Dynamics Of Folklore

3. The Folk Performance

C.hapter '3 TH£ FOLl' l'£l2-FOl2-MANl:.£ IT IS DIFFICULT, IF NOT IMPOSSIBLE, TO DESCRIBE THE DYNAMICS OF FOLKLORE without referring to traditional events or performances, vernacular expressions articulated among members of a high context group. Just as the dynamics discussed in Chapter 2 are only hypothetical if nothing happens, so a traditional performance or event tells us little if it does not occur in a traditional framework . For this reason, John Miles Foley calls performance "the enabling event" in which the referents supplied by tradition are brought to life by the skilled articulations ofspeakers, singers, builders, weavers, and other vernacular artists. This chapter focuses on performance as a central aspect ofdynamics by showing some details of traditional expressive interaction. "P£~FO~MANC'(, IN "PLAC.£ The following anecdote of a Navajo storytelling event concentrates on the people and how they did what they did, their ideas concerning what happened, their reasons, how they got into the event, and how the whole interaction was seen by three non-Navajo visitors. A later chapter focuses on the inventory of ingredients for such events, but obviously, in reality, events as dynamic performances and people as dynamic participants cannot be separated. c.onte~t Background: three folklorists (Barre Toelken, Jan Harold Brunvand, John Wilson Foster) have arrived at a Navajo home after a long drive. Toelken is already known to the family; the other two are interested observers. Setting: a small frame house in a desert town in southern Utah, just north of the Navajo reservation. The inhabitants of the house are Navajo and have moved off the reservation because of hard times. The children go to public school but their parents try to keep home life traditional. Everyone speaks Navajo at home; the parents speak only a few words of English. 111 liS 11'1£ fOLt:: 'P£\l-fO\l-MANC.£ Time: about 9:30 P.M. in late December. There is snow on the ground, and it is very cold. This is the time of year when Coyote stories can (and should) be told. And this is the only season when string figures can be made. Situation: the father, Yellowman, sits in a chair, dozing; small children are playing on the floor. The mother weaves on a vertical loom at the far side of the room. The folklorists sit quietly, talking occasionally in low tones. In White American terms, nothing is happening, although in Navajo custom this is a common way ofenjoying someone's company. One hour passes in this manner. The teen-age children of the family come in suddenly, accompanied by a Mormon missionary, who wakes up the father to remind him that the children should be in church this coming Sunday. He notices the White visitors: "You fellows with the Bureau ofIndian Affairs?" "No, just friends, visiting." There is a puzzled look from the missionary; he departs. The teenagers say hello and sit down quietly; the father returns to a half-doze. After about fifteen minutes he says sleepily, in Navajo, "Perhaps these visitors are Mormons, too?" "No," I reply, "this one is from back East originally; he likes to study old stories, as I do. This other one is from Ireland." This translates in Navajo as "He comes from beyond the ocean," and Helen Yellowman turns suddenly from her loom, grins, and holding her hands as if using a machine gun, makes a whispered t-t-t-t-t sound. "What does she mean?" asks Foster. "She thinks you're from Vietnam; that's also called 'beyond the ocean.'" Foster replies, "Tell her Vietnam is a vicarage tea party compared to Northern Ireland." The translation suffers and the macabre humor is missed. There is some puzzlement, but general cheer ensues because the visitors are not Mormons. "Now let's have some coffee," Yellowman says. The. l'e.rformanc.e. Everyone converges on the kitchen. While coffee is being prepared, Brunvand asks for a piece of string; he has a game he wants to show the children, and he pretends not to know the Navajos' great interest in string games. He makes a simple cat's cradle and shows it to a nearby child of about ten. "Could you do that?" The boy asks him innocently to do it again, slowly. Then, with mock care and deliberation, the boy reproduces the same figure perfectly, holds it up briefly, and then starts quickly on a more complicated one. He asks Brunvand with a grin, "Can you do that...