Don't Sleep, There Are Snakes (37 page)

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the people who have made the experiences recounted in this book and the writing of it possible. Foremost among all are the Pirahãs. They have taught me many things over the past decades of my life. Their brilliance, their beauty, their patience, their faithful friendship, and their love for me and my family have made my world a better place.

Next I would like to thank the employees of the Brazilian National Indian Foundation (FUNAI) in Pôrto Velho, especially Seu Osman and Seu Rómulo, for their support of my research for many years. Osman and I began working with Amazonian Indians at nearly the same time. I have always been impressed by his selfless dedication to the cause of Brazil’s Indians.

My former wife, Keren, was with me through most of the experiences recounted here, and I thank her for many memories. Shannon, Kristene, and Caleb helped me come out alive and sane through every danger and trial. Without my family none of the experiences and lessons in this book would have happened. The changes documented in
chapter 17
have strained our relationships, but as the apostle Paul rightly declared, love is greater than all other feelings.

Steve Sheldon, who preceded me as missionary to the Pirahãs, supported me as a friend and as a mission administrator for many years. From first introducing me to the Pirahãs all those years ago, to typing my Ph.D. dissertation, to corresponding with me about all sorts of issues and questions for over thirty years, Steve has helped me more than I can say. In particular, I want to thank him for the example that he and his predecessor, the first missionary to the Pirahãs, Arlo Heinrichs, set in their relations with the “straight ones.” Many Pirahãs still recall how Arlo hunted for them and fed them during the measles epidemic of the early 1960s. Old men credit Arlo and Steve for the continued survival of the Pirahãs as a people. I hope that the medical help I have provided to the Pirahãs for these past three decades has been some small repayment for their inestimable contributions to my own life—that the children who would have died but now are living because of something as simple as an injection of chloroquine or penicillin will remember Paóxaisi.

I could not have written this book without the generous support of my colleagues at Illinois State University. I cannot imagine a warmer, more helpful academic home. My colleagues in the Department of Languages, Literatures, and Cultures have all tolerated my enthusiasm for this project. ISU’s president, Al Bowman, has been encouraging on multiple occasions. Gary Olson has been the most helpful and encouraging dean I have ever had and it is a pleasure to acknowledge his support here.

I also want to thank people who have helped me by reading and commenting on drafts of all or parts of this book. Some of them have made so many detailed comments that the book would have been greatly inferior without their generous help: Manfred Krifka, Shannon Russell, Kristene Diggins, Linda Everett, Mitchell Mattox, Mike Frank, Heidi Harley, Jeanette Sakel, Ted Gibson, Robert Van Valin, Geoffrey Pullum, Cormac McCarthy, C. C. Wood, and John Searle. David Brumble, my former dean at the University of Pittsburgh, made contributions far beyond the obligations of friendship. With humor and directness, he made suggestions that helped me say some things more clearly.

Over the past twenty-five years, my research on Amazonian languages has been supported by the National Science Foundation, the National Endowment for the Humanities, the European Union (via a grant for Characterizing Human Language by Structural Complexity), the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the Economics and Social Research Council of the United Kingdom, and the Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo. Thanks to all of these entities for allowing me to use the tax dollars of Brazilian, European, British, and American citizens for the study of endangered languages of the Amazon.

The New Yorker
photographer Martin Schoeller was incredibly generous in making available his photos of the Pirahãs for this book.
The New Yorker
writer John Colapinto was helpful indirectly in setting a high standard for writing about my life among the Pirahãs. Many times while writing this book, I drew inspiration from John’s “deathless prose.”

My editor at Pantheon, Edward Kastenmeier, has given generously of his time to discuss this book with me on numerous occasions, always trying to help me describe the Pirahãs more effectively and to let them stand out as the rightful focus of these pages. John Davey, my editor with Profile Books, also offered many useful comments and words of encouragement throughout the writing.

Finally, but most important, I want to thank my agent, Max Brockman. It was Max’s vision that made this book a reality. His confidence convinced me that perhaps I could do this.

A Note about the Author

Footnotes

To return to the corresponding text, click on the reference number or "Return to text."

13 How Much Grammar Do People Need?

*The concept of esoteric communication comes from work by Carol Thurston and by George Grace and Alison Wray. Its relevance to the analysis of Pirahã was first suggested in research by Jeanette Sakel and Eugenie Stapert, of the University of Manchester, England. Esoteric communication is communication that is used within, and partially defines, a well-defined group. Esoteric communication facilitates understanding because hearers are likely to anticipate what speakers are going to say in different situations. The language is not limited to old or predictable information, but that is the default. In fact, in Pirahã there is a special channel, as we have seen, musical speech, that is used for new information. This might explain the relative richness of both prosody and phonemes in musical speech—new information might require a slower rate of information and greater perceptibility in an esoteric group in the sense intended here. The linguist Tom Givon refers to a concept similar to esoteric communication in his phrase
society of intimates.
By this felicitous expression, Givon refers to small groups of people who speak together frequently and form a culture group together. Such groups share a greater amount of implicit information than other groups, even other groups who speak the same language.
Return to text.

16 Crooked Heads and Straight Heads:
Perspectives on Language and Truth

*English imperative sentences, to be sure, usually appear without a subject, as in
Run!
But linguists agree that there is an
understood
subject here, since the subject of an imperative is always
you.
When I say “Run!” I don’t mean that just anyone should run, but that
you
should run.
Return to text.

Copyright © 2008 by Daniel L. Everett
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited.

Pantheon Books and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

All photographs are copyright Martin Schoeller

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Everett, Daniel Leonard.
Don’t sleep, there are snakes: life and language
in the Amazonian jungle / Daniel L. Everett.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
eISBN: 978-0-307-37779-1
1. Pirahã Indians—Amazon River Region—Social life
and customs. 2. Pirahã dialect—Social aspects—Amazon
River Region. 3. Jungles—Amazon River Region.
4. Amazon River Region—Social life and customs. I. Title.
F2520.1.M9E94 2008
305.898’9—dc22                           2008016306

www.pantheonbooks.com

eISBN: 978-0-307-37779-1

v3.0