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Abrahams, Roger D. 1980. “Folklore.” In Harvard
Encyclopedia of American Ethnic Groups, Stephan Thernstrom, ed.,
Cambridge:
Belnap Press, pp. 370-9.
“Folklore”
Roger D. Abrahams
[beginning of page 370]
All groups inherit and develop ways of entertaining and
instructing
each other, ways that can be described as folklore. These become
self-consciously enacted and practiced when the sense of family and
community
comes under question; this is the situation that commonly arises upon
group
movement, for migration and resettlement seem to engender cultural
dislocation
even under the best of circumstances. In these conditions,
folklore
plays an important role in the lives of ethnic groups insofar as group
members maintain connection with each other or with their
homeland.
To be sure, there are usually strong pressures to adopt the language
and
lore of the receiving culture. These pressures may raise the
question
of whether or not the most public and distinctive ways and celebrating
one’s cultural heritage should be maintained. Consequently, the
study
of the folklore of ethnic groups involves an analysis of traditional
means
of expression as they undergo self-conscious scrutiny both from group
members
and from outsiders.
The term folklore commonly refers to ways of talking,
interacting, and
performing, including traditional types of everyday expression such as
proverbs, prayers, curses, jokes, riddles, superstitions (or, to use
the
more neutral term, statements of belief), tales, and songs. The [beginning
of page 371] term also embraces the numerous types of story --
anecdotes,
testimonies, reminiscences -- that emerge on both casual and ceremonial
occasions. Folklore forms thus range from the short and
economical
devices employed in everyday interactions to the larger expressive
genres,
like songs and sermons, which are commonly called forth on special
occasions.
However, folklore refers also to games, rituals, festivals,
foods, health
practices and beliefs, traditional crafts, and occupations. It
encompasses
work forms, serious as well as recreational, and draws from material as
well as expressive culture. In the United States, a distinction
is
often made between folklore and folklife. The
former
refers primarily to traditional ways of performing and playing, and the
latter to the means and manner of work.
The study of folklore began with a special focus on country
people and
country ways, and folklorists continue to favor the study of small
communities,
populated by those who interact regularly on a face-to-face
basis.
However, this emphasis on rural groups did not totally determine the
perspective
of American folklorists; in the charter of the American Folklore
Society
in 1888, not only were relics of past agrarian societies mentioned as
an
appropriate source of data, but also the traditions of American Indian
tribes, blacks, and other ethnically distinct communities. The
underlying
principle bringing together such disparate groups is based on the sense
of community they supposedly shared because of their social or
geographical
isolation, and on the relative intimacy between makers and users,
performers
and audience.
To the extent that verbal lore both instructs and
entertains, it puts
into words the most important shared values of group life; folklore in
this way reveals attitudes that remind us of how life ought to be
lived,
conditioning us about the consequences of not following these
precepts.
Thus, folklore often provides the main patterns for the expression and
enactment of group values and ideals.
To see the folk arts only from this instructive perspective,
however,
is to reduce such formulations to the category of “kernels of wisdom,”
or worse, to cliches. However, on those occasions on which such
playful
forms as riddles, parodies, lampoons, jokes, and jibes are performed,
the
world view of the group may be given voice and tested -- even turned
upside
down. Thus, the study of the folklore of a group opens the
possibility
of revealing the deepest feelings of its members at the same time it
may
address their ways of playing, joking, and testing the boundaries of
the
community from within.
In giving voice to values and entering into the celebration
of ethnicity,
oral traditions are a major component in establishing the boundaries of
an ethnic group. A cultural performance may be a means of
articulating
boundaries in order to include members and exclude nonmembers; but it
may
also operate as a means of distinguishing separate and even
antagonistic
segments within the community. Further, the same item of
performance
may on one occasion be drawn upon as a way of excluding a person or a
group
by designating them as nonpersons (devils, animals, crazies), and on
another
may publicly proclaim the community open to view and even
membership.
Surely this publicizing of otherwise private ethnic ways is the primary
thrust of the may recent “folk festivals,” in which a self-conscious
attempt
is made to celebrate cultural diversity by displaying different
culinary,
singing, dancing, and craft styles as styles, not really as
alternative
ways of life. The difference may simply be a matter of
translating
and explaining what is going on to outsiders, but in sociological terms
that is a crucial difference.
Verbal lore is primarily tied to inherited patterns of
language use.
As linguistic acculturation to mainstream American English norms has
occurred,
foreign oral traditions have been undermined. Thus, collecting
ethnic
lore until relatively recently has been a retrieval project --
collections
established before the lore dies out with those tradition-bearers who
have
somehow survived the disruption of being put on a reservation, in a
ghetto,
or in an immigrant community or neighborhood. Collecting ethnic
lore
often proceeds on the assumption that the songs, stories, proverbs,
superstitions
and other practices of the homeland will somehow be lost as soon as
linguistic
acculturation has taken place -- an assumption not without foundation,
even with English-speaking immigrants who are simply adapting to the
American
varieties of their tongue. But recent studies of the expressive
dimension
of ethnicity, based on more developmental principles, have been
especially
useful in understanding the various perceptible stages of
Americanization.
These are stages that are actually definable by the oral traditions
that
are maintained, modified, forgotten, or newly developed as a means of
coping
with new and more complex cultural situations.
Further, there is accumulating evidence that acculturation
to the “mainstream”
is far from unilinear and that social assimilation must be
distinguished
from acculturation because it represents a different process and obeys
a different timetable. Again and again, groups that have begun to
assimilate within the political and economic spheres continue or strive
to maintain culturally distinct forms and prefer to live in separate
communities
or neighborhoods. Further, as this distinctiveness has become a
political
asset, rewarded by access to affirmative action and political leverage,
the ethnic differences have to be self-consciously maintained as a
means
of making common cause politically or economically. This does
not,
in fact, demand radical stylistic alternatives as much as it requires a
minimal message of cultural uniqueness -- even as superficial as
drinking
green beer on St. Patrick’s Day. Such practices often draw upon
an
ethnic stereotype and turn it into a kind of self-conscious
performance;
that is, one’s identity changes with the role and the relationships one
takes on (whether willingly or not). In such a case, asserting
one’s
ethnic heritage (whether real or derived from a stereotype) simply
becomes
a role which has become available because of the circumstance of one’s
ancestry and upbringing.
The dynamic of typing is one of the most important forces in
the development
of ethnic consciousness. Whether an ethnic group decides
self-consciously
to assimilate, or to maintain its separateness, the lore that develops
in the new situation will reflect the social situation in which the
group
members find themselves. Thus, if exclusion is a constant
problem,
a concern with segregation is certain to be the subject of a [beginning
of page 372] good deal of the lore shared by the members of the
group.
But even in those groups that have not encountered segregation, many
traditional
stories are told that relate the funny embarrassments that repeatedly
arise
with a strange language and a new culture. There are the
problems,
shared by most groups, that arise out of repeated linguistic
misunderstanding
or differences in manners -- how close individuals stand when
conversing,
for instance, or the embarrassments resulting from a first encounter
with
an unfamiliar object or process.
An example of this, often recounted by Texas Chicanos,
concerns the
problems of a newcomer in dealing with his first paycheck.
Wishing
to buy some socks, he goes to a department store and asks for calcetines.
The clerk doesn’t understand, so the buyer repeats his request a few
decibels
higher. The clerk becomes nervous, as does the customer; the
latter
repeats his needs in an even louder voice, the former begins flying
around
holding things up to see if it is what the customer needs.
Finally,
he holds up some socks, and the customer relievedly says, “Eso, so
que
es.” To which the clerk replies, “Well, if you could spell
it,
why in hell didn’t you say so?” This kind of interlingual
misunderstanding
is frequently a source of common amusement, for both the immigrants and
those with whom they regularly come in contact. Thus, one often
hears
the same story told by individuals in both groups, though seldom in
interactions
with each other.
It is precisely this private, in-group dimension of ethnic
lore that
demonstrates the way in which orally transmitted expression can
dramatize
the ethnic experience for those who are going through it.
However,
because such lore is amusing and instructive to those attempting to
adjust
or adapt, and because it lends itself to negative stereotyping, such
lore
or a discussion of its meaning is seldom found in serious discussions
of
ethnicity.
Such ethnic lore develops from a self-consciousness about
language and
cultural difference as it is experienced in the everyday world by the
immigrant
or refugee. Thus it is not just the life in the old country that
is remembered, but the shared experience of the newcomers. There
are not only stories about the recurrent embarrassments of the new land
and its ways, but also about deeper confusions sometimes labeled culture
shock. Leaving home, even for the “promised land,” involves
great
psychological dislocation, compounded by inevitable failures of
expectation.
Out of this experience comes a kind of private lore, stories of
personal
experience that one shares only with one’s shipmates, others of that
generation,
and perhaps on rare occasions with younger members of one’s
family.
Immigrants will often have formulaic hardship stories, or remembrances
of the funny or awful experiences going through the port of entry.
As Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett argues with great common
sense, culture
shock places the migrant or the refugee in the temporary position of a
cultureless being, analogous to a child. The newcomer is forced
to
adapt to demands and to assume the role of one who doesn’t know how to
perform the most basic life tasks. The first experiences may thus
operate in a manner not unlike that of the child, or even more, the
initiate
-- but without the careful and extensive preparation that commonly goes
into the traditional initiation ritual. The culture broker -- the
appointed (or self-appointed) member of the ethnic community who leads
the new arrivals through the worst spots -- is a fascinating,
insufficiently
explored feature of the lore of all “minority groups,” including not
only
immigrants, but Indians, ethnic country folk who find themselves in
strange
environments, especially cities, and so on. As in other migratory
situations, the newcomers look for the “homeboys” -- the relatives,
acquaintances,
co-religionists or whomever they can find who speak their language and
who have found a place in the new society. When it is a family
that
has migrated, the brokers, too, are often families, husbands and wives
who have already made the transition. Such brokers, in addition
to
providing help in finding housing and work, are commonly bilingual,
often
literate, and most important, have learned what is essential in order
to
get along in the new environment. As a way of dramatizing and
humanizing
this transition for newcomers, the broker often has developed a
repertoire
of stories, illustrative anecdotes of common embarrassment and crisis
situations
that provide lessons in getting through such situations with one’s
self-respect
intact. These stories often float from one ethnic group to
another,
demonstrating that the sense of embarrassment is shared by many who
come
to a new country and have to learn new codes and languages.
One story, which appears in many forms in many communities,
tells of
the attempts of a newly arrived relative to get something to eat during
the lunch break at his new job. His relative carefully coaches
him
to say, “I want a piece of pie and a glass of milk.” On the first
day, he successfully negotiates the purchase and is immensely proud of
doing so. He repeats the order each day for several weeks
thereafter.
But one night he says he would like to eat something else for lunch
once
in a while. Accepting his new task, his benefactor teaches him to
say, “I want a ham sandwich and a cup of coffee.” “White or rye?”
is the response, which is answered after a long pause, “Gimme a piece
of
pie and a glass of milk.”
In such a situation of enforced acculturation, the
individual who has
become accustomed to the new language, new foods, new patterns of
living,
and new ways becomes something of a hero or heroine. The ability
to switch codes (whether linguistic or behavioral) provides the clever
immigrant with the power to resolve inadvertent dilemmas and
conflicts.
Add to this the message that the resolution may be learned and carried
out with good humor, and it becomes self-evident why this role remains
important in both adapting to the new situation and in remaining the
central
character in stories that recapitulate the embarrassments long after
coming
into the new social situation.
The collection and presentation-in-context of ethnic
folklores has proceeded
from three often overlapping strategies: first, using the devices of
tradition
to maintain a sense of continuity with Old World life and establishing
a new sense of community in the alien New World setting; second,
looking
closely at the content of the lore -- the reaction to displacement and
to the attendant social problems (such as being marginalized,
stereotyped,
or ghettoized); and third, collecting and an - [beginning of page
373]
alyzing the lore that emerges from the new environment, with special
focus
on the stages of acculturation and the manner in which lore is used,
first
as
a device for surviving and then as a way of achieving a new sense of
ethnic
identification within a self-consciously pluralistic
population.
FOLKLORE COLLECTIONS:
MEMORY CULTURE TO EMERGENT TRADITIONS
It is hardly surprising that studies of ethnic lore have
followed the
value preferences of the host culture. Early collections of
folklore
were carried out, moreover, in an antiquarian spirit, as a means of
collecting
lore before it died out, a practice typical of folklore collecting in
general.
From this perspective, texts are collected as a gauge of the extent of
ethnic persistence and as a test of the culture-wave theory, which
argues
that international items in diffusion are often to be found at the
peripheries
of a culture area long after they have been lost at the center.
Thus,
folklorists have open been concerned with such lore collected within
culturally
conservative communities. Collections are made of texts of oral
literature
deriving from ethnic enclaves that self-consciously preserve their
distinctiveness,
commonly by maintaining a separate town or neighborhood or by clinging
to an ethnic religious or social organization. These collections
grow out of a desire to collect Old World rural items of wisdom and
performance
before the language and its remembered culture dies out. In such
studies, the baseline against which the material is placed and judged
is
the Old World repertoire. Indeed, this is true of the many forms
that have made up the mainstream of American folklore studies: British
ballads, songs, and folktales. The “relics” of British
countryside
traditions have been actively sought in every area in the United
States.
Especially rich areas have been discovered throughout the upland South,
in New England, and in the Ozarks. A hierarchy of forms and even
items was established in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but
actual
collection of such items in North America was not carried out
extensively
until the 1920s and 1930s. The research tools that document this
collecting effort focus on the oldest and most wide-spread texts of
ballads
and folktales, illustrating, through bibliographical annotation, how
widely
the item has been found and in what range of versions and
variants.
Thus, when the local and regional collections are carried out, they,
too,
show the historical and geographical spread of the item through
comparative
annotation.
A number of Old World verbal traditions have been widely and
deeply
collected employing this essentially antiquarian approach.
Especially
notable in this regard are studies of Pennsylvania German, Louisiana
French,
and southwestern Mexican-American lore. These are commonly
presented
as evidence of the continuity in these culturally and linguistically)
conservative
areas, a continuity emerging from living in isolated agrarian areas.
Such studies of immigrant and ethnic folklore are still
being carried
out using the body of Old World traditions as a point of
departure.
The point of these studies, however, is no longer antiquarian; rather,
they attempt to epitomize, in the content of the lore, the
complementary
processes of tradition maintenance and change. Such community
studies
are aimed not only at understanding more fully the sociocultural
dynamic
of transmission, but at drawing upon folklore as a gauge of
acculturation
and community stability. These works underscore the selective
maintenance
of traditional forms and practices, those that enter actively into the
adaptation of newly located groups. The pressures faced upon
entering
the new environment emerge from the need not only to learn occupational
skills, but also a new language and system of manners. On the
other
hand, these needs are counteracted by a desire to maintain a sense of
family,
church, and community through keeping up some of the old practices.
The most important variables here seem to be the extent of
the population
movement that has taken place, the type of friend and family network
that
can be maintained, and the degree of development of the ethnic enclave
into which the newcomer will enter. The ethnic farming community
is susceptible to a high degree of language and culture maintenance, as
is the intensive city neighborhood. The same situation of
tradition
maintenance may hold when the newcomer is received into an occupational
community -- into mining, lumbering, or the cattle trade, for example.
Here we have some instructive accounts of ethnic
persistence: Robert
Georges’ studies of the Tarpon Springs, Fla., Greek community -- in
which
the traditional employment is sponge-diving -- may be usefully compared
to the analysis of the urban Greek community in Philadelphia carried
out
by Gregory Gizelis. Both of these folklorists examine the
narrative
lore of a Greek-speaking population. But Georges’ interests are,
in the main, tied to the way in which both traditional and
personal-experience
stories maintain the belief and practice system revolving around the
sea
and the sponge-fishing trade. Though the folklife reported shows
a range of responses to the pressures encountered in being surrounded
by
non-Greek-speaking American peoples, Georges is generally able to draw
upon the Old World cultural baseline much more fully than can Gizelis,
who collected from the more economically and geographically diverse
Greeks
in Philadelphia. Gizelis interviewed a great number of Greek
Americans
on the ways in which home traditions combine with ethnic awareness in a
new environment where the newcomer is both establishing a sense of
community
and pursuing his individual identity. In contrast to the Tarpon
Springs
community, the urban Greeks had changed their occupations and
lifestyles
almost completely in making a place for themselves in the urban
environment
of Philadelphia. In the main, the character and forms of familiar
verbal art displayed by Greek Americans correspond to those of most
other
groups in the process of acculturation. These forms, perhaps
because
of their ubiquity, have seldom been noted by folklorists or
sociologists,
and can thus only be found in joke books and immigrant
autobiographies.
For instance, Gizelis reports on the stories told about Greeks who have
been successful in American life, each told with a strong note of what
it is in Greek “character” that has made it possible for them to
succeed.
Similarly, he analyzes stories that present their perceived stereotype
of themselves by Americans, and provide folk rationalization for why
these
stereotypes, these “misunderstandings,” have arisen in the first
place.
Gizelis includes [beginning of page 374] many stories, both
personal
and jocular, about the various cultural and linguistic
misunderstandings
that the immigrants encountered. He underscores the variety of
ways
in which these narratives are used: recounting common anxiety
situations;
making jokes about newcomers, sometimes to share their anxiety; and
offering
reminiscences by those who needed to make a statement about how hard
times
had been. Clearly, this is emergent New World lore about an Old
World
group, lore in which Greek tradition has become subordinate to
Greek-American
lore.
A number of factors govern the selective maintenance or
rejection of
traditional practices. Different considerations are brought to
bear
if, for example, one is examining culinary traditions, in which case
availability
of foods and fuels might be crucial; or the existence of institutions
outside
the family that encourage festive gathering; or the health maintenance
system, in which the role of healer and protector might or might not be
challenged by the dominant medically trained personnel, and traditional
remedies (like herbs) might or might not be available. Sometimes
an investigator finds that parameters like age and sex are central to
such
a study. Carla Bianco, for instance, found in her study of the
storytelling
events in Rosetto, Italy, and Rosetto, Pennsylvania, that among the
very
old and the young, traditional tales remain important forms of
entertainment.
Collections that take into account the persistence or
adaptation of
Old World traditions in mestizo or creole cultures -- that is, when
languages
and ways of life are mixed in an alien environment -- pose problems
that
are very different from those of studies of immigrant-to-ethnic
lore.
Some strange academic biases enter into the study of the culturally
different
communities that have emerged in the wake of the plantation and the hacienda,
or the ghetto and the barrio. Studies of both
Afro-American
and Mexican-American folklore emerge in reaction to many of the same
conditions
of social segregation and subordination as do the sociological and
historical
accounts of the same ethic groups. And though the folklore
studies
do underscore the creative process that seems to occur in reaction to
these
conditions, it is nonetheless the conditions and the exploitation that
command our attention.
Moreover, in the attempt to relate the social conditions to
the cultural
bases of creativity, the investigator-collector has commonly accepted
the
argument that such folklore emerges in response to these
conditions.
Somehow, the African or the American Indian repertories or styles have
supposedly been eliminated in the process of colonialization.
Where
specific items or practices have been reported elsewhere, it is
presumed
that they were learned by “imitation” from the European or
Euro-American
“masters.” To a certain extent, this bias occurs simply because
folklorists
have collected and organized the Indo-European traditions much more
fully
than African or American Indian lore. But the assimilationist
bias
of the commentators has certainly had an effect on the way they present
their position. Such arguments emanate from the notion that all
culture
rests on the superstructure of the institutions of community life:
family
structure, economic and governmental systems, and religion. The
maintenance
of African and American Indian institutions was, indeed, discouraged by
the dominant European and Euro-American societies. By extension,
it was assumed that all other features of culture would be undermined
and
replaced through imitating the culture of the dominant society, or
through
a shared creative reaction against their domination. This
deculturation
view is most identified with the Afro-Americatrists E. Franklin Frazier
and Robert Park, and was maintained by collectors of black life and
lore
until relatively recently. (The great exception is the work of
Melville
Herskovits and his students.) One of the earliest and best
informed
of these scholar-collectors, Richard Dorson, maintains this Europeanist
point of view, with special reference to black folktales. He
argues
that the great bulk of Afro-American narrative lore in the United
States,
where it exhibits Old World antecedents at all, demonstrates a
derivation
from European rather than African antecedents.
In rebuttal, a number of commentators have noted that this
defies both
common sense and the evidence of the data: distributional studies of
specific
stories, especially of the Uncle Remus variety so widely collected in
the
United States, demonstrate a strong maintenance of African narrative
lore;
and morphological analyses of a variety of expressive forms -- tales,
dance,
song, practices of worship -- indicate that even when specific items
are
derivable from non-African sources, the deeper learned patterns of both
construction and performance are demonstrably African or
pan-Afro-American.
Herskovits presents a model of acculturation that distinguishes three
modes
of continuity and adaptation: straight retention; reinterpretation,
in which forms are maintained in new environments with new uses and
meanings;
and syncretism, in which similar elements of two or more
cultures
merge.
What Herskovits describes are a number of possible ways in
which cultural
forms and practices change. Those who have continued to study
expressive
culture in Afro-American communities generally analyze their data not
only
on the level of traits and practices, in which attributions of
specified
points of origin in Africa or Europe or the New World are asserted, but
also on the deeper level of aesthetic and cosmological organization, or
on the micro-behavioral level (walking, running, and dancing styles,
ways
of greeting, eye-contact patterns). In these areas of culture,
the
deculturation argument goes against both common sense and the most
casual
observation. Thus, it is not in the areas of texts or traits that
the most fruitful discussion of African retentions has been carried
out,
but in the practices in which these deeper patterns may be observed
most
clearly -- as in, say, hand-clapping and drumming, dance patterns,
sermons
and religious practices, and so on.
The cultural dynamic in which such deeper structures of
organization
and attitude operate is severely complicated in cases like
Afro-American
lore because of the constant possibility of introducing cultural
elements
from contemporary African or from Afro-American communities outside the
United States. For instance, Afro-American dance in the United
States
has produced a great number of indigenous styles from “Jump Jim Crow,”
the “Buzzard Lope,” and the “Turkey Trot” to the “Charleston,”
“jitterbug,”
and various kinds of “the boogie.” But equally important have
been
the Afro-Latin dance crazes: Mambo, Limbo, Samba, Congo, Bossa Nova.
[beginning of page 375] During the 1960s, when such
practices
became entwined with the “soul movement,” a number of such display
forms
took on special meaning. Dashiki shirts and love beads
came
into the black American repertory through the Cuban Yoruba community
newly
moved to New York and Miami from Havana and the Oriente in eastern
Cuba.
The Cubans from this community had never lost contact with their
Nigerian
cousins -- their religious leaders were often sent back for training,
for
instance. Thus, when they moved from Cuba they found fertile
ground
to grow in, and many of their practices came into wider fashion.
In addition to the dashiki and beads, the multi-unit handshake and the
emphasis on plaited hair decoration were reemphasized. The corn-row
(or cane-row), for instance, had been one of many traditional
styles
in the American South as well as the West Indies. Rejected as a
reminder
of slavery times in favor of hair-straightening techniques (also found,
incidentally, in many parts of traditional Africa), plaiting reemerged
in this era of self-conscious cultural revitalization. Perhaps
even
more important is the fact that through all of the evolving history the
importance of hair-styling, and especially of having a family member or
friend do the hair in public, remained constant. Perhaps the most
potent way of dramatizing the point is to refer to the widespread
African
saying (also found in the West Indies): “Nothing is sadder to think
about
than a person with no one to take care of his hair.”
THE INDIGENOUS AND BOUNDARY-MAKING STATEMENTS OF VERBAL ART
The concern with the maintenance and elaboration of relics
of the past
has become somewhat less central to the study of the folklore of
American
ethnic groups in the post-World War II era. The indigenous forms
have assumed ever greater importance. Thus, more studies have
been
carried out that concentrate on the lore in which strong attitudes and
images of self and other are explored. Here one can reasonably
make
a distinction between the lore that dramatizes one’s
stereotypes
of one’s own group and of contiguous cultures, and the forms
and
styles
of traditional practice that are unique to the group. In both
cases
the lore is of an esoteric sort. The lore of self-typing and
stereotyping
projects and reinforces intragroup and intergroup conflicts. With
such stereotypical material, its in-group character derives from highly
biased content features that reveal the attitudes held by one group
about
another. In the case of the developing form and styles, the
expression
is so idiomatic to the group, so full of slang, jargon, or other
special
vocabulary, that it is virtually unintelligible to nonmembers.
Perhaps
more to the point, such esoteric lore is subject to constant
intercultural
misunderstanding, thus increasing the sense of in-groupness as well as
intensifying the sense of exclusion felt by nonmembers.
This complex of ways in which ethnic lore explores the
subject of social
and cultural differences has been an especially productive way of
drawing
on folklore as an index to the intensity of social stratification and
the
dynamic of intergroup relations. This lore about self and others
has been analyzed in terms suggested by William Hugh Jansen and
expanded
upon by Richard Bauman and numerous others. The esoteric-exoteric (or
s-x)
complex of factors concerns the techniques of boundary-making and the
dynamic
arising between the bounded groups as it is revealed within the corpus
of an oral literature. These boundaries arise not only from the
integrity
and sense of shared experience, language, and values within the group,
but from that group’s image of the degree to which it is regarded as
distinctive
by nonmembers and how these differences are, in fact, regarded.
Thus,
the s-x factor would include not only the stereotypical depictions of
self
and other, but also the ways in which the lore points to cultural means
of fighting against the negative effects of stereotyping.
Many of the more recent studies of both Afro-American and
Mexican-American
lore underscore this dynamic of stereotyping. For example,
Americo
Paredes has explored the relationship between “gringos” and “greasers”
in the joke-lore of Mexican Americans, underscoring the impact of the
antagonism
between Chicanos and Anglos as recorded in real events in which social
inequities are dramatized. The dynamic of recent Mexican-American
lore, especially in-group jokes, provides a way in which the Anglo
stereotype
of Chicanos is drawn on to establish counter-boundaries, directing both
laughter and derision at those who would otherwise be regarded as
socially
superordinate. This, too, involves the inversion of stereotype
traits
in which laziness as well as virility become devices of manipulation in
encounters and in which supposed animality becomes a resource of sexual
superiority. This same process of stereotypical inversion is
emphasized
in the many studies of urban Afro-American lore.
The expressive forms that arise within these ethnic
enclaves, especially
Hispanic-American and Afro-American, have received more critical
commentary
than virtually any other area of folklore and expressive culture in
general.
Characteristic of this interest in the in-group lore of these groups
are
many studies of blues -- classic, country, and city. Such
analyses
often focus on the role of the bluesman as a social representative --
even
culture hero -- of the blacks during the post-Reconstruction
period.
These studies arise in great part not just from social
concerns of the
predominantly white commentators, but from a fascination with emergent
and creative forms. In a similar manner, other emergent black
forms
of verbal art have received a great deal of commentary: the sermon,
the spiritual, jiving, playing the dozens (mother rapping),
and the toast. In all cases, attempts have been made to
relate
these forms, the nature of these performances, and their subject matter
to the sociocultural condition of contemporary Afro-American
life.
All of the social sciences might be enriched by the
exploration of the
content and performance of oral traditions. This becomes
especially
significant as the thrust of folklore studies has changed from an
emphasis
on texts to one on performance, play, and enactment. Traditional
practices in new environments become a useful way to get to the core of
the cultural dynamic of the community. Esoteric lore permits
insights
into the features of shared identity as perceived in different ways and
intensities by individuals within the community under analysis.
This
extension of the s-x argument underscores the centrality of folklore in
performance entering into the “typing” of self and others. This
approach
underscores features like age-grading, regional identification,
occupational
roles, kinship, and per- [beginning of page 376] ceived ethnic
identity
as means of entering more fully into this discussion of the way in
which
culture operates within social structures.
In essence, this shift in approach calls for an altered
status for ethnic
enclaves. The assumption of the analysis of ethnic communities
has
been that as “minorities” or “subcultures,” their separation occurs
only
so long as power is unequally distributed. With the elimination
of
inequalities, the very existence of these minorities would be
questioned.
Assimilation and acculturation are inevitable, then, so long as access
to power and responsibility are assured. Such a unilinear
developmental
approach does not recognize that there are cultural as well as economic
exchange relationships that arise out of the cultural coming-together
process,
even when the exchanges are not actually reciprocal. The reliance of
mainstream
American culture on the alternative expressive forms and styles
provided
by Afro-Americans, for instance, resulted in these Afro-American
performances
achieving a life of their own -- a life that is always ethnically
acknowledged,
but which may or may not reflect the maintenance of these traditions
within
Afro-American communities. Due to a combination of active
imitation
by Euro-Americans and the recording of the performance at some point
within
black communities (in books, phonograph recordings, or movies), which
makes
it possible for the imitators to return to the “originals” without
returning
to the communities, such forms as blues, tap-dancing, skiffle music,
and
many others have endured. Though they are now popular rather than
folk forms, inasmuch as their audience extends far beyond the ethnic
community,
their folk “roots” are widely acknowledged by their new audience.
Indeed, these dynamic community analyses of folklore often
demonstrate
precisely the ways in which certain enclaves resist assimilation
because
of differences in ethos, world view, and secular and religious
practice.
A self-consciously different religious community, especially, may
maintain
its deep sense of separation not only through a persistence of
traditional
religious practices, but also in language-maintenance and in
recapitulating
a sociocultural sense of community in which the old stories and songs
are
performed and transmitted because they continue to be employed in the
traditional
fashion. Though most such studies employ the ethnographic method
in describing the group and therefore are not primarily concerned with
the processes of oral transmission and dissemination, the lore reported
often undercuts the assumption of the inevitability of assimilation in
the contemporary world. Not insensitive to certain changes
dictated
by their new situation, the uses of the lore and the folkloric items
themselves
must be regarded not only as relics of past practices but as examples
of
a lively culturally emergent tradition as well. Such a process of
tradition-maintenance and revitalization has been widely observed not
only
in immigrant communities but among American Indians and mestizos.
FOLKLORE AND THE CONCEPT OF CREOLE CULTURE
The same questions are asked of ethnic enclaves as are asked
about regional
cultures: to what extent are their ways unique, and how much is really
shared with other communities within the American polity? This
becomes
even more problematic as the most marked features of regional or ethnic
culture become part of popular iconography and, by extension, part of
mass
culture -- the general expressive and symbolic vocabulary of the United
States. We witness just such a process in the development of
various
regional and ethic cuisines into national franchise operations.
Going
public in such a way often means needing to draw upon the very
stereotypes
that have operated as exclusionary techniques in other times and other
intercultural situations. The way in which the masters of popular
culture manipulate the images of the sleepy, sombrero-wearing Mexicans
to sell tacos and burritos, or the white-suited Southern Colonels, or
the
pearly-toothed Uncle Bens, is fascinating -- if a little fearsome -- to
behold.
Considering culture from such a perspective places emphasis
on the interaction
between cultures, especially on the importance of a coming-together of
the expressive elements from a range of traditional backgrounds.
The most common and in many ways the most productive way of studying
such
a synthesizing process would underscore the privileged status of those
forms shared by the larger society, and would therefore involve a study
of lore and language as it gravitates toward national norms and forms.
From a sociolinguistic point of view, individuals in ethnic
groups in
multi-ethnic settings often draw upon a range of codes or varieties of
talking, ranging from the most archaic or ceremonial to the most recent
slang or jargon. Each speaker within an ethnic enclave, then,
might
be studied in terms of the range of codes and varieties of speech in
which
he or she has developed a receptive (understanding) or productive
(speaking)
competence. In the language-contact situation arising from the
mass
movements of peoples, one language and one range of codes within that
language
are commonly accorded high prestige (H), often because they are the
forms
employed on literary occasions or in radio broadcasts. Other
codes
are given lower status (L), especially when they represent the language
of old and often illiterate, backward, or defeated and enslaved
people.
Individuals are judged on the one hand by an ability to control the
prestige
form, or alternatively to switch at will between different
varieties.
Some seek to gain a place of importance in the community by enacting
the
widest range of speaking styles and codes; others will make their name
by their total mastery of one form, such as oratorical English (one
kind
of H) or talk that demonstrates quick wit and a control of slang or
jargon
(forms of L).
This range of interactive and expressive codes has been
called the creole
continuum because in cultural contact situations new codes are
produced
during the earliest stages of the process of coming together.
When
these codes are predominantly organized around exchange (or trade)
relationships
between heretofore discrete language communities, the product is
commonly
referred to as pidgin. When social and familial situations draw
on this in-between way of talking and broaden its expressive
capacities,
it is referred to as a creole language. But it remains a low-status
means
of interacting unless it develops a literature (as with the
Anglo-Norman
Middle English) or some-other means of being adopted by a prestige
group.
If it remains an L [beginning of page 377] code, then, it will
constantly
be compared with H and will tend to be affected by such a
comparison.
But one cannot assume that this will produce a change in the
lower-status
varieties in the direction of the higher. The relationships, in
fact,
go both ways. The first folklore collectors to actively employ
the
idea of the creole continuum worked in Afro-American communities in the
United States and elsewhere in the New World. “Talking bad” or
“broken”
has become part of the apparatus of identity management of some blacks
(especially males) in conflict and in festive entertainment
situations.
Such ways of performing even in casual streetcorner situations are
regarded
as a contest between the “good” or respectability norms and
ideals
of the community and the more hilarious “bad” reputation-seeking
means of expression. As the linguistic varieties employed in such
bad-talk are furthest away from so-called Standard English in the
speech
continuum, these ways of talking are maintained as an alternative means
to respectability of achieving status within the community.
Further,
the ability to employ such varieties in performance forms like the epic
toasts or in blues enables the performer to assume a kind of leadership
over the reputation-seeking segment of the community. Conversely,
speaking well (especially in oratorical or philosophical standard
forms)
places one at the potential center of the respect-seeking segment of
the
community. Thus we find a good deal of actual discussion within
the
community about the bluesman with regard to the preacher, and about the
different ways of talking and performing in general. A very wide
range of codes and varieties may be maintained within the same
community
as a means of continually dramatizing the (usually playful) opposition
between these two value systems. And the person who can control
all
of these codes in their appropriate place is given very high status,
indeed.
From the perspective of the history of codes and varieties, this
situation
in which a number of historically distinct forms are maintained for
expressive
purposes runs counter to the usual way in which the language and lore
of
ethnic communities are studied. More commonly, of course,
immigrant
groups have been observed and judged with regard to how quickly and
effectively
they acculturate from the Old World language to American English.
But in social situations in which the ethnic group and alternative
languages
have been in this country for some time, as with Afro-Americans,
Mexican
Americans, and American Indians, this immigrant model of change does
not
pertain. Rather, the concern of the sociolinguistically oriented
folklorist has been to document the language situation as it maintains
a number of codes or varieties as expressive resources.
In the only work of folklore scholarship that explicitly
focuses on
a native language as it gravitates toward English, Barbara
Kirshenblatt-Gimblett
brings together a corpus of materials from Toronto’s eastern European
Jewish
community. She demonstrates that in the midst of the common
acculturation
situation, a complex of verbal traditions arose which calls for a
variable
control of both Yiddish and English and which develops an intermediate
code which she names “Yinglish.” Not only were Old World verbal
forms
kept alive while new ones were emerging from the immigration
experience,
but a large body of lore arose which turns on the active and usually
witty
commingling of these languages and cultural forms. Primary forms
in such a situation are the stories told in English with Yiddish
punchlines,
and vice versa. Kirshenblatt-Gimblett demonstrates that learning
a new language is a more complicated process than is generally
recognized,
because the very situation of change engenders verbal artistic forms as
a means of displaying the centrality of a range of performance
competencies.
This emergent lore is, in the main, metacommunicative -- made up of
lore
focusing on the character of communicating in a new sociocultural
environment.
The concept of being multicultural, then, becomes not so much a matter
of shedding one culture and donning another, but of acquiring new
cultural
and linguistic resources which, by their very quality of newness, are
“foregrounded”
as flexible and functional devices of communication. There is an
automatic foregrounding effect in such a transitional situation;
through
cultural contact the verbal lore becomes increasingly self-conscious as
it draws upon an ever-widening range of expressive resources.
Narrative
lore especially comes to be employed as the means of asserting and
testing
(and later rehearsing) the newly learned competencies. In this
situation,
the multilingual narrator becomes the model for successful
acculturation.
Capitalizing on the otherwise dying language resources, the narrator
maintains
the usefulness of the old vocabulary, the old sayings, even if they
serve
only as a resource for humorous effects.
GOING PUBLIC
The idea of employing the creole continuum to understand the
processes
affecting ethnic folklores arises from the need to recognize what
alternative
expressive resources exist for a community at any time in its
history.
By underscoring such alternatives, we become conscious of the ways in
which
verbal creativity may operate in situations otherwise described as ones
of alienation, marginalization, and exploitation. Furthermore, it
is important to recognize that ethnicity is often a dimension of the
performing
self, a choice made individually of a role to be played, made possible
by the persistence of these older ways of expression.
Looking at the coexistence of the many ethnic groups in the
United States
from outside these groups, however, presents a very different
perspective,
for the outsider is made especially aware of his nonstatus within the
community,
and of the difference between his or her traditions and those of the
group.
When there is any kind of defensiveness or social strain between such
outside
observers and the group being observed, the result is often a
stereotypical
one. “Different” comes to mean chaotic, acting like children or
even
animals; expressing another culture, then, signs having no culture --
no
style, no taste. But when such differences are dramatized in an
environment
of good will, the lack of understanding may be translated into
willingness
to learn about such cultural alternatives and even to enjoy them.
Thus, outsiders are invited in to witness how life is lived, traditions
carried on within the ethnic group. Naturally, the activities
most
available for observation and even participation are those in which the
group is on its “best behavior” -- as in rites [beginning of page
378]
and ceremonies and festive meals -- or when performing is in
progress.
In a shrinking world, the activities that attract the attention of
outsiders
will be those which have a strong sense of style and decorum.
Indeed,
it is such traditional and styles as dance, clowning, acrobatics, song
(and music in general), ceremony, the decorative arts, crafts, and
cooking
that are the most easily understood and that transcend language
differences.
Consequently, it is in these realms that we witness traditional ethnic
expression going public. Within any cultural enclave, some genres
of traditional lore and some situations of performance will be more
private
and family oriented, and some will be more public. Scenes or
events
carried on within the family or peer group are obviously more private
and
more topical in references and thus more limited in audience than the
larger
gatherings. With the growing value placed on ethnic diversity,
some
of these more private forms of aesthetic encounters are increasingly
being
developed into public presentations. We find this acceptance
operating
especially in those folk festivals employing professional folklorists,
which were greatly accelerated by political demands to be part of the
1976
Bicentennial celebrations.
Typical of this drift has been the use of festivals or fairs
or some
other kind of announced public event as a means of dramatizing ethnic
persistence
in a community or neighborhood, church, or social group. What has
been immigrant folklore and then ethnic folklore
becomes
the folklore of ethnicity. Essentially this calls for the
employment of the already public, community-wide events as a means of
gaining
an even wider public of noncommunity member participation. Events
which at one point in the history of the community were employed as a
means
of asserting and maintaining ethnic boundaries become the very
instrument
by which the boundary is opened up -- at least for the moment.
Similarly,
the more private forms become available for greater public
exposure.
Thus, for instance, the most in-group of black verbal contests become
the
focus of the staged street celebration in the African Diaspora
presentations
in the Festival of American Folklife at the Smithsonian Institution in
the summers of 1976 and 1977, while nearby, surrounded by an audience,
bartenders and cab-drivers sat in a tent telling stories they usually
reserve
for their customers or for each other.
The concept of the living-museum or folk-museum
increasingly
attempts not only to reconstruct home behaviors like
cottage-industry-style
work and cooking; in addition, performances or reports of performances
of the games, riddles, stories, and songs which are associated with the
hearth or the dining-room are imported into these essentially tourist
presentations.
It is just these public demonstrations that make distinctive ethnic
behaviors
available for performance by anyone who chooses to learn them.
Thus,
ethnic style as well as items of performance become detached from the
folk
communities that gave rise to them and are employed for entirely
different
popular effects. (In fact, this has characterized American shows
since the development of the blackface minstrel show, which drew
originally
on Afro-American traditions.) Rather than being employed within
essentially
homogeneous communities in which members meet face-to-face to entertain
and instruct each other, these ways of performing are employed in
groups
that come together only for the occasion of entertainment. Media
of record (such as print, movies, and recordings) as well as the
microphone
vastly increase the audience, and individuals perform to others not
known
personally. Folk traditions provide the materials for a
celebration
of stylistic diversity that has little to do with the ethnic community
out of which it emerges; the performance of ethnicity, far from
becoming
a statement of cultural continuity and rootedness, rather emerges as a
way of entering the marketplace economy by those carrying on the ethnic
style of performance or presentation. Everyone, at this point,
can
learn how to play a banjo or even a Japanese koto, just as they
can take lessons in how to cook (or at least eat properly) grits or sukiyaki.
This process of making public the private also often means
dramatizing
what heretofore has not been dramatic, performing acts which are not
inherently
performative. For instance, in the development of folklife
festivals,
the problem of how to present crafts and work techniques has arisen
constantly.
It early became evident that folk festival audiences are as interested
in the process of craftmaking and other work as they are in music and
dance.
Consequently, illustrating these crafts on the spot develops into
performances
as much as demonstrations. At such a point, the intermediacy of
presenters
is called for, individuals who can explain the process while it is
being
carried out. Such a figure often employs traditional narratives
such
as jokes, hero tales, and personal anecdotes as important features of
the
framing performance. At such a point, though items of verbal art
are essentially the same as those found within the folk community,
their
context and thus their meaning is substantially changes. With the
tremendous growth of ethnic-based folk festivals, the figure of the
presenter
begins to take its place beside the costumed tour guide and the
folksinger
as a popular culture role in the business of purveying ethnic folk
culture.
In such presentations, the folklore of an ethnic group is no
longer
a means of keeping the family and community together, nor even a way of
maintaining the old practices. Rather, folklore becomes part of
the
vocabulary of communicating across cultures in a situation in which the
old stereotypes and boundary-making mechanisms are rejected as
inappropriate.
Ironically then, in such public presentations, both ethnic differences
and the old folkways are kept alive but in a cultural setting as far
away
as one can imagine from the small face-to-face group in which they
persisted.
Yet the very event which most opens up family and community to outside
observation and participation has elevated the tradition-bearer to
eminence,
and has brought generations within families to perform or demonstrate
together
in ways that seem to have been dying when carried on only within the
home.
It now seems easier, in other words, to get members of younger
generations
to enact ethnically in public rather than in private. It has been
a working proposition in the folk festival movement, in fact, to bring
public approval to these old-fashioned ways so that members of the
community
will find more than family reinforcement to learn the traditional
performances
and practices. Moreover, such festivals, in seeking out
traditional
performers, often find them- [beginning of page 379] selves
dealing
with individuals who have been regarded as eccentric or even deviant
within
their home locale.
These public occasions in which demonstrations and
performances are
carried out in a real sense run contrary to ethnic persistence, for
they
become events aimed in the main at a popular audience. This
tendency
undermines the actual social base of ethnic persistence and relegates
the
fact of ethnic identification into that strange place in the possible
repertory
of roles in which to be an “ethnic” is to be a conveyor of stylistic
alternatives,
interesting ones no doubt, but with little of the sense of alternatives
held in opposition to each other. In such popular displays, the
esoteric-exoteric
factor no longer is terribly important in teh operation of the lore,
for
who is now being included and excluded? Something like this
dislocation
of boundaries seems to underlie the Polack-cycle and other such recent
joke-lore. This cycle is just the latest rendering of the
“noodle”
or “moron” principle, the derogation of a class of people because of
their
semi-human character, their strange eating and sexual habits, their
ugliness
and lack of intelligence, and so on. Though on the surface the
Polack
joke turns on traits imputed to Poles in general, it becomes clear that
those who tell these stories are not really directing them at the
Polish
people, nor even implying thta Poles exhibit such traits. Rather,
they are like the elephant jokes that find elephants wearing tennis
shoes,
climbing and jumping from trees, and taking baths -- a background of
what-if
suppositions against which generally absurd behavior can be projected
and
laughed at. These jokes are not tendentious, directed at a
specific
social problem. They maintain the language and the witty
techniques
of derision and exclusion, but on a supposed group that has little to
do
with the lives of those who tell the jokes. Ethnic behavior and,
in this case, invented ethnic behavior has become a matetr of depicting
cultural differences as eccentric rather than deviant. The result
is a strange kind of bonding rather than the exclusionary motive
contained
in the older kind of ethnically directed humor, such as dialect
jokes.
Thus, the Polack joke seems to operate within a popular culture
environment
-- one which, like the “ethnic” programs on radio and now television,
attempts
to use stereotyping as a path to social acceptance. The Polack
joke,
like “Abie’s Irish Rose,” and the folk festival, like the earlier fairs
and world expositions, operate on the principal of the acceptability of
cultural pluralism.
Bibliography
Large-scale studies of folklore and ethnicity in America are
a comparatively
recent phenomena, and most of them are not yet available in book
form.
Many of those written prior to 1970 are conveniently listed in Alan
Dundes,
Folklore
Theses and Dissertations in the United States (Austin, Tex.,
1976).
More recent studies are referred to passim in the special issue of Western
Folklore 36 (1977): 1-108, Larry Danielson, ed., which includes not
only an important introductory essay by the editor, but Stephen Stern’s
groundbreaking article, “Ethnic Folklore and the Folklore of
Ethnicity,”
7-32. One doctoral dissertation, that of Barbara
Kirshenblatt-Gimblett,
“Traditional Storytelling in the Toronto Jewish Community” (University
Microfilms: Ann Arbor, Mich., 1972) is of enormous importance.
Representative monographs on the folklore of specific ethnic
communities
are: Jerome Mintz, Legends of the Hasidim: An Introduction in the
New
World (Chicago, 1968); Robert Georges, “Matiasma: Living Folk
Belief,”
Midwest
Folklore 12 (1962): 69-74; Gregory Gizelis, Narrative
Rhetorical
Devices of Persuasion (Athens, Greece, 1976); Carla Bianco, The Two
Rosettos (Bloomington, Ind., 1974); Americo Paredes, With His
Pistol
in His Hand (Austin, 1959); and Bruce A. Rosenberg, The Art of
the
American Negro Folk Preacher (New York, 1970). Richard
Dorson’s
unique study, Bloodstoppers and Bearwalkers (Cambridge, Mass.,
1952;
reprint, 1972), surveys the lore of a multi-ethnic region, the Upper
Peninsula
of Michigan.
In Roger D. Abrahams, Positively Black (Englewood
Cliffs, N.J.,
1970), the narrative lore of Afro-Americans is surveyed with regard to
the ways in which it reflects stereotypes of self and others. The
roles of bluesmen and preachers are explored in Charles Kiel, Urban
Blues (Chicago, 1966) and John Szwed, “Musical Adaptation Among
Afro-Americans,”
Journal
of American Folklore 82 (1969): 112-121. A number of other
works
are surveyed in John Szwed and Roger D. Abrahams, An Annotated
Bibliography:
Afro-American Folklore and Culture (Philadelphia, 1978).
The authority on African communities in the New World
remains Melville
Herskovits; see The Myth of the Negro Past (Boston,
1941).
The argument goes on between the deculturizationists and the
Africanists;
the most recent summary of the latter point of view may be found in
Daniel
Crowley, ed., African Folklore in the New World (Austin, 1977).
The developmental model is derived, in part, from the work
of Herskovits,
as well as Fredrik Barth, Ethnic Groups and Boundaries (Boston,
1969). Other vauable studies are: Linda Degh, “Survival and
Revival
of European Folk Cultures in America,” Ethnologia Europaea 2-3
(1968-1969):
97-108; William Hugh Jansen, “The Esoteric-Exoteric Factor in
Folklore,”
Fabula:
Journal of Folklore Studies 2 (1959): 205-211; Robert Klymasz,
“From
Immigrant to Ethnic Folklore,” Journal of the Folklore Institute
10 (1973): 133-137; and Richard Bauman, “Differential Identity and the
Social Base of Folklore,” Journal of American Folklore 84
(1971):
31-41. A recent textbook which covers American traditions from
the
perspective of the performance of culture and ethnicity is Barre
Toelken,
The
Dynamics of Folklore (Boston, 1979). See also the
sociolinguitic
work of Dell Hymes, especially his Foundations in Sociolinguitics
(Philadelphia, 1974). Charles Ferguson discusses the distinction
between H (High) and L (Low) in “Diglossia,” Word 15 (1969):
325-340.