Chapter V

, Division II and III) how the magician charms the blade of his adze, the ropes by which the canoe had been pulled, the lashing creeper, the caulking, and the paint of the canoe. Among the Kula rites, the initial magic over the aromatic mint, over the lilava (magical bundle) over the gebobo (central part of canoe); all the beauty magic on Sarubwoyna beach, over coco-nuts, over the facial paints as well as the conch shell magic, belong here. In all these performances an object is put well within reach of the voice, and in an appropriate position. Often, the object is placed within a receptacle or covering so that the voice enters an enclosed space and is concentrated upon the substance to be charmed. Thus, when the lilava is chanted over, the voice is cast into the mats, which are afterwards carefully wrapped up. The aromatic mint is charmed, lying at the bottom of a bag made of baked and thus toughened banana leaf, which afterwards is carefully folded together and bound with string. Again, the adze blade is first of all half wrapped up in a banana leaf, and the voice enters the blade and the inside of the leaf, which subsequently is folded over and tied over the blade. In the magic of the conch shell, I drew attention to the fact that immediately after the charm has been spoken, both holes of the instrument are carefully stuffed up. In all cases where an object is going to be used immediately, not so many precautions are taken, but always, without any exception, the mouth is put quite close to the object medicated (see Plate LVII) and wherever possible, this latter is placed in some sort of cavity, such as a folded piece of leaf, or even the two palms of the hand put together. All this shows that it is essential to a correct performance of magic, that the voice should be conveyed directly to the substance, if possible enclosed and condensed round it, and then, imprisoned permanently there by means of some wrapping. Thus, in this type of rite, the action serves mainly to convey carefully and to retain the spell round the object.

It may be noted that in almost all cases described, the substance harmed in the rite is not the final aim of the magic, but forms only a constituent part of the object in view or is an accessory of it, or an instrument used in its making. Thus the wayugo creeper, the kaybasi (caulking), the paint, the prow-boards, all these are constituent parts of the canoe, and the magic performed over them does not aim at giving them any qualities, but aims at imparting swiftness and lightness to the canoe of which they are parts only. Again, the herbs and the colours of the coco-nut ointment medicated in the Kula are accessories of the final end of this magic, that is, of the personal beauty and attractiveness of the performer. The adze, the breaking stone in kaloma magic are implements used in obtaining the object, towards which the magic is directed. There are only a few instances in which the simple rite of impregnation is directly performed on the object in view. If we compare this type of rite with the one of the previous category, we see that the difference lies mainly in the size of the object. If you want to cast a charm over a mountain, over a reef, or over the wind, you cannot put your object into a little bag made of banana leaf. Nor can you put there the human mind. And as a rule, the final objects of magical rites are not small things, which could be easily handled. In the magic described in this book, there is, I think, not one single instance, in which the substance handled in the rite and impregnated by condensing the charm upon it artificially, is the final object of the spell. In war magic the points of the spears are made effective and the shields are made spear-proof (see Plate LVIII) by magic uttered over them. In private garden magic, the planted yams are made fruitful by a spell, and a few more examples could be adduced from other types of magic.

Spells accompanied by a rite of transference.--When we compare the rite of medicating the adze blade with the rite of medicating some dried grass, with which the canoe is afterwards beaten, we see that, in the second case, the magic is uttered over a something, which has no intrinsic connection with the final object of the magic, that is, with the canoe. It is neither to become a part of it, nor to be used as an implement in its manufacture. We have here the introduction for purposes of the rite, of a special medium, used to absorb the magical force, and to transfer it to the final object. We can therefore call rites where such mediums are used rites of transference. When a stick is charmed to be used afterwards for the magical knocking out of a canoe; or a mussel-shell, with which the canoe will be scraped; or a piece of coco-nut husk, which will be thrown into the water to remove the heaviness of the canoe; or a pandanus streamer, which will give it swiftness, there is introduced into every one of these rites a substance which has to play a magical rôle only. The rite, therefore, is not the simple charming of a part or of a constructive implement, which will enter into the composition or be used in the making of an object. The rite here is more autonomous, possesses more of its own significance. The beating of a canoe with two bunches of grass, one after the other, in order first to extract its heaviness and then impart to it lightness, has a meaning parallel to the spell but independent of it. So has also the throwing down of the coco-nut husk. The flutter of the pandanus streamers has direct association with speed, as the natives explicitly state. As the bisila streamers flutter in the wind, so should the canoe and the sail shake with the swiftness of their going. In the case of the ginger, which is spat over the Dobuans feigning hostility, the inherent quality of the substance, which our pharmacopæas describe as a stimulant, makes the meaning of the rite plain. We can easily see that some of the rites are rather more creative than others. That is, the very act performed produces, according to native ideas, a more definite effect than in others. So it is with the spitting of the ginger, and still more directly the spilling of the lime, in order to produce a mist, and shut the eyes of the mulukwausi. These two, for instance, are more creative than the hanging up of the pandanus streamer.

Spells accompanied by offerings and invocations.--In the very first rite described in this book, we saw an offering being laid before, and an invocation being addressed to the wood-sprite, tokway. There are a number of rites, accompanied by offerings given to ancestral spirits, whose participation in the offering is solicited. Such rites are performed in garden magic (see Plate LIX) in fishing magic, and in weather magic. It must, however, be said at once that there is no worship and no sacrificial offering involved in these rites, that is, not of the usual description, because the spirits are not imagined to serve as agents of the magician, in carrying out the bidding of his magic. We shall return to the subject presently. Here it will be enough to notice that the only instance of such a spell we have come across--that is, the invocation of the tokway--has its concomitant offering made only as a sort of compensation for having chased him out, or as a means of persuading him to go. Probably it is the first rather than the second, because the tokway has no free choice left, after he has been exorcised. He must obey the bidding of the magician.

This survey shows clearly that the virtue, the force, the effective principle of magic lies in the spell. We saw that in many cases, the spell is quite sufficient, if directly breathed upon the object. Again, in what may be called the prevalent type of ritual, the action which accompanies the utterance of the formula serves only to direct and condense the spell upon the object. In all such cases the rite lacks all independent significance, all autonomous function. In some cases, the rite introduces a substance which is used for magical purposes only. As a rule, the substance then intensifies, through a parallel action, the meaning of the spell. On the whole, it may be said that the main creative power of magic resides in the formula; that the rite serves to convey, or transfer it to the object, in certain cases emphasising the meaning of the spell through the nature of the transferring medium, as well as through the manner in which it is finally applied. It is hardly necessary to state that in the Trobriand magic, there are no rites performed without the spell.

V

It is also evident in studying the manner in which the force of the spell is conveyed to the object, that the voice of the reciter transfers the virtue. Indeed, as has been repeatedly pointed out, in quoting the formulæ, and as we shall have to discuss later still, the magical words are, so to speak, rubbed in by constant repetition to the substance. To understand this better we must inquire into the natives' conceptions of psycho-physiology. The mind, nanola, by which term intelligence, power of discrimination, capacity for learning magical formulæ, and all forms of non-manual skill are described, as well as moral qualities, resides somewhere in the larynx. The natives will always point to the organs of speech, where the nanola resides. The man who cannot speak through any defect of his organs, is identified in name (tonagowa) and in treatment with all those mentally deficient. The memory, however, the store of formulæ and traditions learned by heart, resides deeper, in the belly. A man will be said to have a good nanola, when he can acquire many formulæ, but though they enter through the larynx, naturally, as he learns them, repeating word for word, he has to stow them away in a bigger and more commodious receptacle; they sink down right to the bottom of his abdomen. I made the discovery of this anatomical truth, while collecting war magic, from Kanukubusi, the last office holder of the long succession of war magicians to the chiefs of Omarakana. Kanukubusi is an old man, with a big head, a broad, high forehead, a stumpy nose, and no chin, the meekest and most docile of my informants, with a permanently puzzled and frightened expression on his honest countenance (see Plate LVIII). I found this mild old man very trustworthy and accurate, an excellent informant indeed, within the narrow sphere of his speciality, which he and his predecessors had used to make 'anger flare up in the nanola' of Omarakana men, to make the enemy fly in terror, pursued and slaughtered by the victorious warriors. I paid him well for the few formulæ he gave me, and inquired at the end of our first session, whether he had any more magic to produce. With pride, he struck his belly several times, and answered: "Plenty more lies there!" I at once checked his statement by an independent informant, and learned that everybody carries his magic in his abdomen.

There exist also certain ideas about stratification of magic, namely, that certain forms of magic have to be learnt first, so that they sink down, while others come on top. But these ideas are vague and contradictory, whereas the main idea, that magic rests in the belly, is clear and definite. This fact gives us a new insight into native ideas about magic. The force of magic, crystallised in the magical formulæ, is carried by men of the present generation in their bodies. They are the depositories of this most valuable legacy of the past. The force of magic does not reside in the things; it resides within man and can escape only through his voice.

VI

So far, we only spoke of the relation between spell and rite. The last point, however, brings us to the problem of the condition of the performer. His belly is a tabernacle of magical force. Such a privilege carries its dangers and obligations. It is clear that you cannot stuff foreign matter indiscriminately into a place, where extremely valuable possessions are kept. Food restrictions, therefore, become imperative. Many of them are directly determined by the contents of the spell. We saw some examples of this, as when red fish, invoked in magic, is tabooed to the performer; or the dog, spoken about in the Ka'ubanai spell, may not be heard howling while the man eats. In other cases, the object which is the aim of the magic, cannot be partaken by the magician. This is the rule in the case of shark fishing, kalala fishing, and other forms of fishing magic. The garden magician is also debarred from partaking of new crops, up to a certain period. There is hardly any clear doctrine, as to why things mentioned in magical formulæ, whether they are the aims of the magic or only cooperating factors, should not be eaten. There is just the general apprehension that the formula would be damaged by it. There are other taboos, binding the magician, some of them permanent, some of them temporary, during the season of his magical performance. We saw some permanent ones, as in the case of the man who knows Kayga'u magic, and is not allowed to eat while children make noises. The temporary ones, such as the sexual abstinence during the first rites of the Kula, could be supplemented by numerous examples from other forms of magic. Thus, in order to bring about rain, the magician paints himself black and has to remain unwashed and unkempt for some time. The shark magician has to keep his house open, to remove his pubic leaf and to sit with his legs apart, while the fishing and the magic last, "so that the shark's mouth might remain gaping." But we cannot enter too much into enumeration of these taboos and observances, and have only to make it clear that the proper behaviour of the magician is one of the essentials of magic, and that in many cases this behaviour is dictated by the contents of the spell.

The taboos and observances are not the only conditions which a man must fulfil in order to carry out certain forms of magic. In many cases the most important condition is his membership in a social group, for many forms of magic are strictly local, and must be performed by one, who is the descendant of the mythical, original owner of the magic. Thus in every case of garden magic, a magic which to the natives ranks first among all the other types of beneficent magic, the performer must be genealogically related to the first ancestor, who locally emerged from the hole. Certain exceptions to this rule are to be found only in cases where a family of high rank has come and usurped the headmanship of the group, but these exceptions are rare. In the case of the several systems of local fishing magic, the office of magician is hereditary, and associated with the locality. The important rain and sun magic which have been 'born' in Kasana'i, can only be performed by the chiefs of that spot, who have usurped this important privilege from the original local headman. The succession, is of course, always matrilineal. A man may make a gift of such a magic to his son, but this latter may be obliged to relinquish the privilege at his father's death, and he never will be allowed to hand it over to his son, unless this latter belongs again to the local group, through cross-cousin marriage. Even in transactions where magic is sold or given away from one clan to another, the prestige of certain local groups as main specialists and experts in a branch of magic still remain. For instance, the black magic, though practised all over the place and no more localised, is still believed to be best known in the villages of Ba'u and Bwoytalu, where the original crab fell down from the skies, and brought with him the magic. The Kula magic is also spread over the whole district, yet it is still associated with definite localities.

To summarise these sociological observations, We may say that, where the local character of magic is still maintained, the magician has to belong to the dala (sub-clan or local group) of the mythical ancestor. In all other cases, the local character of magic is still recognised, even though it does not influence the sociology of the magician.

The traditional character of magic and the magical filiation of the performer find their expression in another important feature of the spells. In some of them, as we have seen, references to mythical events are made, or names of mythical ancestors are uttered. Even more often, we find a whole list of names, beginning with the mythical founder of the magic, and ending with the name of the immediate predecessor, that is, of the man from whom the magic was obtained by the actual performer. Such a list links up the present magician by a sort of magical pedigree with all those, who had previously been using this formula. In other formulæ again, the magician identifies himself with some mythical individual, and utters the latter's name in the first person. Thus, in the spell uttered whilst plucking the mint plant, we found the phrase: "I, Kwoyregu, with my father, we cut the sulumwoya of Laba'i." Both the actual genealogical descent of the magician from the mythical ancestors, and the magical filiation expressed in the formulæ show again the paramount importance of tradition, in this case acting on the sociological determination of the performer. He is placed in a definite social group of those, who by birth, or what could be called 'magical adoption', have had the right of performing this magic. In the very act of uttering the spell, the magician bears testimony to his indebtedness to the past by the enumeration of magical names, and by references to myth and mythical events. Both the sociological restrictions, wherever they still exist, and the magical filiation confirm once more the dependence of magic on tradition. On the other hand, both show, as also do the taboos, that the obligations imposed on the magician and the conditions he has to fulfil, are largely derived from the spell.

VII

Closely connected with the questions discussed in the preceding division, is the subject of the systems of magic and the distinction between 'systematic' and 'independent' magical rites and formulæ. As we saw in the beginning of this chapter, the whole body of magic naturally falls into several big divisions, each of them corresponding to a department of nature, such as wind or weather; to some activity of man, such as gardening, fishing, hunting or warfare; or to some real or imaginary force, such as artistic inspiration, witchcraft, personal charm or prowess.

There is, however, an important distinction to be made within each such division of magic; some of the rites and spells are isolated and independent, they can be used by themselves, whenever the need arises. Such are almost all the incantations of wind magic; some spells of individual garden magic; formulæ against toothache, and minor ailments; some spells of hunting and food collecting; a few rites of love magic and of the magic of carving. When a man, for instance, paddles along the Lagoon in his canoe and an unfavourable wind sets in, he will utter a spell to make it abate and change. The same spell would be recited in the village, when there arises a wind so strong as to be dangerous. The incantation is a free, individual act, which may be performed and is performed in any of the circumstances which require it.

It is quite another matter with the spells belonging to what I have called here systematic magic. Such magic consists of a connected and consecutive body of incantations and concomitant rites, no one of which can be torn out of its sequence and performed by itself. They have to be carried out one after the other in a determined order, and the more important of them, at least, can never be omitted, once the series has been started. Such a series is always closely connected with some activity, such as the building of a canoe or an overseas Kula voyage, a fishing expedition or the making and harvesting of a garden. It will not be difficult for us to realise the nature of systematic magic, for in this book almost all the rites and spells described belong to this class. In general, in the Trobriands, the independent uncorrelated rites and formulæ are quite an insignificant minority, both in number and in importance.

Let us consider one of the forms of systematic magic previously described, whether canoe magic or that of the Kula, whether the kayga'u formulæ, or the magical ritual of kaloma fishing. The first general fact to be noted here is, that we are in the presence of a type of enterprise or activity, which is never embarked upon without magic. No canoe will be built, no uvalaku started, no kaloma fished, without its magic ceremonial. This ceremonial will be scrupulously observed in its main features, that is, some of the most important formulæ will never be omitted, as some minor ones might be, a fact which has been previously noted. The association between the practical activity and its magical concomitant is very intimate. The stages and acts of the first, and the rites and spells of the latter, correspond to each other one by one. Certain rites have to be done in order to inaugurate certain activities; others have to be performed at the end of the practical work; others again are part and parcel of the activity. But each of the rites and spells is to the native mind, quite as indispensable for the success of the enterprise, as is the practical activity. Thus, the tokway has to be expelled, or the tree would be entirely unsuitable for a canoe; the adze, the lashing creeper, the caulking and the paint have to be charmed, or else the canoe would be heavy and unwieldy, and such an omission might even prove dangerous to life. Going mentally over the various cases quoted in the previous chapters, it can be easily seen, how this intimate association between enterprise and magic imparts to systematic magic its specific character. The consecutive progress of work and of magic are inseparable, just because, according to native ideas, work needs magic, and magic has only meaning as an indispensable ingredient of work.

Both work and magic are directed towards the same aim; to construct a swift and a stable canoe; to obtain a good Kula yield; to insure safety from drowning and so on. Thus we see that systematic magic consists in a body of rites and spells associated with one enterprise, directed towards one aim, and progressing in a consecutive series of performances which have to be carried out in their proper place. The point--the proper understanding of what is meant by systematic magic--is of the greatest theoretical importance because it reveals the nature of the relation between magical and practical activities, and shows how deeply the two are connected with one another. It is one of these points, also, which cannot be properly explained and grasped without the help of a Chart. In the appended "Table of Kula Magic and of the Corresponding Activities," I have prepared such a Chart, in which has been summarised the substance of several of the foregoing Chapters. The Table allows of a rapid survey of the consecutive activities of the Kula in their relation to magic, beginning with the first act of canoe-building and finishing with the return home. It shows the salient features of systematic magic in general, and of the mwasila and canoe magic in particular. It shows the relation between magical, ritual and practical activities, the correlated sequence of the two, their rolling off, stage after stage, and side by side, towards one central aim--a successful Kula. The Table thus serves to illustrate the meaning of the expression 'systematic magic,' and it provides a firm outline of the essentials, magical, ceremonial and practical, of the Kula.

TABLE OF KULA MAGIC AND OF THE CORRESPONDING ACTIVITIES

I--First Stage of Canoe-Building (