Speak Bird Speak Again (46 page)

41.

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 passed 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 analogical 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 relationships, 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 scraps 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 relationship (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 wishing. 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
relationship between ghoulishness and appetite, 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 appetite, 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 identity discussed in the
afterword to Group III: although the individual derives his identity
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

42.

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,
"God 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!"