will be fully described after the plot-marking function of the features is noted. Analysis reveals that most features can perform two kinds of functions: Referentially, in their literal or conversational sense, they describe aspects of events depicted; metalingually, they act as generic conventions to indicate aspects of the construction of the narrative itself. Most usages combine both functions. Analysis also reveals that the same feature may signal boundaries at

Table 5.1. Line-by-line distribution of stylistic features in Kachwenyanja LINE NUMBERS FEATURES adverbial past perfect distant past double verb locutivc praise other

XX XXX,

X X

X

XX

X

X

X

X X

XXXXXXXXXXX

X

a

XXXX

50

XXXX

aa a

qualify QUALIFY

COMPOSITIONAL SEGMENTS LINE NUMBERS FKATURES adverbial past perfect distant past double verb locutive praise other

10 20 30 40 50 "789 12'34'567'89" 1234'56789' 123456789 123'456789

1'2'3456

' call

travel

prepare

60 70 80 90 100 1234567'89 123'4"56789" 12345'67"89 123456789 12'345678"9

x

x

x x X

X X

xxx

COMPOSITIONAL SEGMENTS

'

xxxxx v

X

XX XX

a

travel QUALIFY

engage (-)

reveal

110 130 120 140 LINE 100 150 1 "234 "567'89 1234 '567 '89 12345 '6789 123456 ',789' 1 '23456 '789 NUMBERS FEATURES x X adverbial >, past perfect X X ; x distant past X ^ x double verb X X x x locutive X <XXX XX praise xxxxxxx XXXX X nnn other COMPOSITIONAL reveal oi»« SEGMENTS QUALIFY CALL PRKPARIi

:

LINE NUMBERS

150

FEATURES adverbial past perfect distant past double verb locutive praise other COMPOSITIONAL SEGMENTS

160 170 180 190 200 123'45'6'789 123"4'56'789' 123456789 123'4'5678'9'" 123456'7'89' x x

x x

x

x x x x

XX

X

x

X

\

XX

X

X

x

>

>;

NX

engage(-)

reveal

rmnn KN C1AGR

,\

x

X

X XX

XXXX

a (-)

x

x X

xxxx

call

x x

a\

engage (+)

T

cj'ty prep engage(-) l tKVFAi,

KEY: other features: n — number sequence, v — vocable, p ~ proverb/saying, a - aside = generically predicted boundary; i — discovered boundary, compositional segments: PRINCIPAL PLOT SEQUENCE; embedded plot sequences

reveal

Table 5.1. continued I.INF. NUMBERS

200

features adverbial past perfect distant past double v.erb locative p raise other

210 220 230 240 250 12'345678'9',1'23456 > 789 123"'4567'89 1'2'3'456789 123'4567'8'9 ' XX

x

x

XX

xx

XX

x

X

XX

X

XXXN XX

COMPOSITIONAL reveal SEGMENTS REVEAL

X

X

XXXX

X

XX

X

XXXXXXX

XX.

XXX

engage (+)

X

call

X

prepare

travel engage(-)

EX GAGE (+\

UNI;. NUMBERS 250 260 270 280 290 300 123456789 12345'6789 123456789 12'3'456789 12345"6'789'" FEATURES adverbial past perfect distant past double verb locutive praise other

^

X

x

X

X

X

xx x v

COMPOSITIONAL SEGMENTS

x x

X

x

XX

X

X

X X

x

XX

XXXXXXXXX

XX

X

aaaa engage (-)' reveal ENGAGE (-f) continu jd

X X

X

X

nnn

a

engage (+)

ONE NUMBERS 300 310 320 330 340 350 123456789 123456'78'9 123456789 1234'56789 12'34567"89 FHATURHS adverbial past perfect distant past double verb locutive praise other

XX X

X

x

X

X

X

XX

X

X X

X X

X

X

X

XX

a

X

X

X

COMPOSITIONAL SHGMKNTS

LINK NUMBERS

X

X

XX

'.\

engage (+) l-:NCiAGh; (+)

350 360 370 380 123456789 123456789 '123456789 12345'

I'liATURUS adverbial past perfect distant; past: double verb. locutive praise other COMPOSITIONAL engage( [-) SHCiMHNTS K N C A C i K (-)-}

XX XX

X

XXX

X

X

xxxx ^

nnnnnnnnnnnn ;ia

X

xx

XX XX

XX

1

COMMENT

KHY tilhcr f'catLirc^: n — number sequence, v ~ vocable, p — proverb/saying, a — aside — genencally predicted boundary; I = discovered boundary, compositional segments: PRINCIPAL, PLOT SFQurNCLi; embedded plot scque-nces

Stanzas Need No Rhyme

181

different levels of organization. And finally, it reveals that most features can be disjunctive or unifying, depending on their usage: e.g., they create disjunction when used singly but conjunction when used in patterned multiples. Metalingually, oral stylistic features simply indicate continuity or transition; logical hierarchies in the plot emerge through generically informed compositional fmalization supplied by performer and audience. This ambiguity and multifunctionality in linguistic usage is an aspect of an aesthetic practice that is rich, complex, necessarily participatory, and in some degree authorially playful.

Verbs and Adverbials The first three recurrent stylistic features noted on the strips in table 5.1 are aspects of verbal syntax, similar to those charted in table 3.5 of the folktale example. In the present analysis, all adverbs and adverbial prefixes are grouped together. As before, only verbs and adverbials used in narration are counted— not those framed as quoted speech. Tenses and adverbials in narration metalingually relate segments of a bard's tale to one another and to the time of performance. When used in quoted speech, these same forms do not refer to temporal contours of the narrative as a whole; rather, they construct frameworks of temporal reference that are centered on individual characters. This quoted speech is encompassed by, and understandable in terms of, the overall framework constructed by the narrative passages. The recent past is the unmarked tense in epic—the one most often used, which adds increments of action to establish a narrative flow. The past perfect tense is generally a strong segment marker. It seems strongest when coupled with the prefix ka- "when" or with separate adverbs such as olwo "when" or mbali "when" or "where." Here the hero completes his farewell to his bride: ". . . . If a small leaf should fall before you, Say this: 'If he did not make the first strike, surely he made the kill.' I go to war, the Buffalo." When he reached Lugongo field, He took the road . . . (148—152)

As in prose storytelling, this usage interrupts the narrative flow, pausing both to reflect and to anticipate. The bard notes an accumulation of significance at the same time he impels the hearers' attention forward to another verb, which often moves the tale in a new direction. The past perfect tense is a frequently used marker. No other feature marks as many plot transitions. Yet its very first occurrence, on line 35, clearly does

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The Powers of Genre

not begin or end a narrative segment. When first encountered, the power of this feature helps finalize not plot but a local stylistic figure. Its strength as a marker can be seen in the fact that all thirty-nine occurrences of adverbials and/or past perfect tense have metalingual significance (including the poetic use on line 35). The distant: past, used to indicate a topic's greater remove from the present in conversation, often refers in epic narration to the gap between performance and depicted action. Its significance makes the distant past the preferred tense for asides. Addressing his audience outside the narrative frame, the bard may use the tense purely referentially to reassert the remoteness of epic events and comment directly on a character's temperament or on other topics that clarify depicted action (12, 12.1, 14, 75, 176). Of these, only the use on line 75 is unequivocally purely referential. In the midst of the hero's journey: In Kamachumu village at fvlilama —It hadn 't yet become a town— I went Toward the spring at Kamilabala . . .

The other counted usages have some metalingual, or discourse-shaping, force. When an aside occurs at or near a point of narrative transition, its use combines referential and metalingual functions (as in 8, 184.1, 301, 303). When used metalingually, the relatively weak distant past often occurs together with other markers. It creates a juncture in the narrative flow to begin compositional segments in six instances (78 and 80, 105, 164.1, 275, 289) and to finalize them in five (107.1, 114, 141, 153.1, 155). Two of its occurrences seem purely for the purpose of finalizing a local stylistic pattern (47 and 52). Double verb syntax characterizes a line beginning with, or consisting solely of, two verbs without intervening nouns or adverbials. Infrequently (two of the fifteen occurrences) the bard adds a single substantive to complete the sung line. Often (eight of the fifteen) the next line also begins with a verb, creating a longer figure: three contiguous verbs, the second separated from the third by a pause. Useful in condensing and speeding the flow of narrative action, the double verb syntax sometimes also appears in folktales. Double verbs mark compositional segments at the beginning or less frequently at the end (20-21, 105-106, 154, 159, 167, 174-175, 176.1, 201-202, 247, 262, 288, 304, 332, 344). The following example combines double verb syntax with a distant past verb ("obliged") and a number sequence to mark the hero's internal narration of the beginning of the epic's principal call: / obliged, I married her. I secluded her four days.

On the fifth . . .(105-107: in Haya the first line consists of only two words) The bard Muzee also uses double verbs to create stanzaic form, as in the fol-

Stanzas Need No Rhyme

183

lowing two stanzas. Although the figures vary in their total number of lines, the first two lines in each are formed as double verb followed by initial verb, as in the example directly above. The passage is part of the heroine's internal narrative of murderous revenge: I obliged; 1 washed his feet. I served food; we ate. I rubbed him with oil. He lay completely down. 1 lay down, I followed him.

I revealed to him the grasshopper That has waves like a lake. (304-309) Double verb syntax apparently always performs a rnetalingual function. The locutive is similar to a verb in that this form has a subject prefix. But unlike a verb, it has no inflections to indicate tense, mood or aspect; for example, nti "I say," oti "you say," ati "he/she says," bati "They say," eti "it (the leopard) says," guti "it (the tree) says," etc. Using a locutive seems an optional way to introduce a character's quoted speech. Its optionality makes it a useful rnetalingual tool in articulating patterns. Used disjunctively, the locutive accents beginnings and endings of plot segments. The first occurrence of a locutive in the text, corning after seven lines of quoted speech, signals the transition between the hero's dream-sent call to find another wife and his preparation for travel: "I dreamed of marrying. Of marrying the woman, Crested crane. I took her from the foot of a mountain." Pie said, "When morning comes, my wife, Scour out my drinking calabash for me." She scoured it near to breaking . . (27-31)

Used in several adjacent lines, locutives unify a compositional segment or stanzaic passage. For example, here is part of the heroine's response to the news of the hero's death, in lines that can be construed as a figure composed of a pair of couplets whose lines all begin with locutives, completed by a single line. She said, "My child, break open the provisions," She said, "And the coffee berries scatter." She said, "Scatter, scatter!" She said, "Scatter. From inside me I am driven to revenge." (228—231.1)

The locutive is used metalingually in fifty-five of its sixty-five occurrences. Used purely refereiitially, locutives sometimes emphasize the association between a speaker and his or her quoted speech. Six of the ten purely referential

184

The Powers of Genre

uses seem wholly and markedly to create this characterizing effect: 91 and 123 (the heroine's wise responses), 177 (the hero's battlefield boast), 210 (the honest stranger's revelation), 247 (heroine's loyal address), 250.1 (a desirous proposal). Two (132 and 140) seem to be mistakes, possibly the singer's own error or perhaps his characterization of a protagonist's prebattle nervousness. The two remaining apparently nonmetalingual uses (57 and 322) are the only locutives in the text that occur in nonimtial position on a line. They may be instances of characterization, but this is not clear to me. A strong marker, having metalingual significance in 85 percent of its occurrences, the locutive can stand alone to mark a plot juncture.

Other Elements in Bardic Style Praise poetry is central to the style, theme, and plot of Kachwenjanja. Praise verses (eby'ebugd) lyrically introduce and conclude the epic as a whole. Praise shapes the plot not only in the sense that the hero's eby'ebugo eerily foreshadows his unlucky fate but also in that the heroine seeks the killer by inveigling enemy warriors to recite their self-praise. Including opening and closing lines, about three-quarters of the occurrences of praise have metalingual significance (multiple, contiguous lines of praise are counted as a single occurrence). The thematic and compositional dimensions of praise in Kachwe-nyanja are taken up in chapter 6 (in this volume). Number sequences—like the one that introduces the principal call (106— 107.1) "I secluded her four days./ On the fifth . . ./ On the sixth ..." — occur four times in this text (106-107.1, 159-162, 289-291, 360-370.1). Each occurrence marks the beginning of a generically predicted compositional unit. Asides and vocables seem to have relatively weak metalingual strength. When they do mark compositional units, they are part of a cluster of features. Only one proverb occurs, and it is also part of a cluster. After all the markers that were identified by contrast within a frame at compositional junctures have been plotted, and after the loci of achieved compositional finalizations have been confirmed, adjusted, or amended to include unpredicted narrative junctures, there is a remainder of unexplained uses. Even the strongest markers sometimes appear far from predicted narrative transitions, in contexts where they neither shape the plot nor convey a marked referential meaning. Double verb syntax, for example, which has no referential meaning in itself and signals compositional transitions in eighteen of its occurrences, occurs seven more times. This excess of style revealed by a deductive, compositionally informed method is the critical irritant around which a pearl of discovery has formed: stanzaic pattern.

Stanzas Need No Rhyme

185

Style to Spare: Nonphonetic Stanzaic Patterns Once stanzaic patterns are pointed out, they seem obvious. I have shown them to several indigenous Haya experts—including an epic ballad singer, a cultural historian, a bible translator, and a literary scholar—and all agree: They are obvious. But despite the fact that many had listened to, transcribed, translated, and even analyzed the epic ballads, none had seen these poetic patterns. I myself did not begin to see them until I performed the deductive analysis of style that begins at compositional boundaries. And when one sees stanzaic patterns formed with the strong metalingual markers—past perfect tense combined with adverbials, double verb syntax—the poetic function of other features emerges as well. Ultimately, one finds the same kinds of patterns formed with lexical and semantic features, in addition to the predominantly syntactic markers first identified. It turns out that most of Kachwenyanja is composed in poetic stanzas. These stylistic frnalizations at the local level—repeated patterns formed by contrast and similarity between lines—are characteristic of all the classic Haya epic ballads. But part of what makes them difficult to recognize is the fact that they differ radically from European, Arabic, and Swahili stanzas, in which phonetic features create syllabic rhyme and meter. Haya epic stanzas are created with nonphonetic features—lexical repetition, syntactic parallelism, and semantic contrast. Then why call them stanzas at all, these products of such a different poetic practice? These discrete, coherent line groups are stanzas because they regularly form a limited number of stylistic figures and also because, like all stanzas, they frame novel content in recurrent poetic patterns. That stanzas exist at all in sub-Saharan African epic poetry is relatively rare. And stanzaic forms based on nonphonetic features are even more rare. Cope (1968) reports poetic forms he calls "Shakan stanzas," which had a brief florescence in Zulu Izibongo praise poetry. He does not analyze the devices that create these stanzas, but a cursory glance seems to indicate that they are constructed at least somewhat similarly to the Haya. Finnegan (1977) notes the existence in African poetry of parallelism between lines and the similarity of these patterns to biblical verse, but she does not report any instance of lines associated by these principles being formed into stanzas. Biblical criticism has developed a rich literature on parallelism but has not discovered, to my knowledge, any recurrent, multiline patterns formed by similarity and contrast between parallel lines. Critical commentary on African epic has mostly remained within the paradigm of formulaic composition (Lord 1960), which focuses its analysis on lexical repetition in the sung line rather than a variety of features in groups of lines. Examples of this are Johnson's study of the Son-jara epic (1986) and

186

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Opland's (1983) on Xhosa oral poetry. Okpewho's survey of the epic in Africa (1979) employs the concept of oral formula as a "verbal matrix" but does not treat its expansion into stanzaic form. The present approach is closest to that of Kunene's (1971) analysis of Basoto heroic poetry in attending to interlinear parallelism in lexicon, syntax, and semantics.

Stanzaic Types in Haya Epic Balladry The following principles describe the formation of stanzas in classic epic ballads. They specify, respectively, (1) the kinds of linguistic elements that are manipulated to create poetic figures, (2) the shapes of figures I have identified, and (3) the devices bards use that create stylistic variation within these shapes. 1. Stanzas are formed by combinations of noiiphonetic features.

2. Stanzas seem to have six principal shapes. 3. Stanzas vary within these shapes by virtue of three syntactic devices: 1. interpolation of words

2. interpolation of lines 3. extrapolation of shape, which creates ascending levels of organization: 1. stanza

2. compound stanza 3. verse 4. verse passage

1. Combinations of nonpboneticfeatures. In Kachwenyanja, the bard creates stanzas with lexical repetition, syntactic parallelism, and semantic opposition, employed singly or in combination. Moreover, in contrast to a writer of quantitative verse, who combines rhyme and meter to follow a single stanzaic type throughout an entire poem, the Haya bard creates a variety of types in a variety of ways within a single poem. 2. Stanzaic shapes. Six stanzaic types are represented in this version of Kachwenyanja: aab, abb, aba, abab (with related shapes abac and abcb), aabb, and a "mirror" shape, in which the configuration of features in one coherent line group is replicated in another immediately or proxinially following it. In stanzaic patterns of aab, abb, aba, abab, or aabb, a's are associated with other a's and opposed to b's by combinations of syntactic, lexical and semantic features. 3. Syntactic deuces. Three syntactic devices help the bard integrate his narrative and poetic designs by adjusting stanzaic forms to strengthen story lines, provide evocative details, and create dramatic contours in the narrative. The devices are called syntactic in that each of the three manipulates relationships between adjacent segments. Each does so at a different level of textual organization—word, line, and passage. For the bard, the three devices adapt poetic

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figures to the narrative thrust: of epic. For the critic, the devices introduce greater variation in the concrete expression of stanzaic shapes. 3.1. Interpolation of words adds extra words to a poetic line beyond those necessary to form a particular stanzaic pattern. Nonquantitative verse and flexible line length make this formally possible. Interspersed among the key words and phrases that define stanzaic pattern, interpolated words may indicate affect, reveal necessary details, embellish or emphasize a topic, or even create a contrapuntal pattern. In the following excerpt the hero's -widow expresses her consternation and grief. Using semantic contrast, lexical repetition, and syntactic parallelism, the bard creates a stanza in abab. 221 Ahi, "Bakama bange!" 222 Ahi, "Nkas' obulo— 223 Abakayy has' obulo, 223.1 Bakama bange— 223.2 Ntula alia Iwazi, 223.3 Ns'amalnap!" 224 Ahi, "Beko/a omuba^i. 225 Kilo ckya mbwenu nayekola Onnvabya! 221 She said, "My kings!" 222 She said, "1 ground millet— 223 Women grind millet, 223.1 My kings— 223.2 But I sir at. I he rocky outcrop, 223.3 I grind sorcery F' 224 She said, "They 'do' themselves with herbs (perfume). 225 But today / 'did' myself with the Destroyer! (herb for sorcery) schematically: Women gnnd millet/1 grind sorcery/ They 'do* themselves with herbs/ 1 'did' myself with the Desrroyer

Only the words in italics formulate the abab stanza itself. The others are interpolated to increase the richness of the figure (223.2) and the portrayal of the wife's disturbed state. The first group of lines, 221—223.3, including the interpolated words, actually form a compound stanza; see the notes to the text. 3.2. Interpolation of lines adds poetic lines equivalent in type to those that form a stanza; it is simply the reiteration of line types. For example, aab appears as aaab in the following. 18 Mbali ekibi kigendela, 19 Mbali omuntu akabila atahimbuuke, 19.1 Mbali omulungi abuganganilwa ondijo, 19.2 Mbali ohulila omu kikale bagwihya bwoli . . .

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18 When evil roams, 19 When a person faints and does not revive, 19.1 When one lover meets another, 19.2 When you hear them in the royal mansion finally disperse . . . (18-19.2) This stanza is formed in aab by contrast between three syntactically parallel lines, which are composed as adverbial conjunction + noun + 3rd person verb . . . (a's: 18, 19, 19.1) and a single line which is composed as adverbial conjunction + 2nd person verb + prepositional phrase . . . (b: 19.2). The stanzaic grouping changes quantitatively but not qualitatively with the interpolation of a similar line. In a like manner, a stanza composed as aaba (354-57) can be seen as a variant: of aba; a stanza in ababbbb (373-79) as a variant of abab. Stanzaic forms most frequently appear in these expanded configurations. Interpolated words and line types give oral stanzaic patterns the flexibility die bard needs to construct his epic narrative. 3.3. Extrapolation of shape creates stanzaic patterns at more inclusive levels of organization. Groups of lines, rather than single lines, combine to form passages. Extrapolation of stanzaic shape creates local stylistic wholes larger than stanzas; these can be called compound stanzas, verses, and verse passages. 3.3.1. A stanza is composed by similarity and contrast between poetic lines. An epic ballad line can be defined in two ways: musically, as the words sung between pauses, and poetically, as a string of words that coheres with similar strings in stylized patterns. Poetic lines usually contain a complete syntactic unit; they can stand alone as sung lines, and often do. But sometimes several poetically defined lines arc sung without pause; thus, one musically defined line may contain several syntactic units. To my knowledge, there is no indigenous Haya critical tradition that names a poetic line and specifies its formation. The first five poetic lines of Kachtvenyanja are a stanza in aab. They are a portion of the hero's self-praise (eby'ebugo) used to introduce him. 1 Gwa Nsheshe akaluga Kailongo. 1.1 Luhunga akaluga Mugajwaale. 2 Luhunga, Mugajwaale, 2.1 Kakolonto na Kabwenge. 2.2 OH w' ehitalaaka by' eilungu. 1 By the road to Nsheshe, he came from Kailongo. 1.1 In Luhunga, he came from Mugajwaale. 2 Luhunga, Mugajwaale, 2.1 Kakolonto and Kabwenge. 2.2 You are of the unbroken wilderness. The contrast between lines containing two place names (a's: 1, 1.1, 2, 2.1) and one containing a single place description (b: 2.2) creates an aab figure,

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actually aaaab, the basic pattern having been expanded by interpolating similar lines. The unique second-person verb in the last line, "You are . . ." intensities the finalization syntactically. In the changes he will ring on these opening lines, the bard provides a primer on the artistic extrapolation of poetic form.. At particularly important junctures in the epic, stylistic elaborations may flower in a rich simultaneity of stanzaic shapes and even levels of organization. These intensely wrought passages are like architectural forms that, seen from different angles, reveal contrasting symmetries, but they are really more like polyrhythmic drumming that combines contrasting patterns in a single, complex whole. In the following extract the same semantic series of the opening lines becomes embedded in syntactic parallelism of a different sort. The hero's poetic praise uncannily begins to emerge in narrative action as royal drums summon him: 108 109 110 111 112 113

MpuliT Mpulil' MpuliT Mpulil' Mpulil' Mpulil'

108 109 110 111 112 113

I I I I I I

hear hear hear hear hear hear

engom* ezayema Nsheshe. ezayema Kailongo. eza Luhunga. eza Mugajwaale. eza Kakolonto na Kabwenge. ezayema omu bitalaaka by' eilungu.

drums that start up at Nsheshe. those that start up at Kailongo. those of Luhunga. those of Mugajwaale. those of Kakoronto and Kabwenge. those that start up in the unbroken wilderness.

In a group of lines that all begin "I hear," and in counterpoint to the semantic series that, as before, describes a pattern of aab in place names finalized by a place description, syntactic parallelism creates a stanza in aba. The form is realized as aabbba, having been expanded by the interpolation of equivalent, syntactically parallel lines. Each line of the type a (108, 109, 113) contains a verb inflected as a relative (e^a-yema, "that: start: up") in a clause that qualifies the direct object "drums." Each line of type b (110, 111, 112) contains an inflected possessive particle (e%a, "of") that also qualifies "drums." Alternation of syntax creates the aba pattern. In the passage that immediately follows this one, other repeated verbs inflected as relatives create another pattern of aba. 3.3.2. A compound stanza is composed by similarity and contrast between groups of lines. In a compound stanza, adjacent line groups combine to form a pattern (most often aab). In this they differ from stanzas, which combine individual lines, not groups, as their smallest units. In the following passage, the hero addresses a part of his self-praise (eby'ebugo) to his prospective bride:

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99 "Maawc, omwaitu ni Nsheshe. 100 Maawe, omwaitu ni Kailongo. 101 Nkaluga Luhunga na Mugajwaale. 101.1 Nkaluga Kakolonto na Kabwenge. 101.2 Ndi mwaana w' ebitalaaka by' eilungu. 99 "Mother (polite address), our home is Nsheshe. 100 Mother, our home is Kailongo. 101 I come from Luhunga and Mugajwaale. 101.1 I come from Kakolonto and Kabwenge. 101.2 I am a child of the unbroken wilderness. The stanza that opens the epic ballad (the example in 3.3.1, above) has been transformed into a compound stanza formed in aab; its lines are grouped as 2 + 2 + 1 . The a's that form the aab pattern are couplets. The first one (99—100), coheres by repetition ("Mother, our home is . . ."), which creates a parallel syntactic function (predicate nominative) for the single place name in each Line. The second couplet (101—101.1) also coheres by repetition ("I come from . . ."), which creates a parallel syntactic function (direct object in the Haya) for the two place names in each line. The final line (101.2) lacks place name, parallelism, and paired companion. It stands alone. In this compound stanza, the a's contrast with b by virtue of these lexical and syntactic features. 3.3.3. A. verse is composed by similarity and contrast between groups of lines, some of which are stanzas in themselves. A verse resembles the compound stanza in that its smallest combinatory unit is a group of lines, but it differs in that some of its units—the recurrent ones, like the a's in aba—are necessarily stanzas. The figure marks the beginning of the epic: 1 Gwa Nsheshe akaluga Kailongo. 1.1 Luhunga akaluga Mugajwaale. 2 Luhunga, Mugajwaale, 2.1 Kakolonto na Kabwenge. 2.2 Oli w' ebitalaaka by' eilungu. 3 4 5

Nsheshe. Eky' amaino kwela, Bngino zamwilagwlle.

6 Akaluga Nsheshe na Kailongo. 6.1 Luhunga akaluga Mugajwaale, 6.2 Kakolonto na Kabwenge. 6.3 Oli mwana w' ebitalaaka by' eilungu. 1 By the road to Nsheshe, he came from Kailongo. 1.1 In Luhunga, he came from Mugajwaale. 2 Luhunga, Mugajwaale,

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Kakolonto and Kabwerigc. You are of the unbroken wilderness. Nsheshe. Of the white teeth, Dark gums.

6 lie came from Nsheshe and Kailongo. 6.1 In Luhunga he came from from Mugajwaale, 6.2 Kakolonto and Kabwenge. 6.3 You are a child of the unbroken wilderness. The first two sung lines, discussed previously as an example of a stanza in aab, are substantially repeated in lines 6-6.3, where they are sung in one breath instead of two. Three lines intervene between repetitions; thus the entire passage can be considered a verse in the pattern aba. The intervening lines (3—5) themselves form a stanza in abb: two lines composed (in Haya) as body part + color modifier (b's: 4, 5) contrasted with one line that consists of a familiar place name (a: 3). Closer examination reveals even greater complexity. The first five poetic lines can be seen as a compound stanza formed in aab and grouped as 2 + 2 + 1. Two pairs of lines (a's: 1—1.1 and 2—2.1)—the first pair almost identically composed as place name + "he came from" + place name, the second pair as place name + place name—are contrasted with a single line (b: 2.2) that has an entirely different syntax. The bard's mercurial talent creates involuted poetic ambiguities with the flexibility of generic stanzaic form. Initial lines of epic ballads are often stylistically complex. 3.3.4. Verse passages are composed of similarity and contrast between a number of line groups which are substantially repeated and incrementally varied. The line groups are not necessarily stanzas, although they may be. The processes of repetition, variation, and alternation create stanzaic patterns. The following excerpt illustrates the abab pattern in a verse passage. The heroine, having just learned of her husband's death, reacts to the news, prepares to exact revenge, and travels to the site of his death. She gives orders to her domestic slave: 228 Ahi, "Mwaana wange entaiida yata," 229 Ahi, "N' emwani onage." 230 Ahi, "Naganaga" 231 Ahi, "Naga. 231.1 Enda yangila kwehoola." 232 Ati, "Omushaija wange yafa all omoi, 232.1 Kyonka aligitwalanis' omwenda. 233 Ontege ekishule. 233.1 Mbe mwisiki."

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234 Ahi, "Cheke Mawe wakayukile. 235 Oleke nkuteme enkogoto. 236 Okwate oluhimbo Iwawe Kalamaijo." 237 238 239 240

Ati, "Ogesige kiizi," Ati, "Ogesige kiizi," Ati, "Empu zikukwate." Ati, "Tugende Ihangiro kwehoola."

241 Ahi, "Yafa ali omoi." 242 Ati, "Omushaija alitwalana n' omwenda." [slight interruption] 243 Ahi, "Yafa ali omoi. 243.1 Ihangiro agitwalanise omwenda." 244 Kanagobile omu Lugongo, 245 Mbali omushaija bamwitiile, 246 Nahenda ekiti. 247 Naslga nakimujugunyaho. 247.1 Nti, "Mushaija wange nasiga naziika. 248 Kyonka wafa oli omoi, 248.1 Ihangiro ngitwalanis' omwendai." 228 She said, "My child, the bundle, break it open,' 229 She said, "And the coffee berries scatter." 230 She said, "Scatter, scatter them!" 231 She said, "Scatter them. 231.1 From inside me I am driven to revenge." 232 She said, "My man died as one, 232.1 But with him he'll send nine. 233 Shave a line around my head. 233.1 I'll be a young woman." 234 She said, "No, Mother, you've matured. 235 Let me cut a full circle. 236 Take your walking staff, the Prattling-one." 237 238 239 240

She said, "Rub butterfat on like water," She said, "Rub butterfat on like water," She said, "And make your leather skirt cling." She said, "We go to Ihangiro for revenge."

241 She said, "He died as one." 242 She said, "The man will take nine with him." [slight interruption] 243 She said, "He died as one. 243.1 In Ihangiro may he send nine."

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244 When I had come to Lugongo, 245 The place they had killed my man, 246 I broke off a twig. 247 I cast it on him. 247.1 I said, "My husband, I leave you buried. 248 Although you died as one, 248.1 In Ihangiro I'll make nine go with you."

This verse passage contains four stanzaic figures: one simple stanza (237— 240) and three compound stanzas (228-231.1, 233-236, and 244-247.1). All are aab in form. Lines that become the heroine's self-praise punctuate the section three times. First (232—232.1), the lines follow the compound stanza in which the heroine destroys her dead husband's food, symbolically breaking their worldly relationship. Second (243—243.1), they follow the stanzas in -which the heroine constructs her new social persona. Third (248—248.1), they follow the heroine's symbolic act of burial. Together the repeated line pairs shape a verse passage as abcbdb, of the general pattern abab, in which b represents the heroine's repeated self-praise. The four levels of stanzaic patterning—stanza, compound stanza, verse, and verse passage—involve more than three-fourths of the total number of poetically defined lines in Muzee's Kachwenyanja. Most contiguous lines in this text cohere with one another, about 392 of a total 470, a number that includes lines grouped by double verb syntax and by number sequences. These patterns share a metanarrative function with stylistic usages that indicate compositional logic more directly (those treated in the first part of this chapter): stanzaic groupings also mark junctures between most of the generically anticipated plot developments. And predictably, plot junctures almost never fall within a stanzaic pattern. In only three instances, all of them within verse passages, does this occur. Far from being exceptions that weaken the association between plot and style, these three confirm that a bard can use stanzaic patterns, like other stylistic forms, to trace the contours of compositional finalization in narrative. The verse passage of the type abab (fully described schematically as abcbdb, 228—248.1) discussed just previously, is clearly split between two compositional segments. The final pair of alternations between repeated praise couplets (b's) and other line groups (a,c,d)—the db of abcbdb—describes the travel sequence of the heroine's revenge move, engage (equilibrium). The first part of the verse passage (the abcb of abcbdb) fully constitutes the preceding compositional component—the prepare sequence of the same move. The plot juncture between them is strongly confirmed by doubled adver-

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bials and past perfects. This unusual repetition of markers signals the beginning of the compositional unit (travel) and introduces an emotional high point, the heroine's initial address to the hero's corpse; the identical form also introduces her final address to him (358, 359). Thus, grammar emphatically signals a juncture in plot within a stanzaic form that contrapuntally asserts the unity of the passage as a whole. Does the unity created by poetic form represent a structure deeper than the plot juncture created by grammatical form? The answer seems to be yes. The verse passage as a whole is a thematic unit, a single configuration of semantic elements in the temporal thematic structure, which is described in the next chapter. Grammatical style marks the expected generic plot, but poetic style indicates an underlying thematic unity. Another verse passage that spans compositional components (249—283) consists of formulaic descriptions of the heroine's search and final discovery of her husband's killer. Incremental repetitions move the narrative from unsuccessful encounters to ultimate revelation. Similarly worded line groups describe a series of unsuccessful exchanges (a's), which are finalized by an initially similar but ultimately divergent revelation (b), forming an overall pattern of the type aab. Although the poetic figure spans a compositional juncture, contrast between a's and b heightens the narrative force of the revelation. The final example, also of the aab type, coheres by virtue of a refrain— lines 150, 158, 164, and 173—with a shared, marked phrase structure: 3rd person verb + subject praise name. In the first three (a's) the praise name is "Buffalo"; in the fourth and final one (b), it is "Spear of Warriors." Lexical variation within the repeated syntactic form establishes the aab pattern. The verse passage itself spans several compositional segments, and remarkably, each refrain finalizes one of them. The first three mark end points of consecutive components - the hero's preparations for departure (150, PREPARE), his taunting call on the battlefield (158, call in ENGAGE [disequilibrium]), and his initially victorious encounters (164, engage [disequilibrium] in ENGAGE [disequilibrium]). The final refrain (173) marks the apex of the hero's career, the end of the exchange that occurs just before his death (a discovered unit within engage [disequilibrium] in ENGAGE [disequilibrium]). Refrains complete compositional components as they create a verse passage. Here as previously, poetic and narrative talents converge in the bard's authoritative and stylish punctuation of plot. Like other elements of speech style, then, stanzaic patterns follow compositional junctures. But unlike other stylistic elements, stanzaic patterns embellish the narrative with elaborate, recurrent figures. Their ornamental function leads one to consider whether—like songs in Haya folktales or proverbs in good conversation—stanzaic patterns not only mark important boundaries but also foreground the parts of an utterance that are thematically dominant.

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The association between stanzaic elaboration and principal calls is not exclusive, and it is difficult to measure the degree of their correlation within the genre as a whole. But favored episodes in Kachwenyanja do seem to have a concentration of poetic form not present elsewhere. This is most true for the principal call, but other calls also receive special poetic treatment: the dream that summons the hero to seek a new wife, the warrior's battlefield taunts, and the wife's response to the news of the warrior's death. This elaboration suggests the bard stylistically marks the episodes in which central themes emerge. One should not take these supple shapes formed by binary contrasts or their categorization into stanzas, compound stanzas, verses, and verse passages for a rigid, canonical system of nonphonetic versification. As noted earlier, I am unaware of an indigenous critical tradition that names lines or their patterned combinations. The terms are rather critical tools useful for differentiating, understanding, and appreciating levels of stylistic patterning. Like a carpenter's jig or a tool a mechanic fashions to work on a particular engine, the terms fit the job at hand. They are not wholly emic categories, but they are not wholly etic either. In this chapter, patterns of generic compositional finalization calibrated contrast-within-a-frame and concordance analyses to illuminate artistic style in Muzee's performance of Kachwenyanja. This process isolated an "excess" of stylistic usage, the central clue to finding unexpected harmonies—the achievements of a robust and skilled poet and of the tradition to which his work contributes. In the following chapter, generic composition provides similar interpretive guidance for an approach to theme.

6 Significance Needs Time

Themes are both instruments and effects of epic performance, shaping equally the work of invention and that of understanding. Themes are to narration what knowledge is to institutional practice: that which guides and is created by characteristic practical strategies. This chapter explores the strategies used by the bard and the kinds of significance he creates with them.

Atemporal and Temporal Thematic Coherence in Kachwenyanja Themes form atemporal and temporal patterns in narrative. In the former, thematic coherence takes the shape of a system of culturally specific, abstract categories which define the world created by genre-focused imagination. These categories include contours of the social landscape, communicative codes, cultural values, and, most important, different roles or social standings: wives, warriors, and kings. This kind of knowledge is developed by bardic practice but also by institutions whose power infuses the site of the bard's performance. The defining categories and dimensions of atemporal thematic coherence do not change over the course of depicted action, although the way characters are described by them often does change. Nyakaandalo, for example, an already-married woman, becomes a warrior's wife and then an already-married-woman-warrior-wife. This atemporal aspect is the kind of theme apprehended by "structural" approaches like that of Levi-Strauss and the functionalist varieties like that of Beidelman. Elements in this kind of structure relate to one another through such abstract operations as negation, opposition, and analogy. This kind of thematic finalization is akin to that in proverbs: fashioning an abstract, metaphorical fit between depicted imaginary events and recurring situations in a particular social structure. Thematic finalization articulates cul196

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tural values, although its representation of them may not be direct. In epic ballads, this atemporal thematic structure represents a rhetoric of praise and disparagement, which emerges as an analogy between four groups of episodes—approximately in the manner of Levi-Strauss's construction of the Oedipus myth. The second kind of thematic coherence creates, and in a sense embodies, time in narrative. If time is perceived by all persons, not as measured ticks on a clock but as interwoven "structures of care," in which an instant is for us the sum of stages in the various processes of living in which we are involved, then, as Ricoeur suggests, temporal thematic coherence in narrative models this knowledge of being. A character's "cares" at any moment—the sequences of activity he or she is involved in knowingly or unknowingly—depict one fraction of that moment in narrative time, the remainder being composed of the other characters with their cares. These cares represent practical, ethical, and emotional knowledge, and characters' ongoing involvements can be seen to create abstract frameworks that articulate temporal thematic patterns and finalizations. Incorporating the unchanging semantic features of atemporal themes, temporal thematic structure develops by repeated comparisons between characters whose semantic make-up changes because of actions they have wrought, suffered, or witnessed. Characters' accrued significance frames episodes. This frame may be continually changing, it may remain constant for a while, or different aspects of it may change and remain constant at the same time. Temporal thematic structure emerges from successive redistributions of constant symbolic functions among a triad of characters—approximately in the manner of Turner's construction of the Oedipus myth. Finalizations of temporal theme occur at three levels of organization—single episodes, groups of episodes, and the narrative as a whole—thereby creating intuitively coherent chunks of story. These may or may not correspond exactly to the grouping of episodes defined by generic composition. Kachwenyanja's death, for example, concludes one such intuitive chunk, and it frames the entire second half of the epic, creating a partition embodied in the change of protagonist from hero to heroine. But in the hierarchy of compositional logic, the entire second half is parallel to the hero's death on the battlefield; it is a re-engagement with the same antagonist that produces equilibrium. These overlapping logics increase the density of the ballad's aesthetic affect. The semantic weight of the hero's death creates a large thematic division in an intuitive reading of the narrative. Such visceral interpretations surely depend on the bard's dramatic ability to create passionate, life-like characters within the abstract world of genre. To be worth its salt, our genre-centered approach must appreciate this talent as well. Explicating theme, in fact, would seem to be the ultimate test of my inter-

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pretive approach. One must be able to point clearly to patterns of significance in a work, and one must show that the selection of elements for these patterns was made according to a rational, or at least consistent set of operational principles. Generic composition once again provides an objective, specifically tailored, methodological framework. Explicating theme means revealing what is implied, and, to say the least, critics often disagree about the unspoken patterns of significance in particular actions. An approach must able to demonstrate the collective, social basis of the intuitions revealed and make a good case for their being in the minds of participants in a performance. Generic composition provides this interpretive foundation also. Hnally, just like single words, narrated actions articulate semantic significance through comparisons—with other actions in the text or with those in the real world of social events. The possible sources for thematic comparison being within or outside a particular narrative and the complex and sometimes ambiguous articulation of themes could make recognizing and understanding them difficult and sorting out their hierarchies and other structures even more so. But here again, compositional logic guides interpretation. In narrative genres, this logic proceeds toward and then away from the favored episode—in epics, the call—in which thematically central events occur. The elements that create this type of episode recur from epic to epic: a caller, an addressee, institutionally related ethical knowledge, richly symbolic acts, and marked rhetorical forms. Together they create a paradigm, an interpretive template for understanding major themes, which is useful for all items in the genre. This recurrent form keys an audience's critical expectations to the acts that articulate significant contrasts. It turns out that the call paradigm conforms and is useful in interpreting almost all episodes in classic epics, not only those that motivate and frame complete narrative moves. This patterned fit is unexpected and uncanny at first, but a moment's reflection sees that the same kind of thematic template exists, say, for Hollywood westerns, in which many episodes can best be understood as ancillary confrontations or contests of will leading up to or away from a principal showdown. The accuracy and utility of the episodeto-episode fit of a generic paradigm can be judged in the analysis found in this chapter. Theme-articulating contrasts in call and call-like episodes are formally discovered through a distinctive feature analysis of their elements. This arrays them on a limited number of semantic dimensions, just as was done for the elements in attempted mediation episodes in the folktales in chapter 3. The dimensions are akin to those that define quality spaces in componential analysis of kinship terms or in linguistic distinctive feature analysis of phonemes. But there are major differences. The set of dimensions that

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defines elements in a thematic paradigm are not as uniform as those that describe genealogical relationships or the articulation of meaningful sounds. Unlike kin terms or phonemes, narrative elements represent a variety of kinds of cultural knowledge, and the dimensions that describe them reflect this diversity. Moreover, because a narrative episode is exponentially more complex in its semantic make-up than are kin terms or phonemes, it does not make sense to pursue a goal of fully differentiating the episodes one from the other, as a more elegant distinctive feature analysis would do. But although this analyses does not identify a rigorously uniform and fully definitive set of dimensions, it does reveal dimensions that are fairly consistent throughout the episodes of a text, accounting for one aspect of thematic coherence. This approach to theme, like structuralism, treats each narrative episode as a bundle of semantic features that can be systematically identified. The present use of distinctive feature analysis differs from structuralism in situating the method within a framework of particular historical genres: Analysis of compositional finalization precedes its use, determines its selection of elements, and interprets their thematic content with a template formed by the favored episode type of the genre. The results of distinctive feature analysis and the identification of atemporal themes inform a subsequent analysis of temporal thematic finalization, a dimension absent by definition from most structuralist approaches. In addition to atemporal finalization, which constructs an abstract, generic representation of the social world, and temporal finalization, which embodies narrative time, there is a discontinuous form of temporal finalization, which is formed by comparisons between semantically marked elements in nonadjacent episodes. This structure emerges in irregular bursts of meaning occurring throughout the narrative, rather than through regular, continuous, episode by episode increments. In Kachivenyanja, these narrative flourishes, resonant acts and repeated phrases valorize the knowledge that guides and is created by the bardic institution itself. The following analysis of two episodes illustrates how semantic contrasts articulated in narrative thernatize institutional knowledge in a Haya heroic age. The episodes can serve as a catalog of the kinds of narrative materials the bard uses to create thematic finalizations.

Thematic Content in Call and Call-like Episodes Epic themes represent institutional knowledge in dyadic interactions: between man and woman, king and warrior, or one warrior and another. Themes also represent the kinds of knowing one needs to act well in these statuses: knowl-

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edge of the world oku-matiya, "to know") and knowledge of the self (okwemanya, "to know oneself"). These capacities appear in a character's ability to understand and act effectively with the virtues of his or her social standing. Bardic institutional knowledge is thematrzed in characters' marked competence in communicative genres. These are both speech (greeting, taunting, and addressing) and symbolic signs (drum, dream, dress, and battlefield gesture), some of which inscribe a human body with individual or group identity. This entire spectrum of themes is represented in Kachwenyanjcfs principal call. Reclining in the arms of his dream-sent bride, the hero hears war drums and immediately knows his obligation as a warrior. This is okw-emanya "to know oneself," a virtue that fixes one's ethical bearings in a complex social environment. The hero acts with resolute dedication to the royal state. He later shows this again by rejecting an enemy warrior's call-like greeting (156) and Littleman's offer of mercy (173). Marked sign and marked speech both appear in this central episode, the former in the drummed call, the latter in the symmetrical forms of address that set the emotional tone in the characters' relationship. Directly represented as "My husband" (114.1) answered by "My wife" (119), the verbal exchange is quoted a bit later (146) and also much later (367) as having been absolutely symmetrical, "Dear one" answered by "Yes, dear one." These contrast with the gender asymmetry common in clan practice represented in the warrior's quoted exchange with his second wife: "Wife!" answered by "My lord," (24—24.1). Symmetrical exchange among the newlyweds embodies a romantic, nonclan ethic. Thus, although opposed as love is to war, symmetrical speech and drummed sign reinforce each other thematicaUy. The ethics they represent— nonclan (symmetrical address) and royal state (drumming)—share a common opposition to clans. "[The drums] roar within me," the hero says, "I must go to war." His body reverberates with the drummed summons that predicates a warrior's identity on him. His ethically inscribed body becomes an instrument of state power. The epic's principal thematic dimensions are all present here—institutional ethical knowledge defined by role dyads, marked communicative codes, knowledge of self and/or other, and identity signaled by the body. Note that values on each dimension are not mutually exclusive: Both nonclan and royal institutional ethics may appear together, as can message forms of both speech and sign. Inversely, all dimensions do not occur in all call and call-like episodes, but enough do so that coherent structures emerge. Another episode, Nyakaandalo's call to heroic action, is equally rich with themes. In the company of her mu^na—a courtesan or serving woman sometimes given by the king as a domestic slave—the heroine learns of her husband's death, cries but once, and begins to plan her vengeance. Although it

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seems as though the action could proceed without her, the mu^ana is thematically as central to the action as the nearly naked man in Rukiza's corral. Present in every version I know, the mu^ana associates the deeds she and Nyakaandalo do with the royal state. The tactics they employ—words with implied meanings and sex with hidden consequences—are like those said to have been deployed by courtesans in service to the royal family. In this episode, as in that of the drummed call, sign and speech represent both royal and nonclan ethics. The alluring signs the knowing courtesan applies to Nyakaandalo's body conceal her intent, as the king's drum sounds within the body of a knowing warrior and reveals his dedication. Thematic dimensions remain the same, but values on them vary. The courtesan's tactics implicate the royal state, whereas the constructed identity of a previously married woman, one who can be wed without clan negotiations, implies an ethic that can be called nonclan. Nyakaandalo's speech embodies nonclan and state ethics in form and content. Her repeated promise to make nine accompany her fallen husband becomes her self-praise as a warrior. Recited before battle in the presence of royalty, the genre is also heard in Kachwenyanja's boasting address before he engages Littleman in combat (177—178), in the prebattle address to Nyakaandalo that he names self-praising (pkw-ebuga, 143), and in Nyakaandalo's address to her husband's corpse before she engages the enemy (246.1—248.1). As self-identifying praise in her call episode, her form of speech embodies warrior ethics. But her promise—to avenge her husband's death by killing his murderer and more—-opposes clans. It usurps a right to engage in a blood feud that belongs to the dead man's clansmen. In this episode, then, both sign as constructed appearance and speech as prebattle promise (pkw-ebugd) are doubly marked as state and nonclan. The two characters in this episode represent knowledge and self-knowledge: the courtesan, in her ability to get what is needed by manipulating appearances, and Nyakaandalo, in her self-affirmed stance as a woman not bound by clan practice and dedicated to her romantic lover. Nonclan, male-female relationships are thematically central in the calls to the warrior and to his widow, but role dyads defined by state institutional knowledge are also significant: warrior-king and courtesan-other. Symmetrically, only one dyad is actually present in each episode: male-female and courtesan-other. But in each, the call comes from the absent member of a second dyad—the king and the slain warrior, respectively. The discourse of bodies in these key episodes represents the power developed by the tactics of particular state-defined roles: the king, whose drum reverberates within the warrior; and the courtesan, whose tactical knowledge gives a female body its own authoritative call.

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Atemporal Thematic Coherence The preeminence, density, and configuration of themes in these episodes confirms that the way into a thematic analysis—like the way into an understanding of linguistic style—is marked by compositional finalization. Simply, dom inant themes occur in the principal call. Supporting themes appear in calls that initiate and frame whole moves within the narrative—the hero's dream (QUALIl'Y-call), the hero's battlefield taunt (UNGAGE [disequilibrium]-call), and widow's response (KNGAGG [equilibrium]-call). These modify and complement those in the drummed summons. The same paradigm interprets episodes composed of similar thematic elements (i.e., those whose action involves callers, addressees, marked message forms, and thematized institutional knowledge). Table 6.1 lists the call and calllike episodes as 1 have defined them for the purpose of thematic interpretation, identified by compositional function and line numbers. As usual, higherlevel moves appear in capital letters; lower-level, embedded moves appear in lowercase; and (-) signifies disequilibrium and (+) signifies equilibrium. Note that all of these episodes are constructed around communicative acts. Events whose configuration of elements is not call-like are not included. These are the physical violations in the tale: the deaths wrought by the warrior, his own death, and the vengeful acts of the heroine. They will be shown to articulate similar institutionally related themes in a different way. Note also that in most instances compositional and thematic segments are congruent. In five instances, thematic segments encompass but coincide with several compositional components. In only one instance—the descripTablc 6.1. Call and call-like thematic segments in Kachwenyanja Theme segment

1 )cscnplion

Plot segment

Kmbedded segment

Lines

1 . dream 2. wives 3. beer

dream of new wife address to wives request beer from king

QUALIFY

4. proposal 1

proposal to Nyakaandalo

call prepare travel engage(-), reveal, engage(+)

5. call 6. omens 7. taunt 8. Littlcman