Speak Bird, Speak Again Part 28

"Welcome!" they said. "Welcome, Dunglet, and the path that led Dunglet, who's coming to help us with the crossing!"

"Death to Dunglet," he answered, "and the path that brought Dunglet, who ate the yogurt and the seven loaves, finished off his father and the oxen, his mother and her dough, his aunt and her clay, his second aunt and her laundry, his grandmother and her spinning, the bride and the groom, and has now come to follow them up with the blind men!"

One of them pulled a little knife out of his pocket and gashed Dung- let's belly. All the people he had devoured came tumbling out, and everything went back as it had been.

The Louse

Once a louse married a flea. One day guests came to visit them.

"O wife," said the flea. "Won't you get up and make us some dinner?"

Getting up, the louse kneaded unleavened loaves and went outside to bake them in the oven. But when she reached in, she could not bring them out. She ran to her husband the flea and said, "I wasn't able to reach them." So out he went and came toward the oven to reach for the loaves, and behold! he landed in the heart of the oven.

The louse waited for him, but he did not come back. Back to the oven she went, and lo and behold! he was burned to a crisp - qahmasane . He was as charred as charcoal.

Going then to the dump, she smeared herself with soot.

"What's the matter, O louse?" asked the dump. "Why are you smeared with soot?"

"I'm smeared with soot - saxmane," answered the louse, "for my husband the lost one - tarsne - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasn e ."

"As for me," said the dump, "I'm collapsing."

Toward evening a flock of sheep came that way.

"What's the matter, O dump?" they asked. "Why have you collapsed?"

"I've collapsed - hailane," answered the dump. "The louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - and the flea has fallen into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasane."

"As for us," said the sheep, "we're going lame."

In the morning they pa.s.sed by an olive tree.

"Why, O sheep," asked the tree, "are you lame like this?"

"We're lame - 'arjane," they answered. "The dump has collapsed - hailane - and the louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - for her husband the lost one - tarsane - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasne."

"As for me," said the tree, "I'm withering."

A bird came to perch on the tree.

"What's the matter, O olive tree?" asked the bird. "Why are you withered?"

"I'm withered - salallane," answered the tree. "The sheep are lame - arjane - the dump has collapsed - hailane - and the louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - for her husband the lost one - tarsane - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasane ."

"As for me," said the bird, "I'm plucking my feathers."

The bird then went to drink at the spring.

"What's the matter, O bird?" asked the spring. "Why are you plucked?"

"My feathers are plucked - matane," answered the bird. "The olive tree is withered - salallane - the sheep are lame - arjane - the dump has collapsed - hailane - and the louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - for her husband the lost one - tarsane - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasane ."

"As for me," said the spring, "I'm drying up."

Bedouin Arabs came to get water at the spring and found it dry.

"What's the matter, O spring?" they asked. "Why are you dry?"

"I'm dry - nasfane," answered the spring. "The bird's feathers are plucked - matane - the olive tree is withered - salallane - the sheep are lame - arjane - the dump has collapsed - hailane - and the louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - for her husband the lost one - tarsane - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasane ."

"As for us," declared the Bedouins, "we're breaking our jars."

They broke their jars and headed back to their camp. Some other Bedouins ran into them.

"Why, O Arabs," they asked, "are your jars broken?"

"Our jars are broken - kasrane," they answered. "The spring is dry - nasfane - the olive tree is withered - salallane - the sheep are lame - arjane - the dump has collapsed - hailane - and the louse is smeared with soot - saxmane - for her husband the lost one - tarsane - who fell into the oven and burned to a crisp - qahmasane ."

"And as for us," these nomads exclaimed, "we're getting out of here - rahlane !"

Afterword.

This group differs fundamentally from all the other tales in the collection. Because they are "formula" tales, requiring a verbal precision that becomes part of the content, there is little room in them for tellers to show individuality in weaving the narrative. Also, being formulaic, they are circular in structure, with the end contained in the beginning. They therefore do not reflect social reality in the same way the other tales do; rather, they serve an a.n.a.logical function, as models of that reality. The regularity and security of the social world is reflected in the predictable organization of each tale - the prescribed order that must be followed for the next step to be achieved. Thus, as a group, the tales show individuals as existing in harmonious interdependence with the environment, both animate and inanimate. In the first three tales disharmony is produced by upsetting one of the links in the chain of relations.h.i.+ps, thereby triggering a process of readjustment in all the other links until equilibrium is restored. In "The Louse," in contrast, one of the links in the chain has been destroyed, and the damage reverberates throughout the system, causing harm to all its components and preventing the restoration of equilibrium. Thus an action that appears inconsequential at the microscopic level, when multiplied throughout the chain, can damage the entire community.

Despite the similarity in form, the tales are nevertheless marked by differences in detail that set each apart from the others. "The Little She-Goat," one of the most popular children's tales in the country, lends itself to allegorical interpretation, with the she-goat standing for the underdog and the hyena (which in some versions is represented as a ghoul) representing oppressive authority. With courage and community cooperation, the she-goat is able to liberate her children from the belly of the monster. It is instructive to observe how the alliances in the tale are worked out. Even though the hyena can get help from the other animals as long as he gives something in return, the domestic goat is the only animal that receives help, from the blacksmith, with no conditions attached; thus human beings and domestic animals are in alliance against the forces of the wild. Like "Dunglet," the tale teaches us that, despite his awe-inspiring appearance, the monster is not so fearful after all.

The dialectic of domestic versus wild on which the tale of the she-goat turns helps us understand the next tale, "The Old Woman and Her. Cat." Although the cat is a domestic animal, it has not totally lost its wild impulses and so does not hesitate to lap up the old woman's milk as soon as an opportunity presents itself. This observation is confirmed by the fact that few households keep cats as pets. In the villages, where food has traditionally been scarce, little is left over for pets; cats therefore lead a semiwild existence, living on the sc.r.a.ps tossed to them and on what they can hunt in the fields or steal from people's homes. Thus the cat's theft of the old woman's milk would not be an unusual occurrence; it would, however, be unusual for the old woman to keep a cat when she could not feed it. The taming of the cat, then, seems to be the point of the tale. By acting selfishly in lapping up the milk, the cat, although acting according to its nature, is behaving in a manner contrary to the norms of the society. And the routine of sending him out to regain his tail is a way of teaching him the meaning of cooperation and interdependence. The theme of nature versus culture, in fact, is prominent in Palestinian folklore, and the cat is often used emblematically to typify the sort of creature that, no matter how refined it appears to be, still preserves its wild nature underneath.

In many respects, "Dunglet" is similar to "The Little She-Goat." In both tales the ghoulish figure is overcome by being slashed in the belly so that those he had devoured may return to their previous condition. The belly thus serves as a central image to convey concretely the idea of greed, which the ghoul usually personifies in the tales. Both tales, like all folktales, champion the weak underdog against the strong and powerful.

In "The Little She-Goat," the hyena was seen to represent oppressive authority. The tale of "Dunglet," too, deals with a social evil, namely, the oppression of children by adult members of the extended family. We note that the initial wish to have a child is utilitarian: the family needs someone to take the food out to the father. Further, wherever the child turns, all his relatives perceive him only in terms of his usefulness to them. He seems to exist only insofar as he can be of use. Certainly, in such an environment the child would harbor an intense resentment toward his family, and the figure of Dunglet may therefore be seen, from the child's point of view, as a justified magnification of that resentment.

Yet "Dunglet" is a more complex tale than would appear at first sight. It demonstrates clearly the organic relations.h.i.+p (discussed in the afterword to Group V) between the human world and the supernatural, which, taken together, form a unitary reality. In "Dunglet," as in "Sumac!" (Tale 8), the wish for strange offspring originates in the mind of the mother; the ghoulish figure, in other words, is a symbolic externalization of conditions already existing within the social system. The harmonious functioning of the individual within this system is presumed to be the normal state of affairs. The individual's thought process, although invisible, is nevertheless understood to be as "real" as are material manifestations of reality. Hence, Dunglet's mother can act upon the world merely by wis.h.i.+ng. Socially isolated because she has no children, in her despair she challenges her destiny by asking for something absurd (cf. Tale 1, n. 3). Indirectly, the tale admonishes its listeners against having evil thoughts, for the possibility exists that this evil will materialize and harm others. It is this sort of "materialization" of thought that lies behind the belief in the evil eye (alluded to in the preceding afterword to Group III and discussed in Tale 19, n. 4).

The tale of "Dunglet" also demonstrates clearly the relations.h.i.+p between ghoulishness and appet.i.te, and teaches an important lesson about the metaphorical significance of "devouring." Palestinian mothers threaten their children with the devouring ghoul from an early age, and even though no one knows what a ghoul looks like, each has his or her own image of it. That is why it is said that ghouls can take any shape. Now, Dunglet is the shape that his mother's hunger takes: he is an eternal belly, always devouring but never satisfied; he has the power to destroy anyone who can see him, especially members of his family. The only way to destroy him is to pierce his belly, the locus of his appet.i.te, yet the only ones who have the power to do so are the blind men, who cannot even see him. In short, those who are themselves hungry cannot liberate themselves from the illusion of his power; they have been "devoured," overcome by the power of appearance.

As for "The Louse," this tale provides a kind of model for the sympathy that people feel for each other in case of disaster. Here we find the reverse of the process of ident.i.ty discussed in the afterword to Group III: although the individual derives his ident.i.ty from the collectivity, that collectivity in turn shares the fate of the individual. Thus the collectivity is understood in its native context to be not necessarily an oppressive force, but a community of feeling wherein an individual's fate can act upon the society at large and hence affect its destiny.

GROUP V.

UNIVERSE.

The Woman Who Fell into the Well

Once there were some men who had been out selling, you might say, charcoal and were on their way home. As they were traveling, one of them said, "G.o.d forsake you! By Allah, we're hungry!"

"O So-and-So!" they said. "Stop by and ask for something for us."

Stopping by a house to ask for something, he found a woman at home.

"I entreat you in Allah's name, sister," he said, "if you have a couple of loaves of bread, let me have them for these cameleers. We're on the road from faraway places, and we're hungry."

"Of course," she said, and reached for the bread, giving him what Allah put within her means to give - a loaf, maybe two.

And, by Allah, on his way out of the house, he stumbled over a dog tied to a tree. Startled, the man fell backwards, and behold! he ended up in a well that happened to be there. It was a dry well and held no water at all.

"There is no power and no strength except in Allah!" exclaimed the woman.

"O sister," the man cried out, "lower the rope and pull me out!"

Throwing him the rope, the woman started to pull him out but when he almost reached the mouth of the well her strength failed her. His weight grew too heavy for her, and she fell into the well with him.

"There is no power and no strength except in Allah!" exclaimed the man. "But don't worry, sister. By Allah's book, you're my sister!" And they sat together for a while.

Now, her brothers were seven, and with their plowman they were eight, and they were all out plowing the fields. In a while the plowman showed up.

"Hey, So-and-So!" he called out. "Hey, So-and-So!" But she did not answer.

After a while, she called out from the well, "Pull me out!"

When he had pulled her and the man out, she said, "Such and such is the story, and please protect my reputation. By Allah, this man is like my brother. Protect me, and don't tell my brothers. They'll kill me. And come harvest time, when my brothers pay your wages, I'll add two measures to your share. Just don't tell on me!"

"Fine," said the plowman.

A day went and a day came, and they harvested the grain and threshed it. He took his wages, and the sister gave him extra.

"What did you do this year," asked his wife, "that So-and-So's household gave you extra?"

"By Allah," replied the man, "he who protects another's reputation, Allah will protect his reputation in turn."

"Impossible!" she insisted. "You must tell me what happened, or else you'll wors.h.i.+p one G.o.d and I another!"

"By Allah," he said, "there was a girl who had fallen into a well with a man, and I pulled her out."

Now the wife, when she sat together with the other women, used to say, "Did you know? So-and-So - my husband pulled her out of the well, and she had a man with her!"

This woman told that one, and so on, until her brothers got hold of the news.

"We must kill her," they said.

The girl, catching on to their intentions, ran away at night. Eventually she came to a tent, and lo! there was a young man in this tent, living together with his mother. They let her stay with them, and the mother would bring food in to her.

Now, the man was a bachelor, and his mother said, "Son, by Allah, this girl has filled my eye. She's very nice, and I'd like to approach her for you."

"Yes, mother," he said. "If you want me to marry her, speak with her."

"O So-and-So!" said the mother. "What do you think? My son I have no one but him. What do you say to my marrying you to him?"

"I'll marry him," the girl replied.

She married him. After that, she became pregnant and gave birth to a boy whom she called Maktub. Then she became pregnant again and delivered, giving birth to a girl whom she called Kutbe. Again she became pregnant and delivered, giving birth to a boy whom she cared Mqaddar.

Meanwhile, her brothers were roaming the countryside looking for her. One day, coming by where she was, they said, "By Allah, it's getting late, and we'd like to take shelter with you for the night." (See how destiny works!) After they came in and sat down, their host prepared them the dinner which Allah placed within his means, and they ate. The father kept saying, "Come here, Maktub! Go over there, Kutbe!" The whole time it was like that, "Kutbe this, Maktub that, and Mqaddar this!"

As they were sitting after dinner, they said, "Let us tell of our adventures." Then they said, "The first tale's on the host."

"All right," he said. "I'd like to tell you about what happened to me in my time. Where are you folks from?"

"By Allah," they answered, "you might say we're from the hills around Hebron."

"By Allah," he said, "I had an adventure when I was a young man of twenty."

"Please proceed!" they said.

"By Allah," he began his tale, "we were salesmen, traveling in your part of the country. One day we were hungry. 'So-and-So!' said my companions, 'Stop off and beg a few loaves for us.' By Allah, I stopped by this girl - May Allah protect her reputation! 'For the sake of Allah, sister,' I begged, 'if you can spare us a couple of loaves of bread! We're camel drivers, and we're traveling.' By Allah, reaching for some loaves of bread, that n.o.ble woman handed them to me and said, 'Brother, make sure to sidestep the trunk of that tree. There's a dog tied to it, and it might charge you. Take care not to fall into the well.' And by Allah, folks, she hadn't even finished her words of warning, when the dog rushed at me. And he no sooner attacked than I was startled and fell into the well."

Now the plowman, who was traveling with them, said, "I must go out. I have to peel"