The Totems of Abydos (45 page)

“No,” said Rodriguez.

“Too,” said Brenner, “in various cultures one does not even publicly identify the totem. One conceals the true totem. One does not even dare to refer to the totem by its real name.”

“That does not fit,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“The totem group has totem dances, in which the movements and actions of the totem animal are imitated, and the dancers may even disguise themselves as the totem animal itself.”

“We have seen no evidence of such dances, or feasts, or festivals,” said Brenner.

“The totem is almost always an animal,” said Rodriguez, “but it may occasionally be a natural object, and, sometimes, though this is unusual, an artificial, or manufactured, object.”

Brenner nodded. On some worlds a discarded watch, or clock, or radio, had been treated as a totem by primitives. But, presumably they had taken it as alive. Did its hands not move, or did it not speak? Later, when the hands were still or the device silent, they would wait patiently for it to move or speak again, sometimes for generations, that it had ever done so becoming a matter of faith. Too, of course, to a savage almost any manufactured object might appear exotic, mysterious, divine, miraculous. Who could understand a rubber ball, its regularity, its consistency, its liveliness, or a glass jar, in its transparency, like ice that did not melt? But most totems were animals. The git, of course, was an animal.

“The animal is a much more likely totem,” said Rodriguez. “The primitive mind often regards animals, rather as children are wont to do, as fellow creatures, and equals.”

“That is now common on several worlds,” Brenner reminded Rodriguez.

“No, I mean
really
,” said Rodriguez. “I am not talking about moralistic cant, pretentious moral poses, prescribed hypocrisies, vacuous sentimentalities which are not taken seriously except by an occasional lunatic, and such, no, I mean
really
.”

“Oh,” said Brenner.

“That is quite different,” said Rodriguez.

“True,” said Brenner.

“The animal is alive, it is conscious, it is real, it seems much the same to the primitive as himself. He respects it. He talks to it. He worries about its feelings. He wonders what it is thinking. He begs its pardon if he must kill it.”

“Interesting,” said Brenner. To be sure, from his point of view, there did not seem much difference between the Pons and the git. To be sure, the Pons did have a culture. They could speak, and such.

“Thus it is a natural choice for the totem,” said Rodriguez.

“Doubtless,” said Brenner.

“The natural-object totem and the artificial-object totem, thus, would seem to presuppose the animal totem. Such totemisms would seem best understood as being derived from, or suggested by, a more primitive institution of totemism, namely, that of animal totemism.

“Their rareness, too,” said Brenner, “would suggest that they are more recent developments.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“I think it is very likely,” said Brenner, “that with the Pons we are encountering a very early, an almost original, a very pure form of totemism.”

“I would think so, “ said Rodriguez, “particularly considering their inferior mentality, their rudimentary cerebral development, their lack of a technology, their general primitiveness.”

“Correct,” said Brenner. He was thinking about the brunette, and how beautiful she had been in her chains, on his bed, helpless, pleading with him, tears in her eyes, to be merciless with her, to complete her subjugation, without which she could not be herself.

“The animal chosen is almost always a lively animal,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner nodded. Some typical totem animals, he knew, were birds, snakes, lizards and mice. The git, for example, was mouselike.

“Why?” asked Rodriguez.

“I don’t know,” said Brenner.

“Because they are thought to be ensouled,” said Rodriguez.

“There you touch on many common theories, of course,” said Brenner.

“Specify,” said Rodriguez.

“You know them better than I,” said Brenner.

“Which do you have in mind?”

“One theory thinks that the totem is a repository for the savage’s outward soul,” said Brenner, “that he hides it there, to keep it safe, that he himself may in effect become invulnerable. Another is that the spirits of the dead enter into the totem animals and live on in this fashion. Thus the animals may be reverenced, and thought of as ancestors, and such.”

“Such theories seem to me unlikely,” said Rodriguez. “Surely the savage is familiar with his own vulnerability, or, if not his own, that of others. Surely he has seen tribal members die while the totem animal survives. Thus his soul is not in the totem animal, who keeps it safe for him. Similarly, if he thought it was his own soul which was in the totem animal, it seems unlikely that he would refer to the totem animal as “father” and “ancestor.” It also seems quite unlikely that the savage believes that the spirits of the dead enter into the totem animal. There is presumably one totem, so to speak, not many, not thousands, or hundreds of thousands, one for each departed soul. Too, individual totem animals can obviously die. If each contained a departed soul this might seem to suggest that that soul died, too, which consequence would presumably be regarded as at least unwelcome, if not actually unacceptable. To be sure, one can always save any hypothesis with enough ad-hoc qualifications. The soul might hurry to another totem animal, or something.”

“That seems unlikely,” said Brenner. “They do speak, however, of the totem as “primal father,” as “ancestor,” and such.”

“But that, too, upon reflection, is a clear mark against the multiple-souls theory,” said Rodriguez. “Not all departed souls would be those of males, let alone of fathers. Too, even of fathers, presumably there would be many fathers, not just one.”

“True,” mused Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez. “We may regard the totem animal as ensouled, so to speak, but it would have its own soul, so to speak, not someone else’s soul. It is its own thing.”

“That seems to me most likely,” said Brenner. “What of the theory that the totem animal is a guardian spirit acquired by an ancestor, say, in a dream, and handed down to descendants?”

“Such things are seldom bequeathed,” said Rodriguez. “They must be earned independently, often in fasting, prayer, and visions. The medicine animal of the father is seldom that of the son. Too, such things would presumably be handed down, if at all, through a given line of descent, not within an interrelated complexus of descent lines, such as those, say, of phratries and subphratries. Similarly the medicine animal is not regarded as an ancestor, or father. It is more in the nature of a tutelary ally.”

“What is your theory?” asked Brenner.

“That the totemistic peoples mean what they say,” said Rodriguez. “That they conceive the totem literally as the progenitor of their people, that they think of it, truly, as the primal ancestor, as the father.”

“Surely they understand procreation,” said Brenner.

“What is clear to you may not be clear to someone else,” said Rodriguez, “and, if you were in their place, it might not be clear to you. Procreation is undoubtedly mysterious to many primitive groups, in particular, in societies practicing group marriage, and in societies where descent is traced matrilineally, and so on.”

“It is easier to know the mother than the father,” smiled Brenner.

“More importantly,” said Rodriguez, “it is easier to know that there is a
mother
than that there is a father.”

“Interesting,” said Brenner.

“Animals are presumably unclear about the nature of procreation,” said Rodriguez.

“Surely,” said Brenner.

“And often children,” said Rodriguez.

“True,” said Brenner.

“Consider the matter,” said Rodriguez. “Coition and birth are not resembling events. Too, they are separated in time, often by months. The discovery that they are related, as cause and effect, if you stop to think about it, is actually an intellectual achievement of the first magnitude. Indeed, it is not even possible, obviously, to trace descent patrilineally until this discovery has been made.”

“The Pons trace descent matrilineally, supposedly,” said Brenner.

“That is universal with totemistic groups,” said Rodriguez.

“You think they do not understand procreation?” asked Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez. “I think it is rather because of the great importance of the totem and the fact that it is easier, as you pointed out, to know the mother than the father. In such a group it is extremely important for the child to know his totem. You must understand that. Too, considering the exogamy regulations it is important that the group know his totem, as well. Without the totem an individual in a totemistic society is lost, so to speak, placeless, homeless, metaphysically orphaned, a creature who does not know himself, a refugee, a wanderer, a stranger, an outcast, something without identity or meaning, one who is without status, one who is, in effect, nothing. He will be scorned. He will be held in contempt. He may even be driven out. In totemistic cultures, thusly, it is natural for descent to be traced matrilineally, that it be to the totem of the mother, and not that of the father, who may not be known, that the child belongs.”

“I see,” said Brenner.

“You will note the anomaly,” said Rodriguez, “that the primal ancestor is referred to as “father,” although descent is traced matrilineally.”

“They do understand procreation then,” said Brenner.

“Or have come to understand it,” said Rodriguez. “We may be dealing with cognitive retrojections.”

“I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“The original concept may not have been, and quite possibly was not, that of a father in the simple biological sense of a progenitor, that might not even have been understood, but of something else, perhaps that of a large, powerful, feared, dreaded, dominant male, a tyrant, a governor, an overlord, a claimer of, herder of, and possessor of, and perhaps a jealous and ruthless possessor of, the group’s females.”

“This would be presumably with single-adult-male, isolated groups,” said Brenner.

“They speak of “father,” not “fathers,” said Rodriguez.

“That form of social structure is quite at odds with that of the Pons,” said Brenner.

“Indeed,” said Rodriguez, “it would seem to be, for most practical purposes, the exact opposite.”

“It is a possible grouping,” said Brenner.

“Such groupings exist,” said Rodriguez.

“They can perpetuate themselves?” asked Brenner.

“Certainly,” said Rodriguez.

“I think I would fear such a male,” said Brenner.

“Your feelings would most likely be a mixture of dread and awe, of fear and reverence,” said Rodriguez. “That beast is not only lord and tyrant, but, too, it is clearly understood, he is guide, protector. and leader, keeper of the peace, instiller of order. With him, under his rod of iron, in virtue of his jaws, his might, the jungle is kept at bay. Predators fear him. He makes possible his group. He is a source of security and needed authority.”

“But it is an
animal
that is spoken of as “father,”” said Brenner.

“We are dealing with primitives,” said Rodriguez. “The concept may be mystical. Too, in a world where little is understood, it might not seem impossible that an animal might father a different form of race.”

“It seems I know little more about the Pons now than before,” said Brenner.

“Having an animal, and one animal, as the “father,”” said Rodriguez, “solves another problem which has been little noticed, a sort of logical, or philosophical, problem, likely to be frightening to a primitive mind.”

“What is that?” asked Brenner.

“It avoids the infinite regress of fathering, with its terrors,” said Rodriguez. “If the father had a father, and that father a father, and so on, it seems that there could not be a first father, but the primitive mind wants a first father, but it seems that no ordinary father could be the first father. Thus the series might be begun with a different father, the totem. This gives us a beginning to the line, that desired first father, and one which, because of its nature, other than that of a normal father, stands outside the normal lines of fathering, thus not being itself exposed to the same difficult question of the father’s father, and so on, which a
normal
“first father” would require.”

“One might ask where the totem came from,” said Brenner, “or about its father, and so on.”

“No,” said Rodriguez. “You are thinking of the totem there as though it were only an ordinary animal, a mere biological creature. It is more than that. It is mystical. It is the totem.”

“I see,” said Brenner.

“Everyone stops asking questions at one point or another,” said Rodriguez. “The only question is where. Where the totemistic savage stops asking them is not obviously inferior to a number of other places, even more obscure or eccentric, where one might stop asking them.”

“Perhaps not,” said Brenner.