Ishmael & Narratives LO3460

J.Mullen@agora.stm.it
Fri, 27 Oct 95 23:13:13 GMT

Replying to LO3393 --

I had originally intended this entry to follow Jim Saveland's Book
Review - Ishmael LO3073 , but I thought I'd tack it on here since Ron
Mallis in LO3393 has brought up what to me is an essential point. That
is, narratives, the telling of stories.

When I was a young, trusting student I used to assume that
"History" was carved in stone. That "History" was an account of "what
really happened," that it was all "scrupulously researched by those
trained in historic analysis." It seemed larger than life. Impressive
and sacred and daunting. "History," codified with the authority of a text
book, spoke to me of wars, political subterfuge, and economic embargoes,
of kings beheading their queens, of legions conquering far off lands.
This, it seemed, was the REAL work of nations. The rest was fluff.

"History," as I learned it, appeared to condone. Teach a mindset
with which to consider events. Convey what is important and credible and
worthy within the collective memory. A mechanism of mythmaking in modern
society. Sanctifying the tale with its "scientific method." "Just the
facts, ma'am." As if context and motivation were dwelling in a murky
emotionality that would cloud one's vision, taint one's "objectivity."

But, of course, "History" is yet another case of "everything said
is said by someone." It is a story. A social narrative. Cultural
baggage packed tight.

The other night on TV, after midnight, when anything good is
broadcast here, I watched with awe a transmission consisting of interviews
with some Montessori school children in Rome. These were the wisest, most
introspective, well-adjusted 9-or-so year olds I have ever heard or seen.
Pushed my envelope of "being a kid" to new limits.

At one point, a young girl describing her previous evening's
adventurous dream, burst out "It's so beautiful. Being a protagonist is
the most wonderful thing there is!"

Seems rather self-evident. Yet consider that in most universities
there is still an ongoing separation between the various flavors of
"History" (a culture's narrative) and Women's studies, Afro-American
studies, Asian studies, Native American studies, etc. etc. "History"
being considered, well, "History." While the others might get thrown into
the much loved euphemism, "special interest groups."

Isn't the whole point that every individual deserves society's
respect as the protagonist in his or her own story? That these individual
narratives make up a culture's collective History? "Counternarratives"
are, in the end, "narratives" of equal weight as all others. Imagine
growing up considering yourself the daring protagonist in creating your
own story, a socially valued unique tale. Gosh... now there's a
stretch...

Yet, overtly or otherwise, there is still the ever present idea
that a General is a protagonist, but a Homemaker is not. A CEO is a
protagonist, but a Data Processor is not. A Theorist is a protagonist,
but a Potato Farmer is not. (Yipes, all these labels!) That there is
something inherently more "protagonistic" in making war and economic
agendas (especially when the metaphor's business = war!), than in creating
social relationships and meaning. So while these cultural priorities,
this hierarchy of experience, are constantly reinforced in our films, our
TV programs, our advertisements, and our places of study or work, we can
see it most strongly reflected in our expectations and respect for
ourselves.

Well... this is my opinion, at least.

This said, I'd like to comment about Jim's statement "Our task is
not to reach back but to reach forward."

I suppose I just don't trust "History" enough to think that
"reaching back" is going to pull up some accurate representation of the
past. So I agree with not reaching back in this sense. Our understanding
of the past is partial and conjectural at best. However, I think
"reaching back" is important for those whose stories have never been told
with the respect due to them. Those who have never been considered
protagonists in the long-told dusty annals. I think there is much to
learn from these re-tellings. There is much courage and vision to be
found. So, in this sense, I think reaching back is essential to reaching
forward. I don't mean the same story will necessarily be continued into
the future, but the past, remembered well, adds richness to the present.

And, finally, a couple of comments about Ishmael.

For those interested, I think it might be worth checking out a
different perspective on the agricultural revolution. Most of the reading
I have done sets the events up very differently both in chronology and in
tone. Baring and Cashford in "The Myth of the Goddess" state that "the
evolution from one age to another was not sudden and spectacular, not
'revolutionary' as it was first believed to be, but slow and irregular...
The movement of consciousness in the Neolithic is one of differentiation
and proliferation, but there is no loss of the original sense of unity,
which is now explicitly explored through the myth of the goddess." In this
compendium on the evolution of the female image in Western mythology, Cain
and Abel show up well into Chapter Four. More specifically on the
archeological and cultural aspects of this relatively recently excavated
period, is anything by Marija Gimbutas. Very, very interesting reading.

Quinn's interpretation didn't seem to shake from my head the
images of a people evolving from the opening scenes of Kubrick's 2001:
Space Odyssey. The dramatic music, the slinging of weapons, lots of
grunting, the thirst for blood. Seems that it's culturally difficult to
imagine the whole epoch set to, say, Vivaldi's Four Seasons, with flitting
butterflies, and sharing and cuddling and play. Of course, neither is
probably too close, but isn't it interesting what a different light each
throws on the nature/ nurture debate??? The course evolution may take.

I thought that the following bit from Quinn needed a bit more,
umm... rumination...

Here's page 135...

"Given an expanding food supply, any population will expand. This
is true of any species, including the human. The Takers have been proving
this here for ten thousand years. For ten thousand years they've been
steadily increasing food production to feed an increased population, and
every time they've done this, the population has increased still more."

Umm.. . Humans do not enter estrus. Unlike the rest of
animal-kind, we do not go into "heat." Sexual activity is influenced by
lots of cultural factors other than 'fat and happy.' Maybe there's a wee
bit more complex way to look at population increase....

Let me tie in this point... page 148...

"Why _Mother_ Culture? I personally have no difficulty with it,
but I can imagine that some women would, on the grounds that you seem to
be singling out a figure of _specifically_ female gender to serve as a
cultural villain."
Ishmael grunted. "I don't consider her a _villain_ in any sense
whatever, but I understand what you're getting at. Here is my answer:
Culture is a mother everywhere and at every time, because culture is
inherently a nurturer - the nurturer of human societies and life-styles.
Among Leaver peoples, Mother Culture explains and preserves a life-style
that is healthy and self-sustaining. Among Taker peoples she explains and
preserves a life-style that has proven to be unhealthy and
self-destructive."

I have no problem with the fact that he is personifying culture,
or personifying it as a nurturing mother. I only say "Danger! Beware of
stereotype!" Mothers can be nurturing, but so can fathers. There are
also mothers who are not nurturing at all. T'aint nuthin' "inherently a
nurturer" about cultures or mothers, in my book.

Consider again Quinn's assertion about population growth. Yet
within our culture a woman has traditionally been seen in a function of
motherhood. If a culture alludes, on the whole, that the role of women
*should be,* or, at least, *should include,* that of a nurturing mother,
isn't it inevitable that women will produce droves of children?? A tad
bit of biological determinism... because a woman _can_ have children, many
seem to think that she _should_ have children. Tho' listening to women
these days, it is not uncommon to hear more and more open admissions of
the difficulty of choosing *not* to have children because of the strong
societal expectations that they do. That if they don't there must be
something "wrong with them" or are "selfish and egotistical." Hmm..

There are also those who would define motherhood as precluding
other activities. As one well-known proponent proclaimed not long
ago..."`When we eliminate women from public life, it is not because we
want to dispense with them, but because we want to give them back their
essential honor ... The outstanding and highest calling of women is always
that of wife and mother." I have the feeling Boadicea was not his ideal
of the perfect wife and mother. But, then again, so "civic-minded," she
certainly had less time and incentive to make more babies...
evolutionarily signficant perhaps...

BTW, I'll be back in the States for a couple of months. If there
are any of you out there in the greater Boston/Providence area who get
together to chat now and again, please drop me a line. Anyone working
with mental models and/or small business and/or community building is of
particular interest...

--
	Jackie Mullen
	J.Mullen@agora.stm.it